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L'atlante dei posti sbagliati
Mamush è un giornalista in crisi. Nato negli Stati Uniti da madre etiope, vive a Parigi con la moglie Hannah e il figlio, e cerca di tenere a bada le sue numerose dipendenze. Tornato a Washington per far visita alla madre, trova ad attenderlo una notizia inaspettata e Samuel, l'uomo che gli ha fatto da padre, si è appena tolto la vita. Affettuoso e istrionico, anche Samuel era emigrato dall'Etiopia, per poi diventare l'ennesimo tassista straniero in un paese che a poco a poco lo ha annientato. La madre di Mamush lo aveva accolto in casa senza troppe spiegazioni, e la loro strana amicizia, venata di apprensione, è l'enigma che Mamush cerca di decifrare da quando era bambino. Di fronte al dolore per quel lutto improvviso, Mamush capisce che l'unico modo per riprendere in mano la sua vita e il suo matrimonio è fare luce su quel passato misterioso; e così attraversa gli Stati Uniti in taxi, in un viaggio in cui realtà, ricordi e immaginazione si confondono come i panorami fuori dal finestrino di un'auto in corsa. L'atlante dei posti sbagliati è un romanzo sull'amore familiare e sulla paternità, e sul potere della fantasia e dei ricordi nel rimettere insieme i pezzi di un'identità in frantumi. Dinaw Mengestu dà voce allo spaesamento di chi si sente sempre nel posto sbagliato, e con una scrittura poetica e rigogliosa riesce a trasformare la parola "fine" in un nuovo, sorprendente inizio.
297 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 30, 2024
446 people are currently reading
15402 people want to read
About the author
Dinaw Mengestu
20 books452 followersLeft Ethiopia at age two and was raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. Graduated from Georgetown University and received his MFA from Columbia University. In 2010 he was chosen as one of the 20 best writers under 40 by The New Yorker.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 425 reviews
August 14, 2024
[4.5+]
Literature lovers and readers who relish in unreliable narrators ---welcome to the shifting landscape and tilted views of frayed individuals. The narrator, Mamush, is an Ethiopian American and international journalist living in Paris with his photographer wife, Hannah. Their two-year-old son was recently diagnosed with an unspecified neurological disorder. Unspecified to the reader, that is. Their marriage is losing steam, and Mamush is suffering—not only from personal demons, but old memories resurface, at times skewed or partial. He spent part of his childhood in the DC suburbs, and recollections are blinkered. He’s mired in misunderstandings and unsolved mysteries about his background. This novel is an interior odyssey story and asks us to think about life, death, and the messy loneliness in-between.
Samuel, an avuncular figure in Mamush’s life---who may be his biological father, is a cabdriver and word lover as well as his prominent male figure. He steals attention from the room, being an extroverted individual. He frequently muses on and talks about being an Ethiopian immigrant in America, and often attributes his failed ambition due to being a non-native. He knows he will be misunderstood by Americans, that he is the stereotypical immigrant cab driver. But to himself, and those that care about him, he isn’t a cliché. To Mamush, he’s an enigma.
You know that something is off about Mamush when he misses the plane from Paris to Virginia even though he arrived at the airport in plenty of time. He’s an international journalist, he knows how to keep moving. His plan was to visit the man who was the prominent male figure in his life. He calls Hannah to tell her half-truths about missing his flight, and from then on, I don’t think I ever turned a page without wrinkling my brow. Or maybe it was with the first sentence, “I learned of Samuel’s death two days before Christmas while standing in the doorway of my mother’s new home.”
Someone Like Us is not the book you go to for a straightforward or tightly plotted story, despite the exciting first words. It’s thematic and atmospheric, and approaches its subjects sideways. If I were to do a painting of the way the story was written, it would show people with 1/3 to ½ of their face in shadow. I’d get close, and it was as if I was further away. The best way for me to interpret the text is to try and think the same way it reads. At an angle.
We know it addresses the immigrant experience, not without a fistful of paranoia, and the question of family, secrets, addiction, loneliness, and ambition. The meaning of self is also a quest on this journey.
We as readers are left to answer the major questions that Mengestu asks via his characters. A friend of Mamush’s said to him, “You’re like a donut. There’s a hole in the middle, where something solid should be.” I had to face it that, as I follow this family, including Mamush’s mother, I realize I’m tracking inscrutable individuals, all sort of donut-ish. Samuel is charming and voluminous with words, a creative. He operates in his own dimension.
