What do you think?
Rate this book
Home boy
A volte non te ne accorgi subito che un giorno può cambiarti la vita.
Poi succede qualcosa e capisci che sì, è stato quel giorno.
Per Chuck, AC e Jimbo quel giorno è l’11 settembre 2001. Uno è laureato in Lettere e fa il tassista, uno è un dandy intellettuale che parla a colpi di rap, il terzo è un tipo solitario, un dj dalla loquela studiata. Sono viveur, cantastorie, uomini del Rinascimento. Leggono ogni giorno il Times e il Post. Conoscono i classici russi e la narrativa americana contemporanea. Passano le serate nei club di Manhattan, fra musica, alcol e ragazze. A New York conta più sapersi inventare che la tua origine.
Poi l’11 settembre. Da quel giorno la logica delle cose cambia: non sono più giovani pakistani di fede musulmana. No. Ormai sono musulmani quindi terroristi, terroristi in quanto musulmani. Lo capiscono a loro spese, quando, qualche settimana dopo, entrano di soppiatto nella casa dello Sciamano, una sorta di Grande Gatsby pakistano, scomparso dopo essere entrato a far parte di un’importante agenzia assicurativa. Ma ormai l’occhio dei vicini è acuto: un taxi parcheggiato nel vialetto fuori casa è ovviamente un’autobomba, tre ombre che si muovono in una stanza, tre menti che progettano un attentato. E così, quando la polizia arresta Chuck, AC e Jimbo, l’accusa non può che essere di sospetta attività terroristica, e i giorni in carcere, giorni di botte e soprusi.
E così la vita cambia. Ora non sono solo «diversi », sono anche pericolosi.
E forse solo il ritorno ai valori e agli affetti della propria gente potrà lenire il dolore causato da un marchio infamante. Ironia e amicizia, poesia di strada e grandi riferimenti letterari, cultura pop e politica, storia e commedia, Oriente e Occidente raccontano come tre storie di integrazione possano diventare altrettante storie di disintegrazione, sullo sfondo di una New York che è una bomba a orologeria, pronta a linciare l’amico di ieri e nemico di oggi, ma che al contempo combatte con se stessa per tornare a essere la terra della libertà.
Poi succede qualcosa e capisci che sì, è stato quel giorno.
Per Chuck, AC e Jimbo quel giorno è l’11 settembre 2001. Uno è laureato in Lettere e fa il tassista, uno è un dandy intellettuale che parla a colpi di rap, il terzo è un tipo solitario, un dj dalla loquela studiata. Sono viveur, cantastorie, uomini del Rinascimento. Leggono ogni giorno il Times e il Post. Conoscono i classici russi e la narrativa americana contemporanea. Passano le serate nei club di Manhattan, fra musica, alcol e ragazze. A New York conta più sapersi inventare che la tua origine.
Poi l’11 settembre. Da quel giorno la logica delle cose cambia: non sono più giovani pakistani di fede musulmana. No. Ormai sono musulmani quindi terroristi, terroristi in quanto musulmani. Lo capiscono a loro spese, quando, qualche settimana dopo, entrano di soppiatto nella casa dello Sciamano, una sorta di Grande Gatsby pakistano, scomparso dopo essere entrato a far parte di un’importante agenzia assicurativa. Ma ormai l’occhio dei vicini è acuto: un taxi parcheggiato nel vialetto fuori casa è ovviamente un’autobomba, tre ombre che si muovono in una stanza, tre menti che progettano un attentato. E così, quando la polizia arresta Chuck, AC e Jimbo, l’accusa non può che essere di sospetta attività terroristica, e i giorni in carcere, giorni di botte e soprusi.
E così la vita cambia. Ora non sono solo «diversi », sono anche pericolosi.
E forse solo il ritorno ai valori e agli affetti della propria gente potrà lenire il dolore causato da un marchio infamante. Ironia e amicizia, poesia di strada e grandi riferimenti letterari, cultura pop e politica, storia e commedia, Oriente e Occidente raccontano come tre storie di integrazione possano diventare altrettante storie di disintegrazione, sullo sfondo di una New York che è una bomba a orologeria, pronta a linciare l’amico di ieri e nemico di oggi, ma che al contempo combatte con se stessa per tornare a essere la terra della libertà.
288 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
About the author
H.M. Naqvi
4 books27 followersH. M. NAQVI is a graduate of Georgetown and the creative writing program at Boston University. He won the Phelam Prize for poetry and represented Pakistan at the National Poetry Slam in Ann Arbor, Michigan. In recent years, he taught creative writing at B.U., and presently divides his time between Karachi and the U.S. East Coast.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 74 reviews
August 14, 2020
Home Boy might have the dubious honour of being the most patronizing Pakistani book I’ve read yet. Even though I’ve read quite a few Pakistani fiction novels with horribly misinformed intentions, Home Boy takes the cake for its utterly pompous tone. But let me start at the beginning.
Here’s the first line of the blurb: “They are renaissance men. They are boulevardiers.”
Now take that sentence, add at least eleven more SAT words to it, and repeat ad nauseam. You have the entire book. It’s the equivalent of the most pretentious sentence you have ever read, expanded into a whole novel. A 216-page long exercise in pure, flamboyant torture.
But I’m getting ahead of myself again.
The characters:
Though we shared a common denominator and were told half-jokingly, Oh, all you Pakistanis are alike, we weren’t the same, AC, Jimbo and me.
Chuck, AC and Jimbo are three Pakistani boys lost in the revelry of their New York City lives around the time of the change of the millennium. It takes no time at all for a rain of adjectives to descend upon the reader’s head when we meet these characters. Show and don’t tell? Pfft, this book is too high-and-mighty for such tactics. This book would rather prefer to tell you, dear not-very-intelligent reader, in as condescending a manner as possible, exactly what these characters are like, so as not to tax your tiny little brain into trying to figure them out yourself.
AC – a cryptonym, short in part for Ali Chaudhry – was a charming rogue, an intellectual dandy, a man of theatrical presence. Striding into a room sporting his signature pencil-thin moustache, one-button velour smoking jacket, and ankle high rattlesnake-skins, he demanded attention, an audience.
AC, according to the blurb, is a gangsta rap-spouting academic. Let me stop you right there for now. A ‘rap-spouting academic’? It’s like someone had a deck of characteristics and thought, ‘Hmm, how shall I make my characters interesting? I want them to be likeable, but also, three dimensional! I know! I shall throw in the two most conflicting characteristics!” *shuffles cards* “Aha! An academic who raps! Never been done before. I shall use this. Next character.”
It is the most cringe-worthy attempt at creating a 3 dimensional character ever. AC does not inspire any affection in the reader, and the same goes for Chuck, a lost, unrelatable character with no admirable traits and a distinct lack of narrative drive. What does Chuck want? Why should I be concerned about him? Why am I reading a 216-page book about Chuck’s life? Who the hell knows?! Chuck is quite possibly the most uninspiring protagonist ever. I did not root for him, did not care for him, and found myself having no reaction to either his successes or failures.
