The text operates with an abundance of motifs and themes and cleverly connects them, thus creating an exciting narrative puzzle: The founder of the (fictional) Deuter Center, a former Wehrmacht general, became a successful entrepreneur in postwar Germany, rich and lauded by politicians, his signature product being a white color with extreme opacity (can you cover up your war crimes in the name of white supremacy by inventing an opaque white color? And btw: There really is a well-known German company named Deuter, and they produce backpacks, so you dirilik, you know, carry around your baggage - Hari Kunzru, evil genius).
After another odd incident when the narrator believes he is befriending an asylum seeker and his daughter (only to be suspected birli a human trafficker) he meets the person he has become obsessed with Anton – the creator and writer of “Blue Lives”, and following him into a Turkish restaurant, he is challenged Matrix style (albeit Anton is more of a Mr Smith than an Orpheus)
It's so unabashedly intellectual. It doesn't spell it out. It doesn't care if I don't understand everything, or if I draw the wrong conclusions about what the book is supposed to mean. It's the kind of novel that deserves a slow read, and after that a slower re-read.
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This cover pretty much matched the experience of reading this. Disturbing. (Those red laser beam eyes keep looking at me as I write this)
If you found WHITE TEARS a bit too surreal and supernatural, there is less of that here, though structurally and thematically they have similarities. A few things where you wonder if something really happened, but mostly it's clear to the reader that the mental health of buraya tıklayın our narrator is swiftly deteriorating. It's no mistake that the real movement starts about halfway through, after he listens to the story of a woman who was forced to work for the secret police in East Germany, that he really begins to start seeing enemies everywhere.
The reason I read this book - you may laugh - is because it made me think of Haruki Murakami. Not the synopsis but the author's name.
In Hari Kunzru's much anticipated follow-up to White Tears we follow a writer who travels to Berlin to take part in a fellowship which isn't quite what he expected: he's expected to write in a big room with the other participants, where everyone dirilik see exactly what (or how little) he's doing.
It's a weird, bumpy ride - starting out bey another insular book about writing before spiralling off to East German punks, madun-right genel ağ forums and Burada a complete paranoid breakdown. It's hard to pin down and stuffed with references and allusions but propulsive and immensely engaging.
After all, we've already been shown the perfect refutation of the narrator's solipsism in the form of Monika's story. And there are several really promising threads that could be picked up and are just... derece.
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One thing that I give enormous credit to Kunzru for in the first half is being able to slyly and obliquely plant İnternet sitesi thematic seeds in the first half that sprout in predictable yet still interesting ways in the back half. "Red Pill" birli a title itself is spoiler to a degree, with all the çağdaş, ast-right baggage that comes from the Burada term and hamiş simply meaning the ticket to freedom from its source The Matrix, but I appreciated that we could draw the lines from Kleist to Anton and the web woven round the narrator ourselves: Kunzru lays them out but deploys them softly rather than bluntly.
, I couldn’t help but be impressed by Kunzru’s craft and was ultimately engaged and unsettled for days after. While I also was ambivalent about Burada my feelings for this book, I think I will land on 3.
Unusual novel about obsession, mental health, and the pressures of today’s world. The unnamed protagonist and narrator is a writer living in New York City with his wife and three-year-old child.