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3.75 AVERAGE
3.75 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
emotional
hopeful
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
An okay ode to the City of New York that would’ve been better without the fragmented style carried throughout all 150+ pages.
I first fell in love with Whitehead's "The Match" in the New Yorker's April 1, 2019 issue. I read it on the twenty-eighth floor of Bloomberg Tower over an extended lunch, glancing up periodically to consider Central Park and the Upper East Side. It was so *good*. So when Tian Carlos and I read its container novel, *The Nickel Boys,* I was enthusiastic. Only it was... eh. That chapter, about the match, was excellent, and a few pieces here and there were true gems as well. But all in all the novel read fine, as if Whitehead were holding back his artistic muscles to make the novel palatable to a wider audience.
So let's try his poetry.
*What* mastery of the language, what powerful use of tropes. I hand-wrote my favorite one-liners into my notebook until two full pages were cramped with my tiny penmanship. One beautiful line I saved digitally was: "Children yo-yo at the tideline, run in when it seems safe and out when a wave approaches. Depressing mechanical regularity. Mimicking parents and ruthless commute." The book read much like Hadif Abdurraqib's "On The Times I Have Forced Myself To Dance" chapters in *A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance* with their breathless pace and scattered imagery that unites to create not a summary but an essence of the subject.
My favorite sections came early on, especially the Subway chapter, with its meme-able references mixed with poignant observations. The book continued in this style, re-skinning each chapter with a new piece of geography and leaving the basic formula untouched. Unfortunately, this got old fast. What was initially revelatory and beautiful became stale and hackneyed by the halfway point. Carlos summed it up well when he called this a "gift book" that you'll read a chapter of here and a chapter of there.
So let's try his poetry.
*What* mastery of the language, what powerful use of tropes. I hand-wrote my favorite one-liners into my notebook until two full pages were cramped with my tiny penmanship. One beautiful line I saved digitally was: "Children yo-yo at the tideline, run in when it seems safe and out when a wave approaches. Depressing mechanical regularity. Mimicking parents and ruthless commute." The book read much like Hadif Abdurraqib's "On The Times I Have Forced Myself To Dance" chapters in *A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance* with their breathless pace and scattered imagery that unites to create not a summary but an essence of the subject.
My favorite sections came early on, especially the Subway chapter, with its meme-able references mixed with poignant observations. The book continued in this style, re-skinning each chapter with a new piece of geography and leaving the basic formula untouched. Unfortunately, this got old fast. What was initially revelatory and beautiful became stale and hackneyed by the halfway point. Carlos summed it up well when he called this a "gift book" that you'll read a chapter of here and a chapter of there.
3.5 stars
I swing between three and four stars. At once insightful, hilarious, universal, and impersonal. This is a mediation of modern life which, as much as his various insights are both unique to New York, these are recognisable as situations of anyone who has lived in a big city. I recognise the insights from when I've lived and worked in London, such is the brilliance of his observation.
The reason I swing between is that there is very little of Whitehead himself. I wish he himself would explore this city that he loves. He took so much time and energy to explore the city he was noticeably missing. The first part, "City Limits", offers that insight and it's great. Still has that universality, but has that personal flavour to it as well.
The prose poetry/creative non-fiction has some flourishes at points but does weary in time. Fortunately it's a short read so it's not too much in the way. By no means, an awful read: I'm excited to check out his novels.
I swing between three and four stars. At once insightful, hilarious, universal, and impersonal. This is a mediation of modern life which, as much as his various insights are both unique to New York, these are recognisable as situations of anyone who has lived in a big city. I recognise the insights from when I've lived and worked in London, such is the brilliance of his observation.
The reason I swing between is that there is very little of Whitehead himself. I wish he himself would explore this city that he loves. He took so much time and energy to explore the city he was noticeably missing. The first part, "City Limits", offers that insight and it's great. Still has that universality, but has that personal flavour to it as well.
The prose poetry/creative non-fiction has some flourishes at points but does weary in time. Fortunately it's a short read so it's not too much in the way. By no means, an awful read: I'm excited to check out his novels.
inspiring
fast-paced
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced