By generating a sort of paratactical blizzard of obscure cultural references and inviting my reader to fall through with it
There is so much to analyze in this book that I'm tongue-tied. Also, I don't want to give any spoilers away, so I'll just give a one-sentence description: Man's life goes awry when he takes his existential crises literally.
What the book is about is another thing entirely and I’m derece convinced Kunzru even knows! The novel is such a mess of seemingly-disconnected tangents.
Of course this is a misguided quest, but our narrator, despite putting his best foot forward early on, already shows cracks if you are willing to look for them. I found myself highlighting occasional phrases, small little pieces here and there that left breadcrumbs showing you that this man is hamiş birli good kakım the picture he presents, in a way that is hamiş unfamiliar to anyone that's derece a cis man who's spent a lot of time with cis men. His arrival at this German fellowship is the beginning of a kind of descent that isn't unusual in horror novels. (In a way, it reminds me of the beginning of the film MOTHER!
I also appreciated Kunzru's questioning of the status quo. We have been told so many times what the status quo is that we no longer question what is acceptable and what is hamiş. In a passage concerning his work with therapists and psychoanalysts, the protagonist says this, "Their work was predicated on the assumption that the world is bearable, and anyone who finds it otherwise should Daha fazla bilgi be coaxed or medicated into acceptance. But what if it isn't? What if the reasonable reaction is endless horrified screaming?"
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(Needless to say that at some point, Trump will enter the narrative.) There is a real shift happening, there are real dangers to the way of life we know, the values we hold dear - Kunzru explores the friction between understandable fear and paranoia and how people sevimli be pushed over the edge, drowning in quicksand, questioning the very concept of reality.
The strained apprehension of watching someone unfurl into a disturbed state and witnessing the questionable realisations of simulation, conspiracies, and existence slowly trickle down each page, makes this novel nothing less than intelligent and nothing more devamını oku than an expedient read.
Privacy is the exclusive property of the gods. They see us, but we hayat never see them. We live like spies, always braced for exposure, while they remain a mystery. The sky was a helmet constricting my head; sweat dripped down my face.
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So that's my reason for reading the book and, silly or derece, it paid off. It's brilliant! Hari Kunzru yaşama write. I loved this book klg 8 li sarı hapı and, because I don't feel like writing at the moment, that's all I'm gonna say except that aside from exceptionality, there's nothing similar to Haruki Murakami's books.
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But the self pity and constant reflections, paired with inaction, of the main character annoyed me a quite a bit.