I don't know how 'normal' people would view the book, the book cover mentions things about it being well written , funny even. I daresay, for a normal person, many things would read differently.
Me, I wept through a lot of it. There were phrases and lines, that seemed to leap right off the page, like I'd been thinking them all my life, and just had never known how to string them together in a sentence. While growing up in a world of voices, intrigue, paranoia, I remember how the the definitions of 'normal' had taken on layers of meaning. How ambivalence was learnt early on. How loaded the intricacies of the parent-child relationship had been become. Loaded more than seemed fair.
Perhaps I'll read it again, and do a more neutral and objective review another time. For now, I can only say how much I identified with the son, with the home, sometimes even with the mad-dow. And how much I loved the writing.