plantbirdwoman's review against another edition
5.0
I know people who say they can't abide reading books that don't have characters that they can empathize or identify with. It's easy to understand that instinctual need to feel good about the characters that populate the book one has committed to reading. But I would argue that sometimes there is much to be learned from reading about unsympathetic characters; characters who, not to put too fine a point on it, are complete and total jerks. Barry Cohen is such a character.
Barry is everyone's stereotype of the narcissistic Wall Street hedge fund manager, who lives in his own self-deluded fantasy world and persuades others to trust him with their money and then loses it while amassing his own personal fortune. Investigated by the SEC, he skates free by paying a large fine but never spends any time in jail and never gets banned from further trading and so he continues to do the same thing over and over again. Sound like a story you might have heard in the news?
There is, of course, more to Barry. He has a wife named Seema, who is a first-generation American of Tamil Indian parents. She is an extremely smart non-practicing lawyer who gave up her career to stay home with their autistic son. Yes, the tragedy of the otherwise dream life that Barry and Seema live is that their three-year-old son, Shiva, is profoundly autistic - or "on the spectrum" in current terminology. He cannot speak and is unresponsive to his parents. He has a full-time nanny, a Philippine immigrant, who actually cares for him, and he has an entire team of therapists who work with him weekly to try to bring him into a functioning relationship with the world around him. This is all very expensive. Lucky that his parents are billionaires.
When the walls begin to close in on Barry - his hedge fund fails; the SEC investigators are getting closer; he can't deal with the fact of his son's autism; his marriage is failing - he flees. He takes a Greyhound bus to go and "look for America," as Paul Simon once wrote. (He can leave because he knows that Seema will stay, that she will not abandon their son as he is doing.)
In fact, Barry is looking for the simpler life that he once lived as a college student with his first love. He goes in search of that woman, hoping to reclaim the magic of that time in his life.
His college love was from Richmond but now lives in El Paso. He heads south. Through Baltimore, then Richmond to stop at his girlfriend's old home and visit her parents, south to Atlanta, then west through Birmingham, Jackson, Dallas, and finally on to El Paso. At each stop along the way, Shteyngart gives us quick portraits of communities and people all of which reveal another layer of Barry's self-absorbed and egotistical personality. Essentially, it is self-obsession all the way down.
Meanwhile, back in New York, Seema is facing her own demons, beginning an affair with a neighbor, and finally taking her own trip west, to the Midwest in her case, to visit her parents and perhaps reclaim her own personhood.
These are, in short, two imperfect characters flailing around in a world of self-deluded chaos of their own making, and the background of the whole thing is the presidential campaign of 2016 which just lends further impetus to the descent into entropy.
I thought the novel was brilliant. I didn't like Barry one little bit, although in the end I did have the faintest bit of sympathy for him and a bit more for Seema. I think if we are honest we can concede that there may just be the tiniest particle of Barry/Seema lurking in all of us.
Barry is everyone's stereotype of the narcissistic Wall Street hedge fund manager, who lives in his own self-deluded fantasy world and persuades others to trust him with their money and then loses it while amassing his own personal fortune. Investigated by the SEC, he skates free by paying a large fine but never spends any time in jail and never gets banned from further trading and so he continues to do the same thing over and over again. Sound like a story you might have heard in the news?
There is, of course, more to Barry. He has a wife named Seema, who is a first-generation American of Tamil Indian parents. She is an extremely smart non-practicing lawyer who gave up her career to stay home with their autistic son. Yes, the tragedy of the otherwise dream life that Barry and Seema live is that their three-year-old son, Shiva, is profoundly autistic - or "on the spectrum" in current terminology. He cannot speak and is unresponsive to his parents. He has a full-time nanny, a Philippine immigrant, who actually cares for him, and he has an entire team of therapists who work with him weekly to try to bring him into a functioning relationship with the world around him. This is all very expensive. Lucky that his parents are billionaires.
When the walls begin to close in on Barry - his hedge fund fails; the SEC investigators are getting closer; he can't deal with the fact of his son's autism; his marriage is failing - he flees. He takes a Greyhound bus to go and "look for America," as Paul Simon once wrote. (He can leave because he knows that Seema will stay, that she will not abandon their son as he is doing.)
"Like your first ankle monitor bracelet or your fourth divorce, the occasional break with reality was an important part of any hedge-fund titan's biography."
In fact, Barry is looking for the simpler life that he once lived as a college student with his first love. He goes in search of that woman, hoping to reclaim the magic of that time in his life.
His college love was from Richmond but now lives in El Paso. He heads south. Through Baltimore, then Richmond to stop at his girlfriend's old home and visit her parents, south to Atlanta, then west through Birmingham, Jackson, Dallas, and finally on to El Paso. At each stop along the way, Shteyngart gives us quick portraits of communities and people all of which reveal another layer of Barry's self-absorbed and egotistical personality. Essentially, it is self-obsession all the way down.
