What do you think?
Rate this book
Dream City: A Novel
In this unconventional tale of Las Vegas during the two delirious boom decades before the bust of the Great Recession, failed actor “C. D.” Reinhart, who has launched a new career in hotel marketing, is gradually losing his moral and existential compass. Working on The Strip during an era when Sin City’s population growth was outpacing any other place in America, C. D. climbs the industry ladder while modeling himself after a Pyramid Resorts top executive, Lance Sheperd. C. D.’s professional choices lead him down a tumultuous road, as Sheperd, a complex and, at times, visionary figure, pilots his ventures through the tangled wheeling and dealing of finance and corporate politics straight into catastrophe.
As the story progresses, C. D. comes to understand how his personal losses and the losses of his cohort of hard driving executives on the make—especially the tragic life of his work partner, Greta Olsson, the only woman to break through into their male dominated world—are a result of the make-believe environment he has helped to create, a world where representation replaces reality. Hoping to piece together his faltering marriage and family relationships, C. D. must find a new path as he struggles to hold onto his dreams.
In this fictionalized version of the city of glittering lights, author Douglas Unger pits the ideologies of marketing and consumerism in the casino economy of America against the erosion of individual and humane values that success in that world demands. Unger reveals the hard truth that Las Vegas, a blue-collar town considered by many to be “the most honest city,” can be a temple for self-deceptions, emblematic of a service economy that knows the price of everything and too often the value of little else. Dream City becomes both a love song and an elegy for Las Vegas that sets it apart from any other literary novel previously written about this global entertainment attraction that in so many ways represents postmodern America. Sooner or later, the challenge that faces everyone is to discover what matters most, and to learn how to bet on the better angels of our natures.
As the story progresses, C. D. comes to understand how his personal losses and the losses of his cohort of hard driving executives on the make—especially the tragic life of his work partner, Greta Olsson, the only woman to break through into their male dominated world—are a result of the make-believe environment he has helped to create, a world where representation replaces reality. Hoping to piece together his faltering marriage and family relationships, C. D. must find a new path as he struggles to hold onto his dreams.
In this fictionalized version of the city of glittering lights, author Douglas Unger pits the ideologies of marketing and consumerism in the casino economy of America against the erosion of individual and humane values that success in that world demands. Unger reveals the hard truth that Las Vegas, a blue-collar town considered by many to be “the most honest city,” can be a temple for self-deceptions, emblematic of a service economy that knows the price of everything and too often the value of little else. Dream City becomes both a love song and an elegy for Las Vegas that sets it apart from any other literary novel previously written about this global entertainment attraction that in so many ways represents postmodern America. Sooner or later, the challenge that faces everyone is to discover what matters most, and to learn how to bet on the better angels of our natures.
- GenresFiction
356 pages, Hardcover
Published October 8, 2024
5 people are currently reading
48 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
August 22, 2024
University of Nevada Press provided an early galley for review.
I've never been to Vegas but have always wanted to go. The cover and description of this novel sounded intriguing.
The Pyramid World hotel setting appears to be meant as a stand-in for the real-life Luxor hotel, with the story line of the construction to mirror that of the actual hotel in the early 90's. Unger, a professor of English at the University of Nevada - Las Vegas, clearly is drawing from a city he knows as he sprinkles in plenty of real Vegas locals - other hotels, restaurants, etc. - into the narrative. The details about all things casinos and gamblers also ring true.
I'm a bit on the fence with this one though. At times, it reads a lot more like a nonfiction historical book rather than a fiction novel. Not being familiar with the author (his last fiction book looks to have been from 1995), I am not sure if this is part of his writing style or just the approach taken for this particular release. The narrative arc spans over several decades for the main characters, thus it lacks the urgency I usually gravitate towards in stories. When we do get an in-depth scene with lots of character dialogue and interaction, I was definitely tuned in though.
Reader mileage might vary here.
I've never been to Vegas but have always wanted to go. The cover and description of this novel sounded intriguing.
The Pyramid World hotel setting appears to be meant as a stand-in for the real-life Luxor hotel, with the story line of the construction to mirror that of the actual hotel in the early 90's. Unger, a professor of English at the University of Nevada - Las Vegas, clearly is drawing from a city he knows as he sprinkles in plenty of real Vegas locals - other hotels, restaurants, etc. - into the narrative. The details about all things casinos and gamblers also ring true.