Like the journalist he is, Mamush decides to look for answers in Chicago. He found out about Samuel’s death and then at some point went to visit his mother. I quit trying to figure out when I was in the future, the past, or back to the future. The current setting is the Christmas holidays before the pandemic came to take the credit away from all other stories.
Mamush’s mother is a jokester but her jokes have an element of truth to it, like—when she sees Mamush in shambles, she wants to know where to get her money back-- “this is America” --for Mamush’s college education. Samuel spent certain days of the week sleeping over the house with Mamush and his mother, but he was absent many times when he was expected to be there. Illnesses, addictions are referred to on the periphery.
I could ponder this book for ages and still have more hunches than facts. Perhaps all the facts are there like puzzle pieces but still mostly in the box. We don’t have to have the answers. What is revealed is what we must speculate. The book goes back and forth and back and forth in time until the actual years dissolve into a mixed brew. Our memories aren’t linear, and this is a book largely of memories and their reconstruction.
If plot isn’t necessary to engage you and it isn’t tied up neatly and you’re okay with that, then it is worth taking a peek. I’ve read almost all his novels; Mengestu explores the immigrant experience as human experience. Select photos are included to illuminate the corners of Hannah’s mind. They are pictures of loneliness and stillness. She’s one of the best mostly-offstage-characters I’ve ever met in a book!
Thank you to Knopf for sending me a finished copy for review.
Literature lovers and readers who relish in unreliable narrators ---welcome to the shifting landscape and tilted views of frayed individuals. The narrator, Mamush, is an Ethiopian American and international journalist living in Paris with his photographer wife, Hannah. Their two-year-old son was recently diagnosed with an unspecified neurological disorder. Unspecified to the reader, that is. Their marriage is losing steam, and Mamush is suffering—not only from personal demons, but old memories resurface, at times skewed or partial. He spent part of his childhood in the DC suburbs, and recollections are blinkered. He’s mired in misunderstandings and unsolved mysteries about his background. This novel is an interior odyssey story and asks us to think about life, death, and the messy loneliness in-between.
Samuel, an avuncular figure in Mamush’s life---who may be his biological father, is a cabdriver and word lover as well as his prominent male figure. He steals attention from the room, being an extroverted individual. He frequently muses on and talks about being an Ethiopian immigrant in America, and often attributes his failed ambition due to being a non-native. He knows he will be misunderstood by Americans, that he is the stereotypical immigrant cab driver. But to himself, and those that care about him, he isn’t a cliché. To Mamush, he’s an enigma.
You know that something is off about Mamush when he misses the plane from Paris to Virginia even though he arrived at the airport in plenty of time. He’s an international journalist, he knows how to keep moving. His plan was to visit the man who was the prominent male figure in his life. He calls Hannah to tell her half-truths about missing his flight, and from then on, I don’t think I ever turned a page without wrinkling my brow. Or maybe it was with the first sentence, “I learned of Samuel’s death two days before Christmas while standing in the doorway of my mother’s new home.”
Someone Like Us is not the book you go to for a straightforward or tightly plotted story, despite the exciting first words. It’s thematic and atmospheric, and approaches its subjects sideways. If I were to do a painting of the way the story was written, it would show people with 1/3 to ½ of their face in shadow. I’d get close, and it was as if I was further away. The best way for me to interpret the text is to try and think the same way it reads. At an angle.
We know it addresses the immigrant experience, not without a fistful of paranoia, and the question of family, secrets, addiction, loneliness, and ambition. The meaning of self is also a quest on this journey.
We as readers are left to answer the major questions that Mengestu asks via his characters. A friend of Mamush’s said to him, “You’re like a donut. There’s a hole in the middle, where something solid should be.” I had to face it that, as I follow this family, including Mamush’s mother, I realize I’m tracking inscrutable individuals, all sort of donut-ish. Samuel is charming and voluminous with words, a creative. He operates in his own dimension.
Like the journalist he is, Mamush decides to look for answers in Chicago. He found out about Samuel’s death and then at some point went to visit his mother. I quit trying to figure out when I was in the future, the past, or back to the future. The current setting is the Christmas holidays before the pandemic came to take the credit away from all other stories.
Mamush’s mother is a jokester but her jokes have an element of truth to it, like—when she sees Mamush in shambles, she wants to know where to get her money back-- “this is America” --for Mamush’s college education. Samuel spent certain days of the week sleeping over the house with Mamush and his mother, but he was absent many times when he was expected to be there. Illnesses, addictions are referred to on the periphery.
I could ponder this book for ages and still have more hunches than facts. Perhaps all the facts are there like puzzle pieces but still mostly in the box. We don’t have to have the answers. What is revealed is what we must speculate. The book goes back and forth and back and forth in time until the actual years dissolve into a mixed brew. Our memories aren’t linear, and this is a book largely of memories and their reconstruction.
