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oxnard_montalvo's review against another edition
4.0
My thoughts on this one are complicated, which is one of the reasons i'm giving it as high a rating as I am. It's a very well written book- the prose is clear and precise and icy, not quite sterile but certainly clinical. The narrator walks around with a hypersensitivity to his surroundings and interactions with others but that never quite penetrates the surface of himself.
Something about it brought to mind American Psycho, mostly in his constant name dropping and meditations on culture, but also because of this subtle undercurrent of threat. The big reveal was handled pretty clumsily. That aside, it's been an intriguing ride.
Something about it brought to mind American Psycho, mostly in his constant name dropping and meditations on culture, but also because of this subtle undercurrent of threat. The big reveal was handled pretty clumsily. That aside, it's been an intriguing ride.
trin's review
2.0
This is the second Teju Cole book I have read that has engendered deeply mixed reactions in me. And unfortunately, after this one -- and particularly one incident toward the end -- I think I am done with him.
On the one hand, there were passages in Open City that I deeply loved: beautifully written and evocative wanderer's musings about New York City that reminded me of one of my recent favorite books, [b:The Long-Winded Lady|299435|The Long-Winded Lady Notes from The New Yorker|Maeve Brennan|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1328050456s/299435.jpg|290509]. Cole intermixes these travels with reflections on the various marginalized peoples who have inhabited the streets his character, Julius, walks in a way that also bore fond comparisons to [a:Edmund White|15975|Edmund White|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1386885403p2/15975.jpg]'s [b:The Flaneur|109724|The Flaneur A Stroll through the Paradoxes of Paris|Edmund White|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1369505859s/109724.jpg|16186642]. And I even enjoyed many of the (often implausible) extended conversations Julius has with random people he meets. For a while I felt that the act of Julius mostly passively listening to strangers regaling him with their life stories would ultimately illuminate his character, as in [a:Rachel Cusk|46051|Rachel Cusk|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1268246552p2/46051.jpg]'s [b:Outline|21400742|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1403832251s/21400742.jpg|40698498]. But no. Mostly they just revealed his tendency to make snap judgments about people.
Until finally they reveal -- spoiler and trigger warning, I guess -- that he may have raped a girl at a party years ago? I had to stop and reread several pages, but no: the accusation is made (by a woman Julius is in lust with) and he never refutes it? The wandering narrative just wanders on? WTF? WTF? WTF?
Picture a loud record-scratch sound effect in my brain, which I am still hearing as I type this.
I don't know. I am really interested in Cole's depictions of the black experience, specifically the African immigrant experience, but I don't think I want to hear anything more that someone has to say on compassion or tolerance if they're willing to drop something like that in for -- I am not even sure what effect. Some last-minute literary shock value?
I got bounced hard out of Cole's [b:Known and Strange Things|25743316|Known and Strange Things|Teju Cole|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1464964228s/25743316.jpg|45583698] by the essay in which he suggests that Barack Obama isn't really black enough. I'm more willing to acknowledge a difference of opinion when I am not a member of the oppressed group most involved in the discussion, but as a bona fide lady, I can safely say: hey! Rape is not something I am cool with being tossed off as a random, nonsensical plot point. I'm done.
On the one hand, there were passages in Open City that I deeply loved: beautifully written and evocative wanderer's musings about New York City that reminded me of one of my recent favorite books, [b:The Long-Winded Lady|299435|The Long-Winded Lady Notes from The New Yorker|Maeve Brennan|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1328050456s/299435.jpg|290509]. Cole intermixes these travels with reflections on the various marginalized peoples who have inhabited the streets his character, Julius, walks in a way that also bore fond comparisons to [a:Edmund White|15975|Edmund White|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1386885403p2/15975.jpg]'s [b:The Flaneur|109724|The Flaneur A Stroll through the Paradoxes of Paris|Edmund White|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1369505859s/109724.jpg|16186642]. And I even enjoyed many of the (often implausible) extended conversations Julius has with random people he meets. For a while I felt that the act of Julius mostly passively listening to strangers regaling him with their life stories would ultimately illuminate his character, as in [a:Rachel Cusk|46051|Rachel Cusk|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1268246552p2/46051.jpg]'s [b:Outline|21400742|Outline|Rachel Cusk|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1403832251s/21400742.jpg|40698498]. But no. Mostly they just revealed his tendency to make snap judgments about people.
Until finally they reveal -- spoiler and trigger warning, I guess -- that he may have raped a girl at a party years ago? I had to stop and reread several pages, but no: the accusation is made (by a woman Julius is in lust with) and he never refutes it? The wandering narrative just wanders on? WTF? WTF? WTF?
Picture a loud record-scratch sound effect in my brain, which I am still hearing as I type this.
I don't know. I am really interested in Cole's depictions of the black experience, specifically the African immigrant experience, but I don't think I want to hear anything more that someone has to say on compassion or tolerance if they're willing to drop something like that in for -- I am not even sure what effect. Some last-minute literary shock value?