I'm a bit on the fence with this one though. At times, it reads a lot more like a nonfiction historical book rather than a fiction novel. Not being familiar with the author (his last fiction book looks to have been from 1995), I am not sure if this is part of his writing style or just the approach taken for this particular release. The narrative arc spans over several decades for the main characters, thus it lacks the urgency I usually gravitate towards in stories. When we do get an in-depth scene with lots of character dialogue and interaction, I was definitely tuned in though.
Reader mileage might vary here.
December 30, 2024
Everything about this book felt authentic and real. As a native Las Vegan, the details were correct, the plot points tracked with real-life and it was fun to connect the imagined world with their real-life counterparts. The imagery of pyramids, risky arts markets and the precarity of real-estate boom and bust cycles all enhanced the story.
December 2, 2024
Rating: 4* of five
The Publisher Says: In this unconventional tale of Las Vegas during the two delirious boom decades before the bust of the Great Recession, failed actor “C. D.” Reinhart, who has launched a new career in hotel marketing, is gradually losing his moral and existential compass. Working on The Strip during an era when Sin City’s population growth was outpacing any other place in America, C. D. climbs the industry ladder while modeling himself after a Pyramid Resorts top executive, Lance Sheperd. C. D.’s professional choices lead him down a tumultuous road, as Sheperd, a complex and, at times, visionary figure, pilots his ventures through the tangled wheeling and dealing of finance and corporate politics straight into catastrophe.
As the story progresses, C. D. comes to understand how his personal losses and the losses of his cohort of hard driving executives on the make—especially the tragic life of his work partner, Greta Olsson, the only woman to break through into their male dominated world—are a result of the make-believe environment he has helped to create, a world where representation replaces reality. Hoping to piece together his faltering marriage and family relationships, C. D. must find a new path as he struggles to hold onto his dreams.
In this fictionalized version of the city of glittering lights, author Douglas Unger pits the ideologies of marketing and consumerism in the casino economy of America against the erosion of individual and humane values that success in that world demands. Unger reveals the hard truth that Las Vegas, a blue-collar town considered by many to be “the most honest city,” can be a temple for self-deceptions, emblematic of a service economy that knows the price of everything and too often the value of little else. Dream City becomes both a love song and an elegy for Las Vegas that sets it apart from any other literary novel previously written about this global entertainment attraction that in so many ways represents postmodern America. Sooner or later, the challenge that faces everyone is to discover what matters most, and to learn how to bet on the better angels of our natures.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: Deserts frighten me. I live in a beach town for a reason. My trips to Las Vegas weren't numerous, but are very memorable—for good and ill. Here's a story, then, that's set in a place I do not love or admire, featuring a man in Act Three of his life having failed at his other lives, and failing again.
Paging Updike and Cheever, your territory's being encroached.
And most effectively. Author Unger is working in a long tradition of male-centered stories, prioritizing an idea of success that capitalism likes to valorize and that relegates anything other than work to peripheral significance...only to flip the script and show the hollowness and lack of fulfillment and connection inherent in this cultutally approved rat race.
Critiques are most effective when they come from within. This detailed, almost obsessive, chronicling of one man's descent from the pinnacle he dreamed of reaching into the real-world uses of the talents he never had the luck to exploit to their fullest, is inside the house. The astonishing world of wealth is detailed, excess by excess, without a trace of overt judgment. Like the eternal anticapitalist novel Babbitt, it uses a steady unblinking gaze to do what polemics fail to do: Indict the system that rewards conformist capitulation with material comforts. The problem with this reward system is, and always has been, it is conditional. It can all be taken away from the recipient at any time, either through anonymous "market forces" or malevolent, targeted manipulations of law and economics.
In personalizing the details of one man, in one city, as he rises and falls, Author Unger joins the crew of midcentury modern men in quietly unpicking the system's built-in failures. He uses the main man's wife as a sort of moral Cassandra, constantly questioning—while continuing to enjoy—the fruits of his enviable rise from the ashes of ruined ambition. It's here that I lost a star. Women as Moral Centers, however compromised, irk the snot out of me. Like she condescended to hitch herself to this sad, lost little boy (who's given her a life of comfort) to Guide and Sustain him...gross. She's complicit, she's also culpable for not doing it her damnself. The trope of the little woman who stays home is really the relams of fantasy in this day and time. It's unusual enough that it's now fodder for highly-rated prurient TV shows about the wealthiest capitalists in the hypercapitalist world we exist in.
