Smithy's obtuseness might reflect his stunted confidence more so than real stupidity. Time will tell, though, as he's clearly on an arc, at this point in the novel being halfway across the country on a bicycle trip.
This journey will no doubt lead him back to the skinny body he inhabited in his youth. Smithy's overweight adult body seems foreign to him. He negotiates his fat legs like they were a prosthesis and recoils at his gut as if he's found himself dressed in some sad Christmas sweater. Emotionally, he's no better off. He demonstrates zero self-awareness, often repeating things that other people say to him as if he is unsure he understood them and can't access his response.
This can be grating, in a way; Smithy's attempts to talk to Norma, a crippled neighbor woman who has lived trapped in her own house since about age ten, are nearly insufferable strings of non sequiturs, aborted statements, and long-suppressed confessions. I think these dialogs chronicling their budding love are meant to be touching. Somehow.
The book reads pretty easy but isn't all that enjoyable. Smithy operates off some deeply ingrained values and assumptions, and I wish he'd pause to consider this consciously. Anyway, holding out hope for a good twist.