Later, when reviewing the episode in my mind, I recalled things to say, funny things, bold things, things men say to woo women, but just then I stood there dumbly, my hands flopping at my side. It was as if my reservoir of cool had run dry. It was time to leave.
The third character is Jimbo, another one off of the automatic story generator algorithm, a card-shuffled character with daddy issues and no concrete story line to follow. He is dating a girl his father doesn’t approve of; he has a good looking sister conveniently crushing over his best friend Chuck; he is a physically dominating man with a sappy side story and a moralistic streak. Again, do we learn to care about him? Do we root for his relationship or for his dad to become more accepting? Do we admire his deejaying abilities or hope for a better future for him? Nope. Non. Nyet. Nhi.
The Summary:
The backdrop is 9/11, and our three valiant heroes are, in the months following the attack on the Trade Towers, setting off to find a missing friend. Although friend might be stretching it a bit. The Shaman is a random, pointless character whose only worth is in being missing, so that the three musketeers can go off searching for him in another city, spend the night drunk at his house and end up getting arrested for ‘terrorist activities’. The story is not so much about the journey to save a friend’s life, as one would assume from the panic caused after 9/11 but more about Chuck, and the first time Chuck drove a car, and the time when Chuck got fired, and that other time when he became a cab driver, and oh of course the one time he got scared in New York and randomly called up one of his mother’s old friends whom he didn’t really know. And then Chuck goes home at the end, presumably more lost and confused than he was at the beginning. The end.
The good:
How do you peer into somebody’s heart or head? It wasn’t that I was a Pollyanna, but I had no functional appreciation for prejudice, because I had never faced any.
Sometimes, very rarely, the book manages to surprise. In the midst of the posturing and the heavy-handed self-importance, sentences of worth and value crop up suddenly, as if these were the first, few sparks of inspiration which led to the mundane text-wrapping around them.
I was broken, depleted, more cipher than actor, but kept thinking don’t trip, don’t break a leg, walk with your head up high, like you’ve done nothing wrong, but couldn’t, and it didn’t really matter, because no matter what I did, I couldn’t change the way I was perceived.
Another saving grace is the familiarity with New York, the setting of the book. Given that the majority of the book is set in the city, the reader is welcomed to the home that New York becomes for Chuck and his friends.
You could spend ten years in Britain and not feel British, but after spending ten months in New York, you were a New Yorker, an original settler, and in no time you would be zipping uptown, downtown, crosstown, wherever, strutting, jaywalking, dispensing directions to tourists like a mandarin. “You see,” you’d say, “it’s quite simple: the city’s like a grid.”
The bad:
Don’t ask me, I thought. I don’t know nothing. AC was the go-to guy for advice and instruction. I was a village idiot.
The worst thing about the book is the fact that it is written about, and from the point of view of, probably the most boring narrator ever. Chuck inspires no warmth or affection, no feelings of understanding, no desire to care or relate on any level. He is like the epitome of the self-obsessed male, a personification of the privileged straight young man whose world begins and ends with his opinion and the sound of his loud, loud voice drowning everyone else out.
Since I had no particular calling, having majored in lit, a discipline in which, I learned, anything goes, I did what I had to do: after dispatching some resumes on thick paper and making some phone calls, I secured interviews and then a job at a big bank that had just become bigger.
Oh ho hum, I DON’T CARE. It is the banality of the book that kills me. There is a degree of unremarkability (not a word, but I’m using this to honour the book’s ‘Let’s use big big words to impress people’ pretentiousness) about the whole proceedings that left me alternatively yawning or raising my eyes to the heavens in the hope that Allah would come and strike this book with a lightning bolt so I could stop reading it.
At the time we didn’t think that there was more to it than the mere sense of spectacle. We were content in celebrating ourselves and our city with libation. It was later that we realized that we’d been on common ground then, on terra firma. Later we also realized that we hadn’t been putting on some sort of show for others, for somebody else. No, we were protagonists in a narrative that required coherence for our own selfish motivations and exigencies.
And oh my god the words, the WORDS. Did I mention the complete-thesaurus regurgitation going on here? The characters don’t just speak out in protest, they fulminate. They don’t think, they ruminate. Conversing with Jimbo requires ‘hermeneutic feats’, AC delivers ‘some sort of disquisition’, and Chuck enters murky bathrooms to get high ‘tout seul’. By the third page, I had already looked up nine words in the dictionary. And this coming from the person who is the stand-in, walking talking dictionary for the rest of her family. Who is this book written for? Those who read dictionaries in their free time?
The sudden random references to Karachi places (Burns Road) or desi terms (chappati) are also jarring; the equivalent of an expatriate hurriedly and awkwardly using Urdu works among formal elders to reassure that they haven’t lost their desi roots. This book is the guy who flicks through a travel brochure to pick out the local-sounding names and throws them haphazardly together. It’s not familiar. It’s not comforting. You want to patronizingly pat the character’s head, while at the same time wincing because he has committed the social faux pas of pretending to know more Urdu than he actually does.
The recommendation:
Recommended for people who have travelled to New York/are studying for their GREs/wish to balance out the awesome books they’re reading with some mindless drivel. Maybe. Read at your own discretion. This reviewer takes no responsibility for the feeling of distaste or boredom that will eventually creep in.
*
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
Here’s the first line of the blurb: “They are renaissance men. They are boulevardiers.”
Now take that sentence, add at least eleven more SAT words to it, and repeat ad nauseam. You have the entire book. It’s the equivalent of the most pretentious sentence you have ever read, expanded into a whole novel. A 216-page long exercise in pure, flamboyant torture.
But I’m getting ahead of myself again.
The characters:
Though we shared a common denominator and were told half-jokingly, Oh, all you Pakistanis are alike, we weren’t the same, AC, Jimbo and me.
Chuck, AC and Jimbo are three Pakistani boys lost in the revelry of their New York City lives around the time of the change of the millennium. It takes no time at all for a rain of adjectives to descend upon the reader’s head when we meet these characters. Show and don’t tell? Pfft, this book is too high-and-mighty for such tactics. This book would rather prefer to tell you, dear not-very-intelligent reader, in as condescending a manner as possible, exactly what these characters are like, so as not to tax your tiny little brain into trying to figure them out yourself.
AC – a cryptonym, short in part for Ali Chaudhry – was a charming rogue, an intellectual dandy, a man of theatrical presence. Striding into a room sporting his signature pencil-thin moustache, one-button velour smoking jacket, and ankle high rattlesnake-skins, he demanded attention, an audience.
AC, according to the blurb, is a gangsta rap-spouting academic. Let me stop you right there for now. A ‘rap-spouting academic’? It’s like someone had a deck of characteristics and thought, ‘Hmm, how shall I make my characters interesting? I want them to be likeable, but also, three dimensional! I know! I shall throw in the two most conflicting characteristics!” *shuffles cards* “Aha! An academic who raps! Never been done before. I shall use this. Next character.”