Why I recommend it to you is simple: Updike, Cheever, Sloan Wilson, and company are dreadfully old-fashioned. Their row still needs hoeing in the world we live in. Author Unger is uniquely placed to tell this generation about its golden calfs. Seen in this light even the repugnant gender politics are a sharp critique of the aspirations that Las Vegas, glittering gambling capital, represents.
Castles built in the air always fall. Gravity, it pays every one of us to foreground in our awareness, is a law that can not be repealed. Flouting it temporarily carries costs that accrue terrible interest surcharges.
Author Unger, without beating you up, reminds you of this.
The Publisher Says: In this unconventional tale of Las Vegas during the two delirious boom decades before the bust of the Great Recession, failed actor “C. D.” Reinhart, who has launched a new career in hotel marketing, is gradually losing his moral and existential compass. Working on The Strip during an era when Sin City’s population growth was outpacing any other place in America, C. D. climbs the industry ladder while modeling himself after a Pyramid Resorts top executive, Lance Sheperd. C. D.’s professional choices lead him down a tumultuous road, as Sheperd, a complex and, at times, visionary figure, pilots his ventures through the tangled wheeling and dealing of finance and corporate politics straight into catastrophe.
As the story progresses, C. D. comes to understand how his personal losses and the losses of his cohort of hard driving executives on the make—especially the tragic life of his work partner, Greta Olsson, the only woman to break through into their male dominated world—are a result of the make-believe environment he has helped to create, a world where representation replaces reality. Hoping to piece together his faltering marriage and family relationships, C. D. must find a new path as he struggles to hold onto his dreams.
In this fictionalized version of the city of glittering lights, author Douglas Unger pits the ideologies of marketing and consumerism in the casino economy of America against the erosion of individual and humane values that success in that world demands. Unger reveals the hard truth that Las Vegas, a blue-collar town considered by many to be “the most honest city,” can be a temple for self-deceptions, emblematic of a service economy that knows the price of everything and too often the value of little else. Dream City becomes both a love song and an elegy for Las Vegas that sets it apart from any other literary novel previously written about this global entertainment attraction that in so many ways represents postmodern America. Sooner or later, the challenge that faces everyone is to discover what matters most, and to learn how to bet on the better angels of our natures.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: Deserts frighten me. I live in a beach town for a reason. My trips to Las Vegas weren't numerous, but are very memorable—for good and ill. Here's a story, then, that's set in a place I do not love or admire, featuring a man in Act Three of his life having failed at his other lives, and failing again.
Paging Updike and Cheever, your territory's being encroached.
And most effectively. Author Unger is working in a long tradition of male-centered stories, prioritizing an idea of success that capitalism likes to valorize and that relegates anything other than work to peripheral significance...only to flip the script and show the hollowness and lack of fulfillment and connection inherent in this cultutally approved rat race.
Critiques are most effective when they come from within. This detailed, almost obsessive, chronicling of one man's descent from the pinnacle he dreamed of reaching into the real-world uses of the talents he never had the luck to exploit to their fullest, is inside the house. The astonishing world of wealth is detailed, excess by excess, without a trace of overt judgment. Like the eternal anticapitalist novel Babbitt, it uses a steady unblinking gaze to do what polemics fail to do: Indict the system that rewards conformist capitulation with material comforts. The problem with this reward system is, and always has been, it is conditional. It can all be taken away from the recipient at any time, either through anonymous "market forces" or malevolent, targeted manipulations of law and economics.
In personalizing the details of one man, in one city, as he rises and falls, Author Unger joins the crew of midcentury modern men in quietly unpicking the system's built-in failures. He uses the main man's wife as a sort of moral Cassandra, constantly questioning—while continuing to enjoy—the fruits of his enviable rise from the ashes of ruined ambition. It's here that I lost a star. Women as Moral Centers, however compromised, irk the snot out of me. Like she condescended to hitch herself to this sad, lost little boy (who's given her a life of comfort) to Guide and Sustain him...gross. She's complicit, she's also culpable for not doing it her damnself. The trope of the little woman who stays home is really the relams of fantasy in this day and time. It's unusual enough that it's now fodder for highly-rated prurient TV shows about the wealthiest capitalists in the hypercapitalist world we exist in.
