Take a photo of a barcode or cover
deecue2 's review for:
The story itself is very good, the problem here is the telling of that story.
From the very little I know of Bill Browder he seems like a good guy, very bright, excellent businessman, principled, brave, loyal, gives very good interviews, but not a talented writer. (There’s a very good 60 Minutes segment on the story along with several YouTube videos produced by Bill Browder that are worth seeing.) If this book had been written by a professional writer uninvolved with the events of the book it would have been solid.
I almost gave up in the very beginning because the writing seemed so amateurish and unintentionally funny. Sweeping generalities are commonplace. The tone is very hearsay/schoolyard-ish and out of proportion to the events described. It’s loaded down with unnecessary detail about what people wore and what their physical appearances projected (“good” people were treated far more charitably than “bad” people, and everyone was either one or the other). Quoted conversations were painfully stilted. (I think every sentence directed to the author had his name in it. “What do you mean, Bill?” “Bill, I can’t believe it’s true.” “I have to say, Bill, we’ve got some serious trouble on our hands.”) (Even worse, “bad” people were occasionally quoted stuttering in fear. “W-what did you just say Bill?” “B-bill, this conversation’s over.”)
Here’s an actual quote from the book (I made up the ones above but they’re in the true spirit of what I read. I’m too lazy to track the real quotes down) regarding his mother:
“Going from poverty to comfort and then back to poverty was so traumatic that, to this day, my mother collects sugar packets and sneaks rolls from restaurant breadbaskets into her handbag.” Big deal, my mother walks out with the plates, silverware, glassware and tablecloth but you don’t see me writing about that in books.
And these troubling sequences (again, real quotes this time) relating to his time at boarding school and a visit by his mother:
“On my first night, a band of students came to my room and started rummaging through my drawers, taking whatever they wanted. When I objected, they jumped me, held me down, and chanted over and over, “Time for the titty-twisters, Billy Browder! Time for the titty-twisters!...I decided not to tell her about getting beat up every night or the titty-twisters, and I didn’t know whether she suspected any of it...I decided that while returning to the warm bosom of my mother sounded like the most appealing thing in the world at the moment...After saying good-bye, I returned to my room, and as I passed the sophomore bunk area, I could hear a pair of boys hissing, TTs for BB, TTs for BB"” I’m sensing a recurring theme here. And can we just refer to proper name of the titty-twister? Yes, the Bluey Louie.
Another true quote:
“This had been fed into the pysches of ordinary Russians from the moment they were on their mothers’ breasts.” There he goes again!
I can’t help myself:
“Her lipstick was redder than before, and her black dress was simultaneously tighter and classier than anything I’d seen her in before. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was sexy...Before we said good-bye that night, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her toward me, and without any resistance, we shared our first real kiss.” Hubba hubba. Anyone got a cigarette?
One more:
“He made the oligarchs his “bitches,” consolidated his power, and, by many estimates, became the richest man in the world.”
If you like this kind of writing this book is an absolute gold mine.
From the very little I know of Bill Browder he seems like a good guy, very bright, excellent businessman, principled, brave, loyal, gives very good interviews, but not a talented writer. (There’s a very good 60 Minutes segment on the story along with several YouTube videos produced by Bill Browder that are worth seeing.) If this book had been written by a professional writer uninvolved with the events of the book it would have been solid.
I almost gave up in the very beginning because the writing seemed so amateurish and unintentionally funny. Sweeping generalities are commonplace. The tone is very hearsay/schoolyard-ish and out of proportion to the events described. It’s loaded down with unnecessary detail about what people wore and what their physical appearances projected (“good” people were treated far more charitably than “bad” people, and everyone was either one or the other). Quoted conversations were painfully stilted. (I think every sentence directed to the author had his name in it. “What do you mean, Bill?” “Bill, I can’t believe it’s true.” “I have to say, Bill, we’ve got some serious trouble on our hands.”) (Even worse, “bad” people were occasionally quoted stuttering in fear. “W-what did you just say Bill?” “B-bill, this conversation’s over.”)
Here’s an actual quote from the book (I made up the ones above but they’re in the true spirit of what I read. I’m too lazy to track the real quotes down) regarding his mother:
“Going from poverty to comfort and then back to poverty was so traumatic that, to this day, my mother collects sugar packets and sneaks rolls from restaurant breadbaskets into her handbag.” Big deal, my mother walks out with the plates, silverware, glassware and tablecloth but you don’t see me writing about that in books.
And these troubling sequences (again, real quotes this time) relating to his time at boarding school and a visit by his mother:
“On my first night, a band of students came to my room and started rummaging through my drawers, taking whatever they wanted. When I objected, they jumped me, held me down, and chanted over and over, “Time for the titty-twisters, Billy Browder! Time for the titty-twisters!...I decided not to tell her about getting beat up every night or the titty-twisters, and I didn’t know whether she suspected any of it...I decided that while returning to the warm bosom of my mother sounded like the most appealing thing in the world at the moment...After saying good-bye, I returned to my room, and as I passed the sophomore bunk area, I could hear a pair of boys hissing, TTs for BB, TTs for BB"” I’m sensing a recurring theme here. And can we just refer to proper name of the titty-twister? Yes, the Bluey Louie.
Another true quote:
“This had been fed into the pysches of ordinary Russians from the moment they were on their mothers’ breasts.” There he goes again!
I can’t help myself:
“Her lipstick was redder than before, and her black dress was simultaneously tighter and classier than anything I’d seen her in before. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was sexy...Before we said good-bye that night, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her toward me, and without any resistance, we shared our first real kiss.” Hubba hubba. Anyone got a cigarette?
One more:
“He made the oligarchs his “bitches,” consolidated his power, and, by many estimates, became the richest man in the world.”
If you like this kind of writing this book is an absolute gold mine.