Teju Cole’s first novel is uneventful, but don’t let that deter you. The book follows Julius, a young Nigerian doctor, as he wanders Manhattan. Little happens. His powers of observation are keen; his memory possibly less so. 9/11 hovers in the background, the city’s openness up for debate. The writing is like a soft lens that every so often snaps into focus.
It is right that the murder of many people be mourned and lamented.
Even the best weapon is an unhappy tool.
What do they do, the singers, tale-writers, dancers, painters, shapers, makers?
Five principles for embracing uncertainty.
Where to give all your precious fucks.
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