The second book from Aleksandar Hemon is a collection of semi-autobiographical vignettes starring Blind Jozef Pronek, who featured previously in an eponymous short story. A Bosnian of Ukrainian descent, Pronek wanders through life as a failed blues musician, an incompetent soldier, a would-be detective and a reluctant Greenpeace volunteer. Along the way, he witnesses the collapse of the Soviet Union and enters suburban Chicago society.
Though frequently compared to Nabokov and Joseph Conrad, the author Hemon most closely evokes here is Ralph Ellison. Like the narrator of Invisible Man, Pronek functions as a virtual blank slate for characters to project their assumptions about foreigners, war and religion. Pronek’s attempts to assert his own identity are consistently ignored, right up until the book’s vaguely horrific climax.
Pronek is more than just a political statement, however. Hemon fleshes him out while keeping an air of mystery around him. Pronek’s love of The Beatles gives the book its title, while his poor grasp of English makes for some often-hilarious dialogue. It’s worth noting that the author’s command of the language is as masterful as the character’s is shoddy.
The episodic quality of Nowhere Man makes it difficult to follow as a linear narrative and some sections evoke a disjointed, dreamlike quality. The final section in particular is disconnected plot wise from everything else in the book, though the strong thematic connection more than justifies its inclusion. The frequent point-of-view shifts, on the other hand, can bring reading to a standstill while you wonder where a given part of the story is coming from.
On the whole, Nowhere Man is funny, tragic, fluid, and well worth reading. At less than 250 pages, it lacks the heft and expansiveness of a great literary tome, but Hemon still displays gifts that more verbose writers could only hope to borrow one day.
8.25/10
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