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A review by diandrouspetrocosmea
His Own Man by Kim Hastings, Edgard Telles Ribeiro
4.0
“There are deaths that snuff out a single life. And others that, like military coups, finish off an entire generation.”
I received a copy of this book through the First Reads Program. My rating is closer to 3.75 stars than a full-fledged four.
His Own Man is one character’s investigation of the history and mind of his former friend and fellow diplomat: Marcílio Andrade Xavier, nicknamed Max, later codenamed “Sam Beckett.” The fascinating manipulations and maneuvering begin around Brazil’s military coup of 1964; (somewhat conveniently) winding through South America, the United States, and Europe for decades onward. Both the narration and the dialogue can be quite verbose with context and discussion, which can some times get in the way of appreciating the characters and story. However, the translation seems smooth, and a clear questioning voice carries the novel.
Ribeiro is strongest when describing behavior; particularly of those shaping and shaped by power, and those thrashing through or forever changed by fear. Max may joke that “Horror lives next door,” but even a relatively privileged diplomat like himself can’t completely escape the violence of that era. The narrator’s own culpability is briefly mentioned here and there, but is likely set in deliberate relief to the flagrant machinations of Max. This narrator should have heeded his own criticism and omitted the postscript of the final chapter, but otherwise it’s a graceful end for a novel about personal examination.
I received a copy of this book through the First Reads Program. My rating is closer to 3.75 stars than a full-fledged four.
His Own Man is one character’s investigation of the history and mind of his former friend and fellow diplomat: Marcílio Andrade Xavier, nicknamed Max, later codenamed “Sam Beckett.” The fascinating manipulations and maneuvering begin around Brazil’s military coup of 1964; (somewhat conveniently) winding through South America, the United States, and Europe for decades onward. Both the narration and the dialogue can be quite verbose with context and discussion, which can some times get in the way of appreciating the characters and story. However, the translation seems smooth, and a clear questioning voice carries the novel.
Ribeiro is strongest when describing behavior; particularly of those shaping and shaped by power, and those thrashing through or forever changed by fear. Max may joke that “Horror lives next door,” but even a relatively privileged diplomat like himself can’t completely escape the violence of that era. The narrator’s own culpability is briefly mentioned here and there, but is likely set in deliberate relief to the flagrant machinations of Max. This narrator should have heeded his own criticism and omitted the postscript of the final chapter, but otherwise it’s a graceful end for a novel about personal examination.