It takes a lot for me to abandon a book once I've started reading it, and that struggle becomes more and more serious the further I progress through said book. So, perhaps this is why I was able to drop Roberto Bolaño’s The Savage Detective after reading just over 1/3 of the book (though, 1/3 is often too far for me to abandon a book; I suppose this speaks to what a true waste of time I felt The Savage Detectives to be). First, to address any of the friends who suggested I read this book: my faith in your taste is not diminished in the least. I believe my grip is mostly a matter of personal disinterest in the subject matter. I mean, no matter how good a book about baseball is written, I wouldn't be excited to read it. The Savage Detectives is about teenagers without responsibility who worship poetry, yet refuse…