Why I recommend it to you is simple: Updike, Cheever, Sloan Wilson, and company are dreadfully old-fashioned. Their row still needs hoeing in the world we live in. Author Unger is uniquely placed to tell this generation about its golden calfs. Seen in this light even the repugnant gender politics are a sharp critique of the aspirations that Las Vegas, glittering gambling capital, represents.
Castles built in the air always fall. Gravity, it pays every one of us to foreground in our awareness, is a law that can not be repealed. Flouting it temporarily carries costs that accrue terrible interest surcharges.
Author Unger, without beating you up, reminds you of this.
October 8, 2024
This important book’s huge heart beats to the rhythm of the minutest of details. If you skim those details, you’ve missed the novel’s purpose. Unger’s hyper-description of things, of commodities, witnesses the trajectory of a civilization and therefore serves as a document relevant for as long as capitalism lasts.
False predictions of capitalism’s fall are replete in academia and in the world of activism. Unger avoids this predicament by remaining inside capitalism’s essential processes. Instead of prognosis and prediction, Unger deploys a strategy of hyper-description of commodities that surround his narrative, and which motivate his characters. As Unger tells the story of the rise and fall, the boom and bust of Las Vegas casinos, he never misses a chance to name the commodities: from the brand of the shoes, suits, and ties worn by middle and high level functionaries to the architecture of the houses they populate; the types of granite countertops, the sheen and depth of the refrigerators, the smell of the baby-doe leather in the living rooms to the precise number of pixels of the television screens and the colors, shapes, and artists of the paintings and sculptures in each living room. He names the restaurants and their food and wines, the spas and their services, the gyms and their machines, the cars, watches, earrings, and scarfs.
We might misread this fixation as the kind of envy that is evident, for example, in the book Richistan: A Journey Through the American Wealth Boom and the Lives of the New Rich, where the author, Robert Frank, reveals his love for yacht accumulating billionaires. Rather, Unger’s descriptions serve two purposes: to have us marvel at the sheer display of abundance and to suggest that we readers might also crave these commodities for their utility, the envy they generate, and the social rank they announce. Unger’s prose charges these commodities neither negatively nor positively. Rather his neutrality invokes the cultural logic behind the glitter.
To me, the most important character is not the protagonist, C.D. Reinhart -- a failed actor whose second life is the “vice-president” who attracts venture capital with his good looks, charm, and an ear for a good pitch. Instead, it is his wife, Grace. As the two of them rise in a world where it is de rigor to purchase art as an investment, plan exotic vacations, and eat every meal at fancy restaurants,Grace tries to keep them grounded. She suggests repeatedly that relationships are the only lasting wealth, even as she herself is seduced by the inner shine of commodities. In Grace, a humanized political economy gasps its last breaths.
Unger reaches for more than the rise and fall of Las Vegas even as he tells this story with meticulous ethnographic specificity. He reaches for more than the rise and fall of Grace, C.D, and C.D.'s colleagues -- a story he tells with loving compassion for all his characters. More so, it is the place of greed that becomes the ultimate question for Unger, as it was for Adam Smith and his Scottish Enlightenment collaborators. Where do we find a safe haven when greed is unleashed as a global social experiment to create massive wealth? What rights remain to those who fail life’s competitions? What do humans still warrant after they are branded as losers?
In a short and powerful chapter, C.D.’s elder brother, a math whiz, visits him in Las Vegas. He insists that C.D. join him at blackjack in the casino – the game with the best odds for a gambler. He wants to show C.D. that you can beat the house with the right strategy. C.D. humors his brother even as he knows from years of working in the industry that the house always wins. He loses hundreds, his brother loses thousands. ‘The house always wins’ (and the gambler always loses) is a structural condition. An iron rule.
Unger compares casinos and capitalism: while casinos easily distinguish between the “house” and the “gamblers,” in capitalism there are three categories: the house that always wins, the gambler marked by occasional luck and its prevalent absence, and the middlemen who work for the house but end up as their true marks. Unger’s novel focuses on this third category. If the “Iron Rule,” Unger seems to ask, has little chance of being seen by those who work inside the gambling industry, then what hope of clarity can there be for the rest of us?
Dream City is novel concerned with the difference in the quality of hope between those like C.D. who wish to redeem their crushed dreams by betting their lives on an elusive future hope and those like Grace whose believe that the nitty-gritty of human relationships can still transcend the alchemy of greed.
This is a great book of big ideas about political economy enclosed in the minutest of details. I can draw a line from Charles Dickens, Upton Sinclair, Naguib Mahfouz (e.g., The Beginning and the End), to Douglas Unger.
Here is one of my many favorite quotes from Dream City:
Years later, after nearly two decades in the industry, during the first wave of the Great Recession that crashed the tourist industry and drove almost every Las Vegas resort casino into receivership, C.D. began to think about gambling differently, not as death wishing, or “happy to lose,” as Kirby had put it, but as something else – in the end, for most people, gambling was a reach for improbable hope. People who exist with the stark certainty that their finances will never be enough to raise them above their ever-lowering expectations place risky bets so they can experience, however briefly, the luxury of hope. With so little left to lose, any day they win, that’s a banner day; and the days they lose, as they most often do, well, that’s really all the same. And while playing, that’s oblivion, no need to think about whatever else is going on – all attention is focused on the game, for as long as it lasts, for a good long while, or so they hope. (Last para of section 5 on Part II, pp. 120)
False predictions of capitalism’s fall are replete in academia and in the world of activism. Unger avoids this predicament by remaining inside capitalism’s essential processes. Instead of prognosis and prediction, Unger deploys a strategy of hyper-description of commodities that surround his narrative, and which motivate his characters. As Unger tells the story of the rise and fall, the boom and bust of Las Vegas casinos, he never misses a chance to name the commodities: from the brand of the shoes, suits, and ties worn by middle and high level functionaries to the architecture of the houses they populate; the types of granite countertops, the sheen and depth of the refrigerators, the smell of the baby-doe leather in the living rooms to the precise number of pixels of the television screens and the colors, shapes, and artists of the paintings and sculptures in each living room. He names the restaurants and their food and wines, the spas and their services, the gyms and their machines, the cars, watches, earrings, and scarfs.
We might misread this fixation as the kind of envy that is evident, for example, in the book Richistan: A Journey Through the American Wealth Boom and the Lives of the New Rich, where the author, Robert Frank, reveals his love for yacht accumulating billionaires. Rather, Unger’s descriptions serve two purposes: to have us marvel at the sheer display of abundance and to suggest that we readers might also crave these commodities for their utility, the envy they generate, and the social rank they announce. Unger’s prose charges these commodities neither negatively nor positively. Rather his neutrality invokes the cultural logic behind the glitter.
To me, the most important character is not the protagonist, C.D. Reinhart -- a failed actor whose second life is the “vice-president” who attracts venture capital with his good looks, charm, and an ear for a good pitch. Instead, it is his wife, Grace. As the two of them rise in a world where it is de rigor to purchase art as an investment, plan exotic vacations, and eat every meal at fancy restaurants,Grace tries to keep them grounded. She suggests repeatedly that relationships are the only lasting wealth, even as she herself is seduced by the inner shine of commodities. In Grace, a humanized political economy gasps its last breaths.
Unger reaches for more than the rise and fall of Las Vegas even as he tells this story with meticulous ethnographic specificity. He reaches for more than the rise and fall of Grace, C.D, and C.D.'s colleagues -- a story he tells with loving compassion for all his characters. More so, it is the place of greed that becomes the ultimate question for Unger, as it was for Adam Smith and his Scottish Enlightenment collaborators. Where do we find a safe haven when greed is unleashed as a global social experiment to create massive wealth? What rights remain to those who fail life’s competitions? What do humans still warrant after they are branded as losers?
In a short and powerful chapter, C.D.’s elder brother, a math whiz, visits him in Las Vegas. He insists that C.D. join him at blackjack in the casino – the game with the best odds for a gambler. He wants to show C.D. that you can beat the house with the right strategy. C.D. humors his brother even as he knows from years of working in the industry that the house always wins. He loses hundreds, his brother loses thousands. ‘The house always wins’ (and the gambler always loses) is a structural condition. An iron rule.
Unger compares casinos and capitalism: while casinos easily distinguish between the “house” and the “gamblers,” in capitalism there are three categories: the house that always wins, the gambler marked by occasional luck and its prevalent absence, and the middlemen who work for the house but end up as their true marks. Unger’s novel focuses on this third category. If the “Iron Rule,” Unger seems to ask, has little chance of being seen by those who work inside the gambling industry, then what hope of clarity can there be for the rest of us?
Dream City is novel concerned with the difference in the quality of hope between those like C.D. who wish to redeem their crushed dreams by betting their lives on an elusive future hope and those like Grace whose believe that the nitty-gritty of human relationships can still transcend the alchemy of greed.
This is a great book of big ideas about political economy enclosed in the minutest of details. I can draw a line from Charles Dickens, Upton Sinclair, Naguib Mahfouz (e.g., The Beginning and the End), to Douglas Unger.
Here is one of my many favorite quotes from Dream City:
Years later, after nearly two decades in the industry, during the first wave of the Great Recession that crashed the tourist industry and drove almost every Las Vegas resort casino into receivership, C.D. began to think about gambling differently, not as death wishing, or “happy to lose,” as Kirby had put it, but as something else – in the end, for most people, gambling was a reach for improbable hope. People who exist with the stark certainty that their finances will never be enough to raise them above their ever-lowering expectations place risky bets so they can experience, however briefly, the luxury of hope. With so little left to lose, any day they win, that’s a banner day; and the days they lose, as they most often do, well, that’s really all the same. And while playing, that’s oblivion, no need to think about whatever else is going on – all attention is focused on the game, for as long as it lasts, for a good long while, or so they hope. (Last para of section 5 on Part II, pp. 120)
April 10, 2026
Dream City: A Novel reads like a real life memoir. The story of "C.D. Reinhart" and his rise and fall during Las Vegas boom to bust years of the Great Recession.
This book really hit home with me as I lived through these years, not in the glitzy casino industry but in the retail industry. Over developent. Expansion. Bigger and better. More, more, more. The highs of wealth the crash at the end of the ride.
In Dream City: A Novel, Unger tells the story of a nation using the microcosm of Vegas. A cautionary tale? Maybe. I enjoyed reading it.
I can only hope that this chase for wealth isn't as cyclical as it appears. Place your bets.
I received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.
This book really hit home with me as I lived through these years, not in the glitzy casino industry but in the retail industry. Over developent. Expansion. Bigger and better. More, more, more. The highs of wealth the crash at the end of the ride.
In Dream City: A Novel, Unger tells the story of a nation using the microcosm of Vegas. A cautionary tale? Maybe. I enjoyed reading it.
I can only hope that this chase for wealth isn't as cyclical as it appears. Place your bets.
I received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.
July 21, 2025
I don’t think this story has been told about Las Vegas before, and Douglas Unger was the right person to do it. It's not a story about the gamblers in the casinos, it's the story about the big gambles behind building the new Strip that began with the Mirage and Treasure Island ... the financial wheeling and dealing, the corners cut, the ethical compromises, the human cost, all in the service of big ambitions. The research on how the Strip was rebuilt shines through, while the novel follows the very human stories of C.D. and Gretta, trying to ride the momentum to the top ... heartbreaking, especially Gretta's story.
February 18, 2025
The longer review is now available on LibraryThing (https://www.librarything.com/work/330..., I received the book through them for review) and my Substack (https://open.substack.com/pub/truthbe...). For now I’ll just say that it is worth the read, especially if you are interested in thinking about the present moment in light of the recent past…and if you have any interest whatsoever in the city of Las Vegas. It is a dystopian morality play, of sorts, without the jeremiad or judgmentalism that sometimes implies.
January 2, 2026
It's fiction, but if you want to know about the rise and fall of Las Vegas from the first Megaresorts to the 2008 Crash, there's no better book than this one. A rollicking adventure of a larger-than-life yarn. Highly recommend!
December 13, 2025
Las Vegas has always been defined by the boom and bust cycle that is the American economy. Only, the cycles that Vegas experiences, reach higher and fall farther than just about anywhere else. It is also a city where dreams are realized and crushed. In Dream City, Unger peels back the curtain on what it's like to live, succeed, fail and fall in a place that locals would never refer to as "Sin City". If you've spent more than a long weekend in Vegas, and especially if you are a local like me, you will thoroughly enjoy this book.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews