celinegaghadar's review against another edition
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.0
Boring, no plot
daniellekat's review against another edition
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
1.75
This was EXTREMELY slow paced and detailed. There were a few interesting points and commentary but overall this was just plain boring.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Rape, Xenophobia, and Racism
Minor: Violence and Death of parent
x150151041's review against another edition
5.0
"Each person must, on some level, take himself as the calibration point for normalcy, must assume that the room of his own mind is not, cannot be, entirely opaque to him. Perhaps this is what we mean by sanity: that, whatever our self-admitted eccentricities might be, we are not the villains of our own stories. In fact, it is quite the contrary: we play, and only play, the hero, and in the swirl of other people's stories, insofar as those stories concern us at all, we are never less than heroic. Who, in the age of television, hasn't stood in front of a mirror and imagined his life as a show that is already perhaps being watched by multitudes? Who has not, with this consideration in mind, brought something performative into his everyday life? We have the ability to do both good and evil, and more often than not, we choose the good. When we don't, neither we nor our imagined audience is troubled, because we are able to articulate ourselves to ourselves, and because we have, through our other decisions, merited their sympathy. They are ready to believe the best about us, and not without good reason. From my point of view, thinking about the story of my life, even without claiming any especially heightened sense of ethics, I am satisfied that I have hewed close to the good.
And so, what does it mean when, in someone else's version, I am the villain? I am only too familiar with bad stories--badly imagined, or badly told--because I hear them frequently from patients. I know the tells of those who blame others, those who are unable to see that they themselves, and not the others, are the common thread in all their bad relationships. There are characteristic tics that reveal the essential falsehood of such narratives. But what Moji had said to me that morning...
The just risen sun came at the Hudson at such an acute angle that the river gleamed like aluminum roofing. At that moment--and I remember this as exactly as though it were being replayed in front of me right now--I thought of how, in his journals, Camus tells a double story concerning Nietzsche and Gaius Mucius Cordus Scaevola, a Roman hero from the sixth century B.C.E. Scaevola had been captured while trying to kill the Etruscan king Porsenna and, rather than give away his accomplices, he showed his fearlessness by putting his right hand in a fire and letting it burn. From this act came his nickname, Scaevola, the left-handed. Nietzsche, according to Camus, became angry when his schoolmates would not believe the Scaevola story. And so, the fifteen-year-old Nietzsche plucked a hot coal from the grate, and held it. Of course ,it burned him. He carried the resulting scar with him for the rest of his life."
And so, what does it mean when, in someone else's version, I am the villain? I am only too familiar with bad stories--badly imagined, or badly told--because I hear them frequently from patients. I know the tells of those who blame others, those who are unable to see that they themselves, and not the others, are the common thread in all their bad relationships. There are characteristic tics that reveal the essential falsehood of such narratives. But what Moji had said to me that morning...
The just risen sun came at the Hudson at such an acute angle that the river gleamed like aluminum roofing. At that moment--and I remember this as exactly as though it were being replayed in front of me right now--I thought of how, in his journals, Camus tells a double story concerning Nietzsche and Gaius Mucius Cordus Scaevola, a Roman hero from the sixth century B.C.E. Scaevola had been captured while trying to kill the Etruscan king Porsenna and, rather than give away his accomplices, he showed his fearlessness by putting his right hand in a fire and letting it burn. From this act came his nickname, Scaevola, the left-handed. Nietzsche, according to Camus, became angry when his schoolmates would not believe the Scaevola story. And so, the fifteen-year-old Nietzsche plucked a hot coal from the grate, and held it. Of course ,it burned him. He carried the resulting scar with him for the rest of his life."
jackwwang's review against another edition
5.0
Open City reads like the personal journal that I could only hope to write. It eschews plot progression and any semblance of a story arc and in its stead portrays the internal dialogue in our protagonists head as a nexus of histories and ideas both personal and deeply historical.
These are the fictional diary entries of a very thoughtful, informed, and open-minded individual about nothing in particular. Julius is the Flaneur incarnate taking the spirit from 19th century Paris to 21st century New York. Through him we see the city as a Nigerian immigrant, a New Yorker by any meaningful measure, a partisan for the arts, a psychiatrist, and above all a rich thinker who ties threads between fatalism and the richness of death expressed by Mahler's symphonies.
