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chaotic_abi's review against another edition
1.0
Honestly, this book was not great. A lot of it was plain boring and I kind of hated the characters. I didn't enjoy being dropped straight into the story of the present of the past. I don't think the main character has a name??? The dialogue that was summed up in large paragraphs bored me. I would have much rather read the actual dialogue.
jennicakes's review against another edition
3.0
The first thing this book made me think of was this list: http://www.buzzfeed.com/doree/books-you-need-to-read-in-your-20s, which includes some genuinely great stuff, but also a shit ton of bougie whining.
Two things about the book are pleasantly unique: 1.) The main character is from Egypt, and the book is largely populated by non-white characters. But, again, his problems are largely... well, he's at HARVARD. He has Harvard problems. Poor baby. 2.) It details the course of a difficult friendship in a realistic and insightful way.
The prose is beautiful. The setting was a bonus for me, but won't get you excited about Cambridge unless you're predisposed to get excited about urban Massachusetts in specific, and academic stories in general.
On its own merits, pretty good, but compared to similar books, probably skippable.
Two things about the book are pleasantly unique: 1.) The main character is from Egypt, and the book is largely populated by non-white characters. But, again, his problems are largely... well, he's at HARVARD. He has Harvard problems. Poor baby. 2.) It details the course of a difficult friendship in a realistic and insightful way.
The prose is beautiful. The setting was a bonus for me, but won't get you excited about Cambridge unless you're predisposed to get excited about urban Massachusetts in specific, and academic stories in general.
On its own merits, pretty good, but compared to similar books, probably skippable.
rebeccagatzlaff's review against another edition
2.0
I didn't really like this book. It reminded me of The catcher and the rye. It portraued women in a negative view.
lmrajt's review against another edition
2.0
This is really 2.5 stars. I loved that it was written by a man, about male friendship, but not much happened (except the main character trying to sleep with basically everyone). I understand the book was about the tremendous influence people can have in your life despite staying only briefly, but the ending was super anti-climactic and left me feeling unsettled.
reneelyons's review against another edition
4.0
Perhaps he was a stand-in for who I was, a primitive version of the me I'd lost track of and sloughed off in America. My shadow self, my picture of Dorian Gray, my mad brother in the attic, my Mr Hyde, my very, very rough draft. Me unmasked, unchained, unleashed, unfinished: me untrammeled, me in rags, me enraged. Me without books, without finish, without a green card.
André Aciman's flare for writing internal dialogue is alive and well in Harvard Square, as is his focus on meaningful relationships. While romantic relationships are explored in this work, Aciman's focus here is on the power of male friendship. Told through the lens of the immigrant experience, Aciman explores an unlikely, and occasionally unwelcome, friendship.
In recounting his days as a student at Harvard, our unnamed narrator reflects on his old friend Kalaj (short for Kalashnikov). He meets Kalaj by chance one day at Café Algiers, a local eatery and hangout. Kalaj is everything he is not - loud, opinionated, and unabashedly forward with women. The two bond and develop a sort of love-hate friendship, though they connect deeply on their experiences as immigrants in America. Our narrator is Jewish, from Alexandria, Egypt, while Kalaj is from the Tunisia; they struggle with both money and assimilation, they long for France and the feeling of home.
I adored the ending of this book; it's subtle, but remind us of the imprint that people have in our lives, even ones that are long forgotten. While our narrator is often frustrated with Kalaj's big personality, the two shared a unique friendship that leaves a lasting impact. As this is my third Aciman read, I feel like I have a good grasp of his writing. Aciman is well read and highly intelligent, there is no doubt about that. There are moments in this book that drag a little, alienating readers who may not be as well versed in certain topics as he is. Overall, this was another great Aciman book, and I'm looking forward to continuing with his backlist.
André Aciman's flare for writing internal dialogue is alive and well in Harvard Square, as is his focus on meaningful relationships. While romantic relationships are explored in this work, Aciman's focus here is on the power of male friendship. Told through the lens of the immigrant experience, Aciman explores an unlikely, and occasionally unwelcome, friendship.
In recounting his days as a student at Harvard, our unnamed narrator reflects on his old friend Kalaj (short for Kalashnikov). He meets Kalaj by chance one day at Café Algiers, a local eatery and hangout. Kalaj is everything he is not - loud, opinionated, and unabashedly forward with women. The two bond and develop a sort of love-hate friendship, though they connect deeply on their experiences as immigrants in America. Our narrator is Jewish, from Alexandria, Egypt, while Kalaj is from the Tunisia; they struggle with both money and assimilation, they long for France and the feeling of home.
I adored the ending of this book; it's subtle, but remind us of the imprint that people have in our lives, even ones that are long forgotten. While our narrator is often frustrated with Kalaj's big personality, the two shared a unique friendship that leaves a lasting impact. As this is my third Aciman read, I feel like I have a good grasp of his writing. Aciman is well read and highly intelligent, there is no doubt about that. There are moments in this book that drag a little, alienating readers who may not be as well versed in certain topics as he is. Overall, this was another great Aciman book, and I'm looking forward to continuing with his backlist.
art11's review against another edition
emotional
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
gerhard's review against another edition
5.0
What an extraordinary novel this is, even more ambitious than Call Me By Your Name. Whereas that novel dealt with an overtly gay relationship, Harvard Square delicately explores the intimate nuances of the evolution, and ultimate dissolution, of an unlikely male friendship.