Meanwhile, back in New York, Seema is facing her own demons, beginning an affair with a neighbor, and finally taking her own trip west, to the Midwest in her case, to visit her parents and perhaps reclaim her own personhood.
These are, in short, two imperfect characters flailing around in a world of self-deluded chaos of their own making, and the background of the whole thing is the presidential campaign of 2016 which just lends further impetus to the descent into entropy.
I thought the novel was brilliant. I didn't like Barry one little bit, although in the end I did have the faintest bit of sympathy for him and a bit more for Seema. I think if we are honest we can concede that there may just be the tiniest particle of Barry/Seema lurking in all of us.
patricijatilv's review against another edition
3.0
3.5 (toks labiau geranoriškas, nei stiprus)/5
Sūnus autistas, kuris nekalba ir turbūt niekada nebeprabils. Žmona, kurios niekada nemylėjai. Universitetas, kuriame išmokai visiems patikti ir mėgti Hemingvėjų ir Fitzgeraldą. Amerika, kurios apatiją keičianti isterija pykdo taip pat labai, kaip ir sūnus, darantis tą patį, ką ir šalis, kurią vienu metu ir idealizuoji, ir niekini. Ar niekini todėl, kad visai neprisidedi prie to, jog Amerika būtų didi? O gal dėl to, kad ji tobulai atspindi tavo paties vidinę tuštumą, tokią neišsemiamą, kad nepripildytų joks sėkmės ežeras? Ar iš tiesų nori Ameriką pažinti? Ar iš tiesų nori pažinti savo sūnų, kai bijai, kad jame nėra nieko, su kuo būtų verta pažindintis? O tavyje ar yra?
Istorija, pakaitomis pasakojama vienodai nesimpatiškų veikėjų, nuo pat pirmojo puslapio nėra nei maloni, nei lengva, nors iš pirmo žvilgsnio ir atrodo absurdiškai paprasta ir milijonus kartų girdėta. Tekstas, nepaprastai sodrus ir perpildytas nuorodų į Amerikos kultūrą, kartais balansuoja ant surrealizmo ribos, vienu metu ir pykdo, ir masina – labiausiai baisiai stipriu absurdo pojūčiu. Bet ar ne tokia ir yra Amerika, kai žiūri į ją iš šono? Vis dėlto, kiek pikta tai, kad labiausiai įtraukia ne pagrindinio veikėjo, o jo žmonos naratyvas: kiek gali jaustis amerikiete, kai visų esi laikoma imigrante? Kiek gali būti gera motina sūnui, kuriam nelabai svarbu ar su juo mama, ar viena iš dešimties jo terapeučių? Ar jas samdai tik tam, kad nesijaustum tokia kalta? Ar jos vaikui lemta ją taip pat netinkamai interpretuoti, kaip interpretuoja visi kiti? Ar jos meilei, visai kaip jos tėvams, net jei atsikračiusiems 83% savo akcento, visada reikės subtitrų? Ar atsiras kalba, į kurią savo sūnui tuos subtitrus galėtum išversti, kad jis tave suprastų? Ar jis klausosi? Jei klausosi, ar girdi? O kiti?
Knyga vietomis primena slogų sapną, vietomis įtraukia, o tuoj pagauni galvodamas apie šitos kelionės prasmę – ar tokia iš viso yra? Vietomis atrodo nereikalingai snobiška, melancholiška, lėta, klampi, o vietomis per daug akivaizdi, tarsi jau girdėta, pritempta, stereotipiška ne tik iš idėjos. Bet tikriausiai tuo amerikietiškoji svajonė ir yra ypatinga: kad ir kokia nuvalkiota, vis dar masina taip pat stipriai, kaip bet kada anksčiau. Vis dėlto, jei pirmajai knygos pusei galėčiau skirti aukščiausią įvertinimą, antroji kėlė daug nuobodulio ir pasimetimo: ar turiu ieškoti logikos, ar viskas tik metafora? Kiek knygos erzinimo „iš idėjos“ gali pakelti? Ir kiek satyros apie šiandieninę Ameriką man norisi į save sugerti? Įdomus skaitinys, ypač prezidentinių pasikeitimų fone, bet, deja, apart kelių LABAI gerų minčių ir kokybiškos literatūros paliekamo pojūčio, nieko labai sensacingo.
Sūnus autistas, kuris nekalba ir turbūt niekada nebeprabils. Žmona, kurios niekada nemylėjai. Universitetas, kuriame išmokai visiems patikti ir mėgti Hemingvėjų ir Fitzgeraldą. Amerika, kurios apatiją keičianti isterija pykdo taip pat labai, kaip ir sūnus, darantis tą patį, ką ir šalis, kurią vienu metu ir idealizuoji, ir niekini. Ar niekini todėl, kad visai neprisidedi prie to, jog Amerika būtų didi? O gal dėl to, kad ji tobulai atspindi tavo paties vidinę tuštumą, tokią neišsemiamą, kad nepripildytų joks sėkmės ežeras? Ar iš tiesų nori Ameriką pažinti? Ar iš tiesų nori pažinti savo sūnų, kai bijai, kad jame nėra nieko, su kuo būtų verta pažindintis? O tavyje ar yra?
Istorija, pakaitomis pasakojama vienodai nesimpatiškų veikėjų, nuo pat pirmojo puslapio nėra nei maloni, nei lengva, nors iš pirmo žvilgsnio ir atrodo absurdiškai paprasta ir milijonus kartų girdėta. Tekstas, nepaprastai sodrus ir perpildytas nuorodų į Amerikos kultūrą, kartais balansuoja ant surrealizmo ribos, vienu metu ir pykdo, ir masina – labiausiai baisiai stipriu absurdo pojūčiu. Bet ar ne tokia ir yra Amerika, kai žiūri į ją iš šono? Vis dėlto, kiek pikta tai, kad labiausiai įtraukia ne pagrindinio veikėjo, o jo žmonos naratyvas: kiek gali jaustis amerikiete, kai visų esi laikoma imigrante? Kiek gali būti gera motina sūnui, kuriam nelabai svarbu ar su juo mama, ar viena iš dešimties jo terapeučių? Ar jas samdai tik tam, kad nesijaustum tokia kalta? Ar jos vaikui lemta ją taip pat netinkamai interpretuoti, kaip interpretuoja visi kiti? Ar jos meilei, visai kaip jos tėvams, net jei atsikračiusiems 83% savo akcento, visada reikės subtitrų? Ar atsiras kalba, į kurią savo sūnui tuos subtitrus galėtum išversti, kad jis tave suprastų? Ar jis klausosi? Jei klausosi, ar girdi? O kiti?
Knyga vietomis primena slogų sapną, vietomis įtraukia, o tuoj pagauni galvodamas apie šitos kelionės prasmę – ar tokia iš viso yra? Vietomis atrodo nereikalingai snobiška, melancholiška, lėta, klampi, o vietomis per daug akivaizdi, tarsi jau girdėta, pritempta, stereotipiška ne tik iš idėjos. Bet tikriausiai tuo amerikietiškoji svajonė ir yra ypatinga: kad ir kokia nuvalkiota, vis dar masina taip pat stipriai, kaip bet kada anksčiau. Vis dėlto, jei pirmajai knygos pusei galėčiau skirti aukščiausią įvertinimą, antroji kėlė daug nuobodulio ir pasimetimo: ar turiu ieškoti logikos, ar viskas tik metafora? Kiek knygos erzinimo „iš idėjos“ gali pakelti? Ir kiek satyros apie šiandieninę Ameriką man norisi į save sugerti? Įdomus skaitinys, ypač prezidentinių pasikeitimų fone, bet, deja, apart kelių LABAI gerų minčių ir kokybiškos literatūros paliekamo pojūčio, nieko labai sensacingo.
jcutreads's review
3.0
Supposedly Barry's journey though "real" America was a satirical commentary on society, but I just couldn't get into his story. Or Sema's. Their selfish, callous behavior was more irritating than ironic. Some parts were enjoyable, but not enough to make me devour the book.
djrmelvin's review
3.0
2 person narration, female voice was perfect, male voice tipped the hand on how character should be “seen”. Very much a story of contemporary times, the plot arc is sow to build, then peaks rapidly and then levels off. Very strong sense of place and side character descriptions.
stephbeaudoin20's review
3.0
I received this book in a Goodreads Giveaway. It was good, the characters were wonderfully flawed, but it just didn't sing to me.
duffymn's review
4.0
I’m familiar with Shteyngart’s tongue and cheek writing, and boy, this is a doozy. Barry is the most unlikeable character, and is overly myopic. I quit at first, then read a Washington Post review, and continued. It’s on purpose, folks. We are meant to see his billion flaws, and that helps as a reader. Once I got past the fact that it’s funny, I enjoyed the plot. Keep going. Shteyngart is a master craftsman.
ursulamonarch's review
4.0
This was a total delight to read, made especially interesting by the lurking sinister political throughline which captured the feel of 2015 and most of 2016. I had a hard time putting it down, and there were so many funny parts that it was hard not to just gobble it up. I was especially glad to have Seema's perspective, which I thought was nuanced. Overall, I got a better feel for her than for Barry who, despite being the center of so much of the action, actually seemed persistently hollow to me. His motivations seemed clear throughout, but also never very believable to me. I was much more interested in all the other characters, although I thought it was unfortunate they were generally only part of the story while Barry dropped in. I would love to read a(nother) collection of short stories or even books about pretty much every secondary character.