I got bounced hard out of Cole's [b:Known and Strange Things|25743316|Known and Strange Things|Teju Cole|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1464964228s/25743316.jpg|45583698] by the essay in which he suggests that Barack Obama isn't really black enough. I'm more willing to acknowledge a difference of opinion when I am not a member of the oppressed group most involved in the discussion, but as a bona fide lady, I can safely say: hey! Rape is not something I am cool with being tossed off as a random, nonsensical plot point. I'm done.
gadicohen93's review
3.0
The problem with the Goodreads rating system is that it is so hard to be precise that I can sometimes become obsessively distracted in the middle of reading a book by the number of stars I plan on bestowing on it. Usually, however, becoming distracted is not auspicious for a book’s rating. With Open City, I spent large portions of chapters thinking to myself about the book’s merits, constantly vacillating between a 3 and a 4; towards the end, though, I decided to round my number down.
The best thing about the book, hands down, was Manhattan. I miss it so and Teju really takes us swerving through its streets in the same way I would, with the same solitary explorer feeling bubbling up inside. But, then again, I don’t think he did it particularly well – it wasn’t the artistry of his sentences as much as his specific allusions to streets and distinguishing visuals. In the same vein, much of the most interesting segments of the novel functioned technically as day-to-day encounters with more thematic important allusions, from literature to politics to race to culture to medicine.
I really liked some of those elongated allusions. It’s not like I greatly appreciated the talent behind, say, the author typing up what seems like a typical conversation about Palestine/Israel between himself and an Arab immigrant to Belgium – rather, I appreciated the honesty, the realism, the evocation of the emotions transferred between the two chatterers. On that level of narration – the investigation of the mundane for the profound – this book succeeded.
That’s not to say that I wasn’t bored by it. More than I thought was warranted, it felt like the author was trying to infect the narrative with an elongated, humdrum experience just to eventually cough up some casual insight. Sometimes, he goes into these literary or musical digressions that remind me of my dad trying to explain something to me for the thirtieth time – “I didn’t ask to hear you explain Mahler’s 9th, and I’m not enjoying it one bit, and I get that you’re intellectual and interdisciplinary and shit, but please just stop.”
Like life, much of Open City is memorable, but, then again, much of it is not. I’d read it again for the little insightful jewels in the velvet.
The best thing about the book, hands down, was Manhattan. I miss it so and Teju really takes us swerving through its streets in the same way I would, with the same solitary explorer feeling bubbling up inside. But, then again, I don’t think he did it particularly well – it wasn’t the artistry of his sentences as much as his specific allusions to streets and distinguishing visuals. In the same vein, much of the most interesting segments of the novel functioned technically as day-to-day encounters with more thematic important allusions, from literature to politics to race to culture to medicine.
I really liked some of those elongated allusions. It’s not like I greatly appreciated the talent behind, say, the author typing up what seems like a typical conversation about Palestine/Israel between himself and an Arab immigrant to Belgium – rather, I appreciated the honesty, the realism, the evocation of the emotions transferred between the two chatterers. On that level of narration – the investigation of the mundane for the profound – this book succeeded.
That’s not to say that I wasn’t bored by it. More than I thought was warranted, it felt like the author was trying to infect the narrative with an elongated, humdrum experience just to eventually cough up some casual insight. Sometimes, he goes into these literary or musical digressions that remind me of my dad trying to explain something to me for the thirtieth time – “I didn’t ask to hear you explain Mahler’s 9th, and I’m not enjoying it one bit, and I get that you’re intellectual and interdisciplinary and shit, but please just stop.”
Like life, much of Open City is memorable, but, then again, much of it is not. I’d read it again for the little insightful jewels in the velvet.
txkatlovesbooks's review
I just wasn't feeling like any compelling story was developing.
jrl6809's review
challenging
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
Really liked this one. Julius was a really fascinating narrator, I appreciate how he makes you consider the ways in which you as an individual internalize and relay the story of your own identity, and whether you are a "reliable narrator" of you own life (and obviously, no one is). It will also make you wonder about others around you-how much of what they tell you can be taken at face value. To what extent may they have crafted a personality that may not be genuine but which even they believe in? A lot of the other conversations in this are thought provoking as well.
ecross_poppy's review against another edition
Felt like norwegian slow tv and I thought in a good way, but it was just hit or miss for each chapter and how interested I was
smusie's review
3.0
A strange novel. Brilliant at times, but episodic, too abstract. It read at times like a series of short stories, at other times like narrative essays. He can definitely write, but there was a dissonance between form and matter. I will read whatever he writes next.
caseythereader's review against another edition
This doesn't seem like it's going to go anywhere? Also multiple uses of r*tarded and cr*pple.
sairashahid's review against another edition
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
1.5
What is this guy yapping about
a2lulu's review
I couldn’t rate this book because of the revelation at the end - I was dumbstruck. Up until that point I was pretty enthralled and then he suddenly and briefly dropped a bomb, moved on quickly without further exploration, and I was unable to process what I thought of the book. I still don’t know quite what to make of it...