Who we are is a
product of the experiences we have had: who we have known, who we have loved,
who we have detested, and who we have tolerated; the places that we have been,
the meals we have eaten, and the books we have read. We define ourselves by what
we think is relevant, what we think is witty, what we think is clever and what
we think others will find appealing in us.
But who are we
really? Are we the people we think we are? Are we the people that others want
us to be? Do we undergo a process of reinvention as we move from place to
place, interaction to interaction, and role to role? These are the questions
that Tom Rachman most brilliantly explores in his most recent book, The Rise & Fall of Great Powers.
The Rise & Fall of Great Powers is a history. It explores the dynamics of
power and politics. It asks the great questions of what it means to be, to be
present, and to be heard. But it isn't the book you think it is, or at least it
isn't the book it's title most directly suggests. More specifically, The Rise & Fall of Great Powers is
the personal history of Tooly Zylberberg, itinerant outsider, inveterate
observer, and seemingly incorrigible accomplice. Over a span of 23 years,
Rachman explores Tooly's development. She begins as a precocious child of nine,
trusting, timid, and tentatively finding out who she is. She ends with, perhaps,
a new beginning.
Throughout the
book, Rachman plays with themes of itinerancy, identity and ideology. Three key
periods of Tooly's life are interwoven in an intricate Gordian knot, only
becoming clear once inexorably split apart. Rachman's characters are
delightful, wholly drawn and richly narrated, while avoiding the fate of
overwrought caricature. His dialogue is brilliantly crafted and resonant, words
taking shape in the mind's ear, and he has an incredible gift for illustrating
place and scene with just a few deftly observed and pithily phrased details. I
laughed out loud at many of his turns of phrase, delighting in Rachman's
imagery and imagination.
The Rise & Fall of Great Powers is an astonishing meditation on family
and friendship, meaning and purpose, destiny and opportunism. The more you
think you know as the book unfolds, the less you truly understand. The more
that Rachman reveals, the more you question the motives, meaning
and—occasionally—meanness of others. Rachman is a great observer of society,
culture and the human condition, and has produced an overwhelmingly magnificent
book that I couldn't put down and yet didn't want to end. It is one of those
rare and delightful novels that provides rich rewards on many levels
simultaneously, and can likely not just survive but satisfyingly sustain
numerous re-readings. This is one of my favourite books of the last few years,
and it is one that I recommend unreservedly.
Mark
Mullaly is an avid reader, sometimes writer, enthusiastic motorcyclist
and lover of wine (and endeavours to engage in only one of these
pursuits at any given time).
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