It is the most cringe-worthy attempt at creating a 3 dimensional character ever. AC does not inspire any affection in the reader, and the same goes for Chuck, a lost, unrelatable character with no admirable traits and a distinct lack of narrative drive. What does Chuck want? Why should I be concerned about him? Why am I reading a 216-page book about Chuck’s life? Who the hell knows?! Chuck is quite possibly the most uninspiring protagonist ever. I did not root for him, did not care for him, and found myself having no reaction to either his successes or failures.
Later, when reviewing the episode in my mind, I recalled things to say, funny things, bold things, things men say to woo women, but just then I stood there dumbly, my hands flopping at my side. It was as if my reservoir of cool had run dry. It was time to leave.
The third character is Jimbo, another one off of the automatic story generator algorithm, a card-shuffled character with daddy issues and no concrete story line to follow. He is dating a girl his father doesn’t approve of; he has a good looking sister conveniently crushing over his best friend Chuck; he is a physically dominating man with a sappy side story and a moralistic streak. Again, do we learn to care about him? Do we root for his relationship or for his dad to become more accepting? Do we admire his deejaying abilities or hope for a better future for him? Nope. Non. Nyet. Nhi.
The Summary:
The backdrop is 9/11, and our three valiant heroes are, in the months following the attack on the Trade Towers, setting off to find a missing friend. Although friend might be stretching it a bit. The Shaman is a random, pointless character whose only worth is in being missing, so that the three musketeers can go off searching for him in another city, spend the night drunk at his house and end up getting arrested for ‘terrorist activities’. The story is not so much about the journey to save a friend’s life, as one would assume from the panic caused after 9/11 but more about Chuck, and the first time Chuck drove a car, and the time when Chuck got fired, and that other time when he became a cab driver, and oh of course the one time he got scared in New York and randomly called up one of his mother’s old friends whom he didn’t really know. And then Chuck goes home at the end, presumably more lost and confused than he was at the beginning. The end.
The good:
How do you peer into somebody’s heart or head? It wasn’t that I was a Pollyanna, but I had no functional appreciation for prejudice, because I had never faced any.
Sometimes, very rarely, the book manages to surprise. In the midst of the posturing and the heavy-handed self-importance, sentences of worth and value crop up suddenly, as if these were the first, few sparks of inspiration which led to the mundane text-wrapping around them.
I was broken, depleted, more cipher than actor, but kept thinking don’t trip, don’t break a leg, walk with your head up high, like you’ve done nothing wrong, but couldn’t, and it didn’t really matter, because no matter what I did, I couldn’t change the way I was perceived.
Another saving grace is the familiarity with New York, the setting of the book. Given that the majority of the book is set in the city, the reader is welcomed to the home that New York becomes for Chuck and his friends.
You could spend ten years in Britain and not feel British, but after spending ten months in New York, you were a New Yorker, an original settler, and in no time you would be zipping uptown, downtown, crosstown, wherever, strutting, jaywalking, dispensing directions to tourists like a mandarin. “You see,” you’d say, “it’s quite simple: the city’s like a grid.”
The bad:
Don’t ask me, I thought. I don’t know nothing. AC was the go-to guy for advice and instruction. I was a village idiot.
The worst thing about the book is the fact that it is written about, and from the point of view of, probably the most boring narrator ever. Chuck inspires no warmth or affection, no feelings of understanding, no desire to care or relate on any level. He is like the epitome of the self-obsessed male, a personification of the privileged straight young man whose world begins and ends with his opinion and the sound of his loud, loud voice drowning everyone else out.
Since I had no particular calling, having majored in lit, a discipline in which, I learned, anything goes, I did what I had to do: after dispatching some resumes on thick paper and making some phone calls, I secured interviews and then a job at a big bank that had just become bigger.
Oh ho hum, I DON’T CARE. It is the banality of the book that kills me. There is a degree of unremarkability (not a word, but I’m using this to honour the book’s ‘Let’s use big big words to impress people’ pretentiousness) about the whole proceedings that left me alternatively yawning or raising my eyes to the heavens in the hope that Allah would come and strike this book with a lightning bolt so I could stop reading it.
At the time we didn’t think that there was more to it than the mere sense of spectacle. We were content in celebrating ourselves and our city with libation. It was later that we realized that we’d been on common ground then, on terra firma. Later we also realized that we hadn’t been putting on some sort of show for others, for somebody else. No, we were protagonists in a narrative that required coherence for our own selfish motivations and exigencies.
And oh my god the words, the WORDS. Did I mention the complete-thesaurus regurgitation going on here? The characters don’t just speak out in protest, they fulminate. They don’t think, they ruminate. Conversing with Jimbo requires ‘hermeneutic feats’, AC delivers ‘some sort of disquisition’, and Chuck enters murky bathrooms to get high ‘tout seul’. By the third page, I had already looked up nine words in the dictionary. And this coming from the person who is the stand-in, walking talking dictionary for the rest of her family. Who is this book written for? Those who read dictionaries in their free time?
The sudden random references to Karachi places (Burns Road) or desi terms (chappati) are also jarring; the equivalent of an expatriate hurriedly and awkwardly using Urdu works among formal elders to reassure that they haven’t lost their desi roots. This book is the guy who flicks through a travel brochure to pick out the local-sounding names and throws them haphazardly together. It’s not familiar. It’s not comforting. You want to patronizingly pat the character’s head, while at the same time wincing because he has committed the social faux pas of pretending to know more Urdu than he actually does.
The recommendation:
Recommended for people who have travelled to New York/are studying for their GREs/wish to balance out the awesome books they’re reading with some mindless drivel. Maybe. Read at your own discretion. This reviewer takes no responsibility for the feeling of distaste or boredom that will eventually creep in.
*
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
February 17, 2012
The last line in HM Naqvi’s bio on his webpage says “He smokes Davidoffs”. This seems very strange, why would a writer in his 6 line bio would want to mention that? Is there an underground cult of people who smoke Davidoffs and he is sending a signal for high five to everyone in the group? Does the brand of cigarette you smoke define you? I am a Gold Flake person. I like to kill myself at five rupees fifty paisa per stick.
Home Boy is an unremarkable debut book. The characters, storyline and situations seem cut out from an automatic story generator algorithm. In fact the three characters are so banal they are almost similar to the three characters in Five point someone. Sample this: A very smart guy who knows it all but just doesn’t fit into the system. A sort of a rebel. Somebody you would love to smoke a joint with. Next, a guy who has some daddy issues, is the only one with a family in the city and is visibly the most sappy kind of guy in the gang. Third, the narrator, who is kind of middle of both worlds, falls in love with a girl who he should not have and in the end the relationship remains a bit open ended. Yessss, now sample this yawwnn from me.