The unnamed narrator is an Egyptian Jew and Harvard graduate student. He meets Kalaj, a Tunisian Muslim cabdriver, in a cafe one day, and is instantly drawn to his rhetoric and outgoing personality. The two could not be less alike: the narrator is diffident and bookish, while Kalaj is bombastic and outgoing. What they share is a sense of not belonging, steeped in homesickness, and a hankering for an idealized France. Both are outsiders, and therefore see in each other a kindred spirit.
Of course, Aciman runs the risk of alienating the reader and hardening his heart against a mouthpiece character like Kalaj (short for Kalashnikov), especially if he constantly rails against the iniquities of 'ersatz' America.
It is therefore an extraordinary achievement that the reader not only empathizes with Kalaj, but gradually begins to fall a little in love with his fallibility and dandyish outspokenness. Not for Aciman the traditional plot of having such a character gradually becoming radicalised and exacting a tragic and terrible revenge.
No, Aciman takes the much more tricky route of exploring the plight of the outsider in America, and how difficult assimilation can really be. There are no easy answers here, and Aciman is careful to show these characters warts-and-all. At the end of the day, Kalaj is rather unlikeable and frightening, while the narrator comes across occasionally as so gormless that the exasperated reader just wants to box his ears.
Aciman is a master of nostalgia and regret. Here he uses a framing device of the narrator bringing his own disinterested son to Harvard, and thinking back on his friendship with Kalaj, which paints the novel in a glowing and vaguely Spielbergian light. It is a risky strategy, as being too cloying could alienate the reader as much -- if not more so -- than coming across as too radical and West-bashing.
However, it works beautifully. The ending, in particular, is exquisite and heartbreaking, and inimitably so in the best Aciman fashion.
A lot of so-called 'political' novels are overly strident, and often make a point of wearing their hearts and colours on their book sleeves, so the reader is constantly reminded that what they are reading is An Important Statement. This is a particular temptation for authors dealing with the rather muddled and serio-comic politics of the Middle East region, where it is frighteningly easy to paint people black or white, without taking into account the myriad gradations of grey.
Harvard Square is a deeply affecting novel of outsiders trying to establish an identity and cultural roots in their chosen new homeland, but facing the consequences of entrenched xenophobia. It is a topical and highly relevant theme, and Aciman's humanity and compassion for his characters makes for an utterly exquisite and unforgettable reading experience.
The unnamed narrator is an Egyptian Jew and Harvard graduate student. He meets Kalaj, a Tunisian Muslim cabdriver, in a cafe one day, and is instantly drawn to his rhetoric and outgoing personality. The two could not be less alike: the narrator is diffident and bookish, while Kalaj is bombastic and outgoing. What they share is a sense of not belonging, steeped in homesickness, and a hankering for an idealized France. Both are outsiders, and therefore see in each other a kindred spirit.
Of course, Aciman runs the risk of alienating the reader and hardening his heart against a mouthpiece character like Kalaj (short for Kalashnikov), especially if he constantly rails against the iniquities of 'ersatz' America.
It is therefore an extraordinary achievement that the reader not only empathizes with Kalaj, but gradually begins to fall a little in love with his fallibility and dandyish outspokenness. Not for Aciman the traditional plot of having such a character gradually becoming radicalised and exacting a tragic and terrible revenge.
No, Aciman takes the much more tricky route of exploring the plight of the outsider in America, and how difficult assimilation can really be. There are no easy answers here, and Aciman is careful to show these characters warts-and-all. At the end of the day, Kalaj is rather unlikeable and frightening, while the narrator comes across occasionally as so gormless that the exasperated reader just wants to box his ears.
Aciman is a master of nostalgia and regret. Here he uses a framing device of the narrator bringing his own disinterested son to Harvard, and thinking back on his friendship with Kalaj, which paints the novel in a glowing and vaguely Spielbergian light. It is a risky strategy, as being too cloying could alienate the reader as much -- if not more so -- than coming across as too radical and West-bashing.
However, it works beautifully. The ending, in particular, is exquisite and heartbreaking, and inimitably so in the best Aciman fashion.
A lot of so-called 'political' novels are overly strident, and often make a point of wearing their hearts and colours on their book sleeves, so the reader is constantly reminded that what they are reading is An Important Statement. This is a particular temptation for authors dealing with the rather muddled and serio-comic politics of the Middle East region, where it is frighteningly easy to paint people black or white, without taking into account the myriad gradations of grey.
Harvard Square is a deeply affecting novel of outsiders trying to establish an identity and cultural roots in their chosen new homeland, but facing the consequences of entrenched xenophobia. It is a topical and highly relevant theme, and Aciman's humanity and compassion for his characters makes for an utterly exquisite and unforgettable reading experience.
revg's review against another edition
5.0
I’ve read two Andre Aciman books now and I am really amazed by his ability to completely transport the reader to a tiny part of the world at a very specific time. Like “Call Me By Your Name,” this book beautifully captures the lasting impression someone can have on you even if the time you spent with them was very brief.
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