The passage that stood out most in my mind was the protagonist's interactions with Farouq, an amateur orientalist scholar and who also runs the internet cafe that Julius visits in Brussels. He is an exquisitely eloquent advocate for Muslim indignation, but more interesting is Julius' subtle and ever shifting read on Farouq.
At the end it's hard to pin down what ties this book together, or what it's really all about, but if you enjoy wandering New York City, people-watching, and letting your mind wander, I suspect you'll enjoy this book immensely.
These are the fictional diary entries of a very thoughtful, informed, and open-minded individual about nothing in particular. Julius is the Flaneur incarnate taking the spirit from 19th century Paris to 21st century New York. Through him we see the city as a Nigerian immigrant, a New Yorker by any meaningful measure, a partisan for the arts, a psychiatrist, and above all a rich thinker who ties threads between fatalism and the richness of death expressed by Mahler's symphonies.
The passage that stood out most in my mind was the protagonist's interactions with Farouq, an amateur orientalist scholar and who also runs the internet cafe that Julius visits in Brussels. He is an exquisitely eloquent advocate for Muslim indignation, but more interesting is Julius' subtle and ever shifting read on Farouq.
At the end it's hard to pin down what ties this book together, or what it's really all about, but if you enjoy wandering New York City, people-watching, and letting your mind wander, I suspect you'll enjoy this book immensely.
_pickle_'s review against another edition
3.0
Proficiently told—normally I dislike these musing books with no identifiable plot, but there's something meditative and compelling about Cole's writing.
The book feels cold—divorced of human passion. The narrator views the world almost as if through glass an after awhile this view washes off on you, until you feel trapped equally in his detachment and introspection.
The book feels cold—divorced of human passion. The narrator views the world almost as if through glass an after awhile this view washes off on you, until you feel trapped equally in his detachment and introspection.
w_t_effi's review against another edition
informative
reflective
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
4.25
emyrogers's review against another edition
1.0
Cole’s protagonist comes across as exceedingly self-centred, presumptuous, and callous. The book is packed with a wealth of knowledge across a broad range of topics, but instead of garnering interest, it comes across as conceited, as a need to prove this character is “the best” (which he clearly is not, proven by the awful revelation at the end of the novel). I was disappointed by the characterization of women throughout, who are objectified and sexualized, often without any precursor. To be completely honest, the book left me disappointed, and I felt like I hadn’t gained anything from the rambling narrative, which at many times felt pointless.
lakerss12's review against another edition
4.0
Story about Julius, a Nigerian-American psychiatrist who simply wanders around New York and Brussels. This was an intriguing book since much of it was just Julius in stream of conscious writing about what he saw, and describing its history in minor vignettes. There was an odd twist at the end where it was introduced that Julius raped a girl in his youth, but it didn’t do much and I am confused why it was even included. Overall, I enjoyed the reflective nature of the book because it really captures a few months in a life. It reminds me a lot of myself with the solitary journeys around a city just walking and marketing where I am at. It also inspires me to hopefully get out and about more.
quietdomino's review against another edition
4.0
Powerful, meditative, basically plotless. Notable for its consideration of immigration and diversity in contemporary NYC from the point of view of a 1/2 Nigerian, 1/2 German psychiatrist.
melissageerars's review against another edition
4.0
Het is even wennen, een roman waarin het plot ondergeschikt is. Toegegeven, het zorgde er ook voor dat ik soms kleine delen redelijk diagonaal gelezen heb. In deze roman verplaatst Julius, een psychiater van Nigeriaanse afkomst, zich door New York en de wereld en hij observeert. Mensen, gebouwen, de geschiedenis. De gesprekken en gedachtegangen die hieruit volgen vormen het verhaal. Ik vond het heel leerzaam om te lezen hoe een immigrant, ook al is Julius er maar één, omgaat met vreemden en hoe zij omgaan met hem. Door hem niet heel consistent te laten zijn (soms is hij vriendelijk, soms heeft hij daar geen zin in), voelt de hoofdpersoon realistisch aan. Interessant ook vond ik dat ik merkte dat ik zijn gesprekken in Brussel een stuk opener en diepgaander vond dan die in New York, terwijl Julius in Brussel slechts met vreemden sprak. Is dat een goed weergegeven realiteit? Of een cliché?