The backdrop is the 9/11 attack and how it changed the life of peoples. New York is a place that absorbs you within itself. it doesn’t have a cosmopolitan society, rather everyone living in New York is a New Yorker. They party all night and wake up late. Go to party again and have sex. Then came Osama and everything changed. Now our protagonist understands that he is after all a second class citizen in USA because he is from Pakistan. He is taken into custody and charged with terrorism and beaten blue and black. Life is never same again. He returns back to Pakistan, but not before he understands the complex nature of human identity. Or at least tries to understand.
My problem with the book is just this - it just doesn’t tell me anything new, it is just a dull book. It is laced with cute looking lines and words. Like a dish which after preparation tasted so bland that the cook added chilly powder over it. These words and some situations are like “He smokes Davidoffs”, irrelevant and unnecessary.
Home Boy is an unremarkable debut book. The characters, storyline and situations seem cut out from an automatic story generator algorithm. In fact the three characters are so banal they are almost similar to the three characters in Five point someone. Sample this: A very smart guy who knows it all but just doesn’t fit into the system. A sort of a rebel. Somebody you would love to smoke a joint with. Next, a guy who has some daddy issues, is the only one with a family in the city and is visibly the most sappy kind of guy in the gang. Third, the narrator, who is kind of middle of both worlds, falls in love with a girl who he should not have and in the end the relationship remains a bit open ended. Yessss, now sample this yawwnn from me.
The backdrop is the 9/11 attack and how it changed the life of peoples. New York is a place that absorbs you within itself. it doesn’t have a cosmopolitan society, rather everyone living in New York is a New Yorker. They party all night and wake up late. Go to party again and have sex. Then came Osama and everything changed. Now our protagonist understands that he is after all a second class citizen in USA because he is from Pakistan. He is taken into custody and charged with terrorism and beaten blue and black. Life is never same again. He returns back to Pakistan, but not before he understands the complex nature of human identity. Or at least tries to understand.
My problem with the book is just this - it just doesn’t tell me anything new, it is just a dull book. It is laced with cute looking lines and words. Like a dish which after preparation tasted so bland that the cook added chilly powder over it. These words and some situations are like “He smokes Davidoffs”, irrelevant and unnecessary.
May 21, 2011
I was a teenager on 9/11. I didn't understand the politics of the problem, I didn't understand why or how such a thing could happen. What I did understand was that it was dangerous, not only for New Yorkers, but for people like me - 13-year-old Pakistani Muslim girls living in suburban Chicagoland. It meant that for months I wasn't allowed to ride the school bus and that people threw racial slurs at me for the first time in my life. And the class trip to DC? Out of the question. My situation was bad and I heard rumors of worse things that happened to older people. There were so many stories about imprisonment, attacks, profiling on highways and in airports; the list goes on. Although I have been hearing those stories for nearly 10 years, it wasn't until reading this book that I felt that I understood what those people underwent.
I would recommend this read to anyone, but particularly Americans. It made the Eastern and Western parts of my heart hurt, but in a constructive way. This book can join the ranks of many others that serve to demonstrate how quick judgments and fear-based reactions will never, ever lead to a solution.
I would recommend this read to anyone, but particularly Americans. It made the Eastern and Western parts of my heart hurt, but in a constructive way. This book can join the ranks of many others that serve to demonstrate how quick judgments and fear-based reactions will never, ever lead to a solution.
October 2, 2021
The book works best in it's entirety as a harsh coming to terms with a new world for three young Pakistani men in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11. Homeboy's question of identity steps from the very fundamental question - which is home? In an early chapter, Chuck aka Shahazad asserts his belonging to USA, the land of his dreams.
“You could spend 10 years in Britain and not feel British, but after spending 10 months in New York, you were a New Yorker, an original settler, and in no time you would be zipping uptown, downtown, crosstown, wherever, strutting, jaywalking, dispensing directions to tourists like a mandarin.”
The book almost feels like a falling in love with America story till Chuck and his 2 best friends AC aka Ali Chaudhary the maverick pot smoking philosopher and Jimbo the DJ get picked up by the FBI on suspicion days after the 9-11. In one of the best orchestrated chapters in the book, the President is addressing the nation on TV assuring the Muslims of the country are not the enemy while the three friends get arrested. The book then builds on the basic premise of when you get disowned, how do you come to terms with it.
Written in a "I am a cool dude with a literary degree and know big words" prose, the book is witty, funny, sad and meditative in parts. Initially I felt it a bit of a turn off - the almost gangster like prose, but then the book sobers up well and the contrast really works. Prejudice is real and could be anywhere - dealing with it is a person's circumstances and mental makeup.
One of his black friend summarizes it best
" It's not about glass ceilings and that kind of intangible shit. It's an everyday thing. You know I can't make quick body movements in public? My presence threatens people. When a big white guy moves quickly, people laugh, but when a big black guy moves quickly, they take cover"
Hard hitting and I think I loved it more for the intentional contrast it built in.
“You could spend 10 years in Britain and not feel British, but after spending 10 months in New York, you were a New Yorker, an original settler, and in no time you would be zipping uptown, downtown, crosstown, wherever, strutting, jaywalking, dispensing directions to tourists like a mandarin.”
The book almost feels like a falling in love with America story till Chuck and his 2 best friends AC aka Ali Chaudhary the maverick pot smoking philosopher and Jimbo the DJ get picked up by the FBI on suspicion days after the 9-11. In one of the best orchestrated chapters in the book, the President is addressing the nation on TV assuring the Muslims of the country are not the enemy while the three friends get arrested. The book then builds on the basic premise of when you get disowned, how do you come to terms with it.
Written in a "I am a cool dude with a literary degree and know big words" prose, the book is witty, funny, sad and meditative in parts. Initially I felt it a bit of a turn off - the almost gangster like prose, but then the book sobers up well and the contrast really works. Prejudice is real and could be anywhere - dealing with it is a person's circumstances and mental makeup.
One of his black friend summarizes it best
" It's not about glass ceilings and that kind of intangible shit. It's an everyday thing. You know I can't make quick body movements in public? My presence threatens people. When a big white guy moves quickly, people laugh, but when a big black guy moves quickly, they take cover"
Hard hitting and I think I loved it more for the intentional contrast it built in.
March 11, 2011
I HATED the first chapter of this book - I felt like author was trying to show off his literary genius with his big words and abrupt transitions. I hated the pretentious hipster narrator, and his band of clubbing friends. As the book progressed, either Naqvi laid off on the literary devices, or I got used to them, and the characters were molded into people I found much more likable - nice Pakistani boys trying to do right by their parents. By halfway through, I only mildly disliked the book, and by the end, I might almost say I liked it. The writing style was not for me, but I did like the overall themes of the book.
There was a passage about 4/5ths through about a Kebab shop that I loved - I felt like I was there with all five senses, from the smell of the steaming meat to the to the grimyness of the walls and tables. This was definitely the highlight of the book for me.
There was a passage about 4/5ths through about a Kebab shop that I loved - I felt like I was there with all five senses, from the smell of the steaming meat to the to the grimyness of the walls and tables. This was definitely the highlight of the book for me.
September 30, 2010
Did not enjoy the style of writing. Was a chore to finish. The story did not seem to be going anywhere either.
May 25, 2010
This is an appealing, smart, funny and sad book, told from the viewpoint of a Pakistani immigrant in New York City. The book follows three young (mid twenties) Pakistani friends, Chuck, AC and Jimbo, who embraced Metropolis for everything they could while indulging in the joys of girlfriends, as well as a little drugs and not-so-little alcohol.
The story is told through the eyes of Chuck, a student on a work visa who turned banker, turned cabbie.
The three friends' world turned upside-down after the events of 9/11/2001 when the city that they thought embraced them, turned hostile. At this time (about 100 pages into the novel) the book becomes very energetic and fast paced as it turns from a story filled with self absorption hedonism into a story about the coming of age in an unfriendly world.
This is one of those books which are disturbing and delightful at the same time, a view point on the events of 9/11 from the perspective of a young man who has been accused of being someone he's not simply out of the national paranoia that gripped the nation.
The book is filled with prose, funny, energetic and filled with local flavors.
The story is told through the eyes of Chuck, a student on a work visa who turned banker, turned cabbie.
The three friends' world turned upside-down after the events of 9/11/2001 when the city that they thought embraced them, turned hostile. At this time (about 100 pages into the novel) the book becomes very energetic and fast paced as it turns from a story filled with self absorption hedonism into a story about the coming of age in an unfriendly world.
This is one of those books which are disturbing and delightful at the same time, a view point on the events of 9/11 from the perspective of a young man who has been accused of being someone he's not simply out of the national paranoia that gripped the nation.
The book is filled with prose, funny, energetic and filled with local flavors.
December 10, 2012
You either get Naqvi and relate to the experiences that inspire the narrative or you don't. And if you don't, the loss is not that of the Author's.
'Home Boy' is not to be judged but to be assimilated, felt, and let be. I found it worth the read, loved the narrative and sublime use of a rather niche vernacular.
'Home Boy' is not to be judged but to be assimilated, felt, and let be. I found it worth the read, loved the narrative and sublime use of a rather niche vernacular.
February 6, 2019
"You find you are unsentimental about the bricolage that contributed to the infrastructure of your formative years."
Home Boy follows Chuck aka Shehzad, along with AC aka Ali Chaudhary and Jimbo aka Jamshed Khan in the aftermath of 9/11 attacks. The book, hackneyed as it is, seems like a poor imitation of Great Gatsby and I will discuss why.
Language-
1) The sentence construction itself is unnecessarily esoteric; each sentence is strewn with heavy words that feels like an attempt to improve the writing by constantly using the thesaurus.
2) The language spoken by the characters, where I feel the writer desired to establish an authetic "street credible lingo", rang false and jarring, as if it was somehow imposed upon the characters rather than how they actually spoke.
3) Language politics in terms of speaking English- I found it slightly offensive how the characters who couldn't talk well in English made similar mistakes, something that the protagonist imitates so that his ex-boss doesn't recognise him, even though he speaks proper, even good English.
Characters-
The characters were poorly sketched out, flat characters who had moments of profoundity. I felt the writer tried to make them as eccentric people who stand out but also fit into the eclectic fabric of the New York. However, I found them to be wholly superficial and two dimensional. Ali Chaudhary especially felt more prosaic, a dropped out PhD student who deliberately tried talking about profound things in order distinguish himself as superior. Jimbo again spoke a certain kind of lingo by virtue of being a DJ, which again I felt was something given to him, when DJs infact would not talk like that. Our protagonist, Chuck, the quentessential good son who comes to America to earn money and finishes college within 3 years instead of 4, feels like the exact replica of a good boy corrupted by America because of his company and what they indulge in.
Identity politics-
I feel that the writer used some token tropes of prejudice to establish someone as Muslim. Again, I feel there is a complete lack of what the Muslim experience was after the 9/11 attacks, and how the Muslim experience is predominantly defined by the Quran, the hijab, and eating kababs or a proper Pakistani meal. Again, I feel they've only been used as identity markers instead of creating in depth thinking human beings who were experiencing the unfolding of a tragic event and how because of following a certain faith, they suddenly found themselves across enemy lines in the US.
Structure and subject matter.
The structure of the book tried to establish a very simple cause and effect situation between the past and the present. Happy memories were written out right before a difficult task that the protagonist had to perform. In effect, while I was curious about what will now happen to the protagonist, I felt completely thrown off by the ruminations of memory, where the connections seemed rather flimsy and avoidable. The plot again is very predictable without much happening.
I feel that the subject matter is of serious importance, of showcasing the Muslim experience and xenophobia that suddenly ceased people. However, I felt that the subject was covered very superficially, with only instances being mentioned in passing. Even the major turning point seems very obvious.
The very few positives in the book for me were the description of the city which felt real, and the use of newspaper reports in a couple of places that made that situation more poignant. All in all I find the novel to be quite superficial.
Home Boy follows Chuck aka Shehzad, along with AC aka Ali Chaudhary and Jimbo aka Jamshed Khan in the aftermath of 9/11 attacks. The book, hackneyed as it is, seems like a poor imitation of Great Gatsby and I will discuss why.
Language-
1) The sentence construction itself is unnecessarily esoteric; each sentence is strewn with heavy words that feels like an attempt to improve the writing by constantly using the thesaurus.
2) The language spoken by the characters, where I feel the writer desired to establish an authetic "street credible lingo", rang false and jarring, as if it was somehow imposed upon the characters rather than how they actually spoke.
3) Language politics in terms of speaking English- I found it slightly offensive how the characters who couldn't talk well in English made similar mistakes, something that the protagonist imitates so that his ex-boss doesn't recognise him, even though he speaks proper, even good English.
Characters-
The characters were poorly sketched out, flat characters who had moments of profoundity. I felt the writer tried to make them as eccentric people who stand out but also fit into the eclectic fabric of the New York. However, I found them to be wholly superficial and two dimensional. Ali Chaudhary especially felt more prosaic, a dropped out PhD student who deliberately tried talking about profound things in order distinguish himself as superior. Jimbo again spoke a certain kind of lingo by virtue of being a DJ, which again I felt was something given to him, when DJs infact would not talk like that. Our protagonist, Chuck, the quentessential good son who comes to America to earn money and finishes college within 3 years instead of 4, feels like the exact replica of a good boy corrupted by America because of his company and what they indulge in.
Identity politics-
I feel that the writer used some token tropes of prejudice to establish someone as Muslim. Again, I feel there is a complete lack of what the Muslim experience was after the 9/11 attacks, and how the Muslim experience is predominantly defined by the Quran, the hijab, and eating kababs or a proper Pakistani meal. Again, I feel they've only been used as identity markers instead of creating in depth thinking human beings who were experiencing the unfolding of a tragic event and how because of following a certain faith, they suddenly found themselves across enemy lines in the US.
Structure and subject matter.
The structure of the book tried to establish a very simple cause and effect situation between the past and the present. Happy memories were written out right before a difficult task that the protagonist had to perform. In effect, while I was curious about what will now happen to the protagonist, I felt completely thrown off by the ruminations of memory, where the connections seemed rather flimsy and avoidable. The plot again is very predictable without much happening.
I feel that the subject matter is of serious importance, of showcasing the Muslim experience and xenophobia that suddenly ceased people. However, I felt that the subject was covered very superficially, with only instances being mentioned in passing. Even the major turning point seems very obvious.
The very few positives in the book for me were the description of the city which felt real, and the use of newspaper reports in a couple of places that made that situation more poignant. All in all I find the novel to be quite superficial.
May 6, 2024
made me want to go to Karachi again
January 11, 2026
Gnarly read as a guy living in New York and visiting Pakistan for the first time
October 6, 2017
For a novel set in New York post 9/11 for a Pakistani-American undergrad, I expected it to be a lot more interesting than it turned out to be.
June 25, 2014
A young Pakistani named Chuck has decided to come to New York City to attend college and pursue his dream of freedom and action in the United States. He begins his journey by getting help from his aunt, who already lives in America, and her brother, AC. AC immediately befriends Chuck and brings him into his group of Pakistani men living the high life in America in “Home Boy.”
Along with AC, Chuck meets Jimbo who is a deejay at the hippest underground clubs where they all hang out and get free drinks and all the women they can handle.
After Chuck graduates college, he gets a job on Wall Street as an investment banker, which allows him to send money back home to his mother frequently. Soon, the economy begins to go bad and Chuck loses his job and cannot find another. Through Pakistani connections in New York City, he eventually gets a cabbie license and with the help of an older Pakistani man, he becomes just another stereotype–a foreign can driver in New York City.
And then September 11, 2001 occurs.
One night after 9-11, Chuck is working and the fare he picks up is his old boss from Wall Street. The man is drunk and does not know where he wants to go. Chuck is planning on picking up Jimbo and AC after his shift to drive to their friend’s house in New Jersey, but since his former boss is passed out in his cab, he decides to take him along for the ride.
On the way to their friend’s, Chuck gets stopped by the police. What once wouldn’t have been much of a problem now is. Three Pakistani men in a car with one semi-conscious white man. After much questioning, Chuck is finally allowed to proceed. He decides to drop his boss off back in NYC, and then they head to their friend’s house, where no one is home.
The three men let themselves inside where they decide to wait for their friend to come home. After a few days Chuck decides he’s had enough and just as he begins to leave, the house is invaded by police, guns drawn. After a search of the house, the police decide Chuck and his friends are terrorists and must be detained.
When Chuck finally gets out of prison, by the mercy of an American who does not believe all Pakistanis are terrorists, he decides the world is not the same as it once was and he no longer wants to be an American. He calls his mother and asks if he can come back home.
Told in a stream-of-consciousness, not always clear manner, this is a story any modern day American is familiar with. However, it is told from the point of view that many of us are not familiar with, creating an empathetic, eye-opening tale.
Along with AC, Chuck meets Jimbo who is a deejay at the hippest underground clubs where they all hang out and get free drinks and all the women they can handle.
After Chuck graduates college, he gets a job on Wall Street as an investment banker, which allows him to send money back home to his mother frequently. Soon, the economy begins to go bad and Chuck loses his job and cannot find another. Through Pakistani connections in New York City, he eventually gets a cabbie license and with the help of an older Pakistani man, he becomes just another stereotype–a foreign can driver in New York City.
And then September 11, 2001 occurs.
One night after 9-11, Chuck is working and the fare he picks up is his old boss from Wall Street. The man is drunk and does not know where he wants to go. Chuck is planning on picking up Jimbo and AC after his shift to drive to their friend’s house in New Jersey, but since his former boss is passed out in his cab, he decides to take him along for the ride.
On the way to their friend’s, Chuck gets stopped by the police. What once wouldn’t have been much of a problem now is. Three Pakistani men in a car with one semi-conscious white man. After much questioning, Chuck is finally allowed to proceed. He decides to drop his boss off back in NYC, and then they head to their friend’s house, where no one is home.
The three men let themselves inside where they decide to wait for their friend to come home. After a few days Chuck decides he’s had enough and just as he begins to leave, the house is invaded by police, guns drawn. After a search of the house, the police decide Chuck and his friends are terrorists and must be detained.
When Chuck finally gets out of prison, by the mercy of an American who does not believe all Pakistanis are terrorists, he decides the world is not the same as it once was and he no longer wants to be an American. He calls his mother and asks if he can come back home.
Told in a stream-of-consciousness, not always clear manner, this is a story any modern day American is familiar with. However, it is told from the point of view that many of us are not familiar with, creating an empathetic, eye-opening tale.
June 8, 2013
Like a Pakistani Junot Diaz, H.M. Naqvi's HOME BOY bursts with poetry, philosophy, politics, history, culture, Urdu, Spanish, profanity, and endless rivers of nihari. It is ultimately the deeply personal journey of a band of brothers (or should I say Others?) who feel every bit "American" or "New Yorker" yet are suddenly confronted by the social and political backlash of post-9/11 prejudice. By painting a complex and deeply human portrait of Muslims in America who fail to "fit" the post-9/11 image in almost every way, Naqvi's emotionally and lyrically powerful novel toys skillfully with satire as the Pakistani protagonists, their government kidnappers/torturers, and society at large scratch their heads at the disparity between reality and stereotype. Naqvi may lack the distinct combination of nerd, spark, and natural cool which makes Diaz's stories crackle, and he may depict a cliche picture of New York City as an urban salon for inebriated street philosophers, but he makes his point with humor, passion, and voice. I'm still waiting to read a successful American novel with a practicing Muslim protagonist (as if those can't be characters or don't exist or are only "bad guys"...), but that doesn't detract from HOME BOY's brilliance. I look forward eagerly to his next novel.
February 23, 2010
A lyrical work of beauty and emotion. Naqvi takes us on a joyride through pre and post 9-11 Manhattan, that turns suddenly dark and political towards the end. The main character, a free-wheeling, hard partying, coke-snorting Pakistani immigrant who works in banking and in taxi driving, experiences Manhattan in a visceral and compelling way. Along with his two fellow Pakistani friends, they are immersed in a distinct subculture of young, rich or living rich young people of a melange of backgrounds. Having some exposure to Naqvi's very early writing, I miss some of his wildest, most lyrical poetic expressions, but even so, every few pages is a marvelously deft use of words. Occasionally, he reaches too far, and he also writes excessively about food, a tough trick to pull off well. What succeeds here, unexpectedly, is the characters themselves. Well worth a read by anyone, particularly those interested in immigrant life in 21st century NY, and the way in which the immigrant round up in the post 9-11 hysteria affected Muslims, even the most secularized.
October 6, 2011
Loved it. Blows your socks off. Really personal story of the Pakistani Muslim lead protagonist and his friends in New York after 9/11 happened, and the danger and suspicion in their lives because of it. Not only are their lives changed, but also of those who knew them or lived around them, and H.M. Naqvi's prose makes it startlingly and lucidly clear. He also has a really strong writing style, so the words convey strongly the mood he is trying to convey even as the story carries you along in its stride. The first part is ordinary, but as soon as they set off to look for their friend Shaman, the 'Pakistani Great Gatsby.' What follows is a stunningly written account of their lives in intricate detail, capturing the ordinary and terrifying experiences they live through.
The book won the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature in 2011, in case anyone was wondering about awards. Really amazing book.
The book won the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature in 2011, in case anyone was wondering about awards. Really amazing book.
November 5, 2009
I saw this described as a Three Musketeers-type adventure story. In this case it is 2001, and three Pakistani friends are living the life of the young and hip in New York City. They cavort and carouse and become part of the fabric of the city where an outsider can become an insider in a matter of weeks. On 9/11 they are just as outraged as anyone else, but afterwards, they are suddenly outsiders again.
They are characters with some depth, but they mostly want to have a good time. It is part romp, part social commentary. It is fairly light in tone, but very engaging, and frequently quite funny. It reminded me a little of Carl Hiaasen, but it is more serious in tone. It cast a different viewpoint on the immigrant experience.
They are characters with some depth, but they mostly want to have a good time. It is part romp, part social commentary. It is fairly light in tone, but very engaging, and frequently quite funny. It reminded me a little of Carl Hiaasen, but it is more serious in tone. It cast a different viewpoint on the immigrant experience.
December 2, 2022
i bought it from the readings book shop in lahore,pakistan for only 495 pakistani rupees.
i have read this book before but decided to read it again.
it is about three pakistani men living in new york city at the turn of the century.
one is ac known as ali chaudhry and chunk and jimbo.
there are details given about new york city and about how their lives change after that.
each person has their own 9/11 story to tell.
there are details given about home boy
it is about the lives about these three young men and about how they live away from their own country , pakistan.
some parts are very funny and it was a short read though.
and then in the end they are accused of being terrorists and then the novel ends.
actually the author of this book is my friend and i am in touch with him.
i have read this book before but decided to read it again.
it is about three pakistani men living in new york city at the turn of the century.
one is ac known as ali chaudhry and chunk and jimbo.
there are details given about new york city and about how their lives change after that.
each person has their own 9/11 story to tell.
there are details given about home boy
it is about the lives about these three young men and about how they live away from their own country , pakistan.
some parts are very funny and it was a short read though.
and then in the end they are accused of being terrorists and then the novel ends.
actually the author of this book is my friend and i am in touch with him.
December 8, 2015
So yes, I did feel gagged on the author's pompous, bombastic language in the first few pages. The plot is simple: three friends get into trouble as an aftermath following 9/11. That is where I felt and was glad to realise that the story was beginning to find its way. Stories that describe how Pakistani boys adorn the louche character while living the high-life in the big cities put me off mostly; but not enough to make me throw the book away. I was glad to have completed the book but was a tad blue about how the story took unimpressive turns as it unfolded itself. Its an okay read.
April 1, 2010
I'm often unsympathetic to hipsterish self-absorbed protagonists, but this one was excellent in voice and character progression. I really enjoyed the read. The language was great. It's not this year's Oscar Wao, but it's enough to keep me happy.
January 24, 2020
A well written story about the shattering of the American dream.
November 8, 2009
Good in flashes, but there was an underlying superficiality that bugged.
April 15, 2025
I found Home Boy so endlessly seductive, and such an interesting portrayal of both New York and the range within a single Pakistani diaspora. I really like how the social ecosystem of the book is composed of three men from different backgrounds in their Pakistani-ness and foreignness, and their touching upon many other types of Pakistani immigrants, from the taxi driver to Jumbo's sister and dad, and AC's sister. The pularism is great. I love how all the club and bar scenes are penned down—so very sexy.
I was particularly enamoured by the idea of escape that is explicitly introduced at the beginning of chapter 17. Our narrator says: "When you think about it, the peculiarly American trope of escape has informed narratives spanning the western to road comedy, from Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid to Thelma and Louise. It puts the old literary archetype, whether Mesopotamian or Greek, starring that old British knight or the legendary Omani sailor, on its head. The protagonists, often paired, are not in pursuit of golden fleeces or holy grails, like the heroes of yore, but are pursued, usually by the long arm of the law." Here, I think I want to consider the idea of pursuit itself and running to and from—once, a professor told me that when changing or moving from one to another, escaping discomfort/negativity is a bigger motivator than seeking comfort/positivity. I wonder how much these ideas hold true.
I found it very interesting that Chuck, our narrator chose to become a cab driver. I have a friend who is going through a divorce right now, also a Pakistani immigrant, who wants to now leave her job (or is sort of leaving it due to martial issues) and wants to be a grocery store clerk. Pursuit is intrinsically linked to escape, and the pursuit can very well just be of the change or the journey itself. If this is the case, then the escape and pursuit become one and the same, in a very very interesting example of fana'a.
The ending, I found so very apt. Chuck calling his mom and wanting to go back home to Karachi; Mo being actually have killed in 9/11 (while ironically his three Pakistani friends got picked up by security forces on terrorist charges from his house). There is a very strong idea of circularity. Going back to Karachi feels like an escape itself, and reminds me of how distance and yearning for newness functions—how newness blooms from oldness itself, and keeps this wheel of pursuit and escape going, going, going, until we reach the end of our lives.
I was particularly enamoured by the idea of escape that is explicitly introduced at the beginning of chapter 17. Our narrator says: "When you think about it, the peculiarly American trope of escape has informed narratives spanning the western to road comedy, from Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid to Thelma and Louise. It puts the old literary archetype, whether Mesopotamian or Greek, starring that old British knight or the legendary Omani sailor, on its head. The protagonists, often paired, are not in pursuit of golden fleeces or holy grails, like the heroes of yore, but are pursued, usually by the long arm of the law." Here, I think I want to consider the idea of pursuit itself and running to and from—once, a professor told me that when changing or moving from one to another, escaping discomfort/negativity is a bigger motivator than seeking comfort/positivity. I wonder how much these ideas hold true.
I found it very interesting that Chuck, our narrator chose to become a cab driver. I have a friend who is going through a divorce right now, also a Pakistani immigrant, who wants to now leave her job (or is sort of leaving it due to martial issues) and wants to be a grocery store clerk. Pursuit is intrinsically linked to escape, and the pursuit can very well just be of the change or the journey itself. If this is the case, then the escape and pursuit become one and the same, in a very very interesting example of fana'a.
The ending, I found so very apt. Chuck calling his mom and wanting to go back home to Karachi; Mo being actually have killed in 9/11 (while ironically his three Pakistani friends got picked up by security forces on terrorist charges from his house). There is a very strong idea of circularity. Going back to Karachi feels like an escape itself, and reminds me of how distance and yearning for newness functions—how newness blooms from oldness itself, and keeps this wheel of pursuit and escape going, going, going, until we reach the end of our lives.
September 23, 2018
One of the reviews on the back of this book declared it to have the 'instinct of a slam poet'. I can honestly say that this sentiment has it right on the money. I watch a lot of slam poetry and the style of prose of this book and the way it conveys its message - and, indeed, the message conveyed itself - is not unfamiliar in that way.
I would divide the plot of Home Boy into three parts: the set-up/backstory, the Event, the fallout. The first part lasts for around 100 pages and is very difficult to read. It is slow and not much actually happens, and for me this was a chore to read. The Event is undoubtedly the most exciting and engaging part of the plot. Not only is it where the most seems to actually happen, but it is where the message of the book is most clearly conveyed. If any part of this book showed a slam poet's instinct, it is this second part. During the third part, I often found myself wondering how these new developments were related to the second part. Occasionally, flashes of clarity would reveal the links being made to previous events of the novel, but in between these flashes lies little more than confusion and the slowness present in the first part.
That being said, I would recommend this book purely on the strengths of the Event - not just because of the events of the plot itself, but for the clever ways in which these events are relayed to the reader.
On the whole, I would not read this book again, but I am glad that I have read it once.
I would divide the plot of Home Boy into three parts: the set-up/backstory, the Event, the fallout. The first part lasts for around 100 pages and is very difficult to read. It is slow and not much actually happens, and for me this was a chore to read. The Event is undoubtedly the most exciting and engaging part of the plot. Not only is it where the most seems to actually happen, but it is where the message of the book is most clearly conveyed. If any part of this book showed a slam poet's instinct, it is this second part. During the third part, I often found myself wondering how these new developments were related to the second part. Occasionally, flashes of clarity would reveal the links being made to previous events of the novel, but in between these flashes lies little more than confusion and the slowness present in the first part.
That being said, I would recommend this book purely on the strengths of the Event - not just because of the events of the plot itself, but for the clever ways in which these events are relayed to the reader.
On the whole, I would not read this book again, but I am glad that I have read it once.
December 16, 2019
The purpose of language has always been to communicate and express oneself. As words have meanings and carry connotation, they should always be well picked. Literature has the capacity and space where people can feel and understand each other without witnessing those things first hand.
.
H.M.Naqvi's Home Boy is written in an extremely pompous language where it is difficult to understand a single word without keeping a dictionary or chrome by your side.
Anyhow, it is a story of three Paksitani boys, residing in USA, trying to find a life by their talent and making that place their own. They enjoy the environment which America offers to every person but their life is altered when they went out on a road trip to another city to search for their friend, Shaman (Mohammad Shah). They find themselves in a trouble and realized that they are in a different and politically and radically charged America post 9/11 incident.
.
This novel will showcase that being a Muslim and Pakistani can be enough to be detained punished and tortured.
.
H.M.Naqvi brings you a new perspective of the same story witnessed by so many people around the world in America.
.
H.M.Naqvi's Home Boy is written in an extremely pompous language where it is difficult to understand a single word without keeping a dictionary or chrome by your side.
Anyhow, it is a story of three Paksitani boys, residing in USA, trying to find a life by their talent and making that place their own. They enjoy the environment which America offers to every person but their life is altered when they went out on a road trip to another city to search for their friend, Shaman (Mohammad Shah). They find themselves in a trouble and realized that they are in a different and politically and radically charged America post 9/11 incident.
.
This novel will showcase that being a Muslim and Pakistani can be enough to be detained punished and tortured.
.
H.M.Naqvi brings you a new perspective of the same story witnessed by so many people around the world in America.
November 9, 2025
I picked up this book when I was in Islamabad few weeks ago and was all by myself with a day to spare for my flight back home. I found it nestled in a corner in Saeed’s Book Bank in F7. This one caught my attention because it appeared to be a story of a Pakistani expat. And it really is about it. I can understand the criticism about the heavy words and phrases used. I can also understand the criticism people have over the plot or rhythm of the story. But for me, the book captures the life of an expat very accurately. One day you’re on top of the world, in a high rise building and within weeks you find yourself worrying about finding a job before your visa ends. The realization of the uncertainty in the life of an expat is captured so beautifully. And in the end, Shehzad follows his heart to head back home. The ending is bittersweet. I really enjoyed reading this one.
November 7, 2022
This book was just ok. By the end, I liked it and found it interesting enough to keep going but the beginning was really boring and a turn off. It seemed like the author was using big, unusual words just for the sake of showing off; the vocabulary didn’t really add anything to the experience of the story. In the end it was a really simple story but so slow to start and so clunky that I almost stopped reading several times.
In the end I liked it and I think it would have made a good movie, like one of those movies where there’s a narrator describing a transformational time in his life, but I probably wouldn’t recommend it or read it again.
In the end I liked it and I think it would have made a good movie, like one of those movies where there’s a narrator describing a transformational time in his life, but I probably wouldn’t recommend it or read it again.
April 1, 2022
In this book, H.M. Naqvi tells a story of young men who travel after 9/11, in search of someone. On their road trip, someone with them disappears and is nowhere to be found. This caused many problems for the men, especially after the twin towers had just been attacked. I did not really like this book personally. It goes into depth about what it was like for the Pakistanian men and there are some really uncomfortable and questionable moments. In the first chunk of this book too, the author seems a bit pretentious with his word choices and it didn't come off that well.
January 21, 2022
2.5/5 stars. I don’t really know how feel about this one. It left me feeling pretty unfulfilled. Like I miss AC and I wonder what’s gonna happen to him now. I mean obvi he’s in jail for 15 years but I wanna know what happens in the future. What about Chuck’s job? What about Jimbo and Khan Sahab and Amo?? There’s just so much I don’t know. Ig that’s the appeal of this. By the time u finish it u realise that u know even less than when u started it :/ Definitely pretty unique tho.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 1, 2017
Picked it up because Harper Collins called it one of their 25 most iconic books. Still trying to figure that out.
Uninteresting characters are hyped up, the language is super pretentious (read the back-cover blurb) and I didn't end up rooting for any of the characters. A novel that just seemed to be revelling in its own 'smartness'.
Uninteresting characters are hyped up, the language is super pretentious (read the back-cover blurb) and I didn't end up rooting for any of the characters. A novel that just seemed to be revelling in its own 'smartness'.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 74 reviews