July 29, 2010 | Rome, Italy | Partly Cloudy, 27°C
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Fiction

Love and Obstacles

Aleksandar Hemon started writing English in his 20s. A decade later, he's a master.

Reasons for and Advantages of Breathing

Lydia Peelle spins strange and wonderful magic from America's rural outback.

My Revolutions

Hari Kunzru's attempt to make 60s terrorism relevant suffers from tediousness.

36 Arguments for the Existence of God

Rebecca Newberger Goldstein "fangs" away enjoyably on the subject of God.

Little Hands Clapping

Dan Rhodes runs riot in this suicide-loving, penis-munching satire of all things macabre.

Point Omega

Don DeLillo mixes Iraq, Hitchcock, and intimations of doomsday in his dubious Omega brew.

The Stories of Breece D'J Pancake

Pancake's stories continue sparkling long after his death by suicide in 1979.

Monsieur Pain

Bolaño takes his magic and alchemy to prewar Paris.

Any Human Face

Charles Lambert's new novel puts a modest man on a collision course with Italy's dark side.

The Concert Ticket

Olga Grushin confirms her status as one of the best young writers in the English language.




BOOK REVIEW
Gentlemen of the Road
By Michael Chabon
Ballantine Books, . 204 pages

Clocking in at a scant 204 pages, it would be inaccurate to call "Gentlemen of the Road" Michael Chabon's second published novel in six months. In fact, "Gentlemen" reads more like a novella, something to be read with the lights out or around a dying campfire. Surely this was Chabon's intention, as he is the reigning master of High Genre Fiction.

But unlike his truly masterful "Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay" and nearly masterful "Yiddish Policeman's Union," both of which used genre-play as a template for serious fiction (does the term make us cringe?), "Gentlemen" lacks a convincing plot and well-drawn characters. The action is set in Khazaria, a mythical Jewish kingdom wedged in between the Caspian and Black Seas, around the year 900 C.E.

The heroes — or "gentlemen of the road" — are a pair of horse-thieves, a huge black African named Amram and a wiry Frank called Zelikman. The book is almost nonstop action (knife fights, chases, cursing by humans and animals in various languages), although one gets the impression Chabon himself had only a vague idea of where it was headed as he was writing. The reader is left boggled by illustrious locutions like, "…despite his protestations of senescence, which were universally regarded as gamesmanship…" Chabon, one of our great novelists, could have benefited from a re-reading of the Elements of Style.