If plot isn’t necessary to engage you and it isn’t tied up neatly and you’re okay with that, then it is worth taking a peek. I’ve read almost all his novels; Mengestu explores the immigrant experience as human experience. Select photos are included to illuminate the corners of Hannah’s mind. They are pictures of loneliness and stillness. She’s one of the best mostly-offstage-characters I’ve ever met in a book!
Thank you to Knopf for sending me a finished copy for review.
August 13, 2024
It was obvious from the start that Dinaw Mengestu was adding something extraordinary to American literature. His debut novel, “The Beautiful Things That Heaven Bears” (2007), told the story of an immigrant who, like the author, had come to the United States from Ethiopia only to find himself haunting his new home and haunted by his homeland.
Accolades for the young author accrued quickly, including a Guardian First Book Award and a Los Angeles Times Book Prize. The National Book Foundation named Mengestu one of its “5 Under 35”; the New Yorker said he was one of the best 20 writers under 40. The MacArthur Foundation bestowed him its “genius” grant.
Over the past 17 years, that early praise has been confirmed by several inventive, introspective novels, including “How to Read the Air” and “All Our Names.” Forged from an alloy that defies the heat of the melting pot, Mengestu’s stories are an inimitable monument to the African immigrant experience. In book after book, this patron saint of longing has unraveled the twisted privileges and agonies of being here but not of here.
His new novel, “Someone Like Us,” teases the inclusive spirit of that title. Like all of Mengestu’s novels, it’s about the struggle to feel settled, to feel at peace, but once again he edges around that theme by a wholly unexpected route. Although the story takes place over a few days near the end of 2019, the festive tones of the holiday season never pierce the pervading gloom of these opening words: “I learned of Samuel’s death two days before Christmas.”
This is no procedural, but an evocative scent of mystery lingers over the novel. Who is Samuel? Why did he die? Why must we care? For the next 250 pages, these are the questions the narrator worries over as though his own life depends on the answers — because, in a sense, it does.
“Even though I’d known for years that Samuel was my father, neither he nor my mother had ever expected me to treat him as such,” the narrator explains. “Whatever friendship they’d had in Ethiopia had evolved into something far more guarded and yet protective.” After coming to America, Samuel remained an avuncular figure in an erratic orbit around their lives....
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
Accolades for the young author accrued quickly, including a Guardian First Book Award and a Los Angeles Times Book Prize. The National Book Foundation named Mengestu one of its “5 Under 35”; the New Yorker said he was one of the best 20 writers under 40. The MacArthur Foundation bestowed him its “genius” grant.
Over the past 17 years, that early praise has been confirmed by several inventive, introspective novels, including “How to Read the Air” and “All Our Names.” Forged from an alloy that defies the heat of the melting pot, Mengestu’s stories are an inimitable monument to the African immigrant experience. In book after book, this patron saint of longing has unraveled the twisted privileges and agonies of being here but not of here.
His new novel, “Someone Like Us,” teases the inclusive spirit of that title. Like all of Mengestu’s novels, it’s about the struggle to feel settled, to feel at peace, but once again he edges around that theme by a wholly unexpected route. Although the story takes place over a few days near the end of 2019, the festive tones of the holiday season never pierce the pervading gloom of these opening words: “I learned of Samuel’s death two days before Christmas.”
This is no procedural, but an evocative scent of mystery lingers over the novel. Who is Samuel? Why did he die? Why must we care? For the next 250 pages, these are the questions the narrator worries over as though his own life depends on the answers — because, in a sense, it does.
“Even though I’d known for years that Samuel was my father, neither he nor my mother had ever expected me to treat him as such,” the narrator explains. “Whatever friendship they’d had in Ethiopia had evolved into something far more guarded and yet protective.” After coming to America, Samuel remained an avuncular figure in an erratic orbit around their lives....
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
November 23, 2024
Some interesting themes related to family (e.g., challenging caregiver/child relationships), loss, and assimilation in a dominant culture. The writing style was a bit too vague and dry for my liking and I agree with other readers who were a bit confused about the plot in Someone Like Us. There was a quiet eeriness to the tone of this novel that was engaging a first, but ultimately not enough for me to rate it higher.
July 30, 2024
Someone Like Us features Mamush who after finding success as a journalist moves to Paris where he lives with his wife and young son. Feeling lost is a decent way to describe where he’s at in his life at this moment. He has planner a trip to visit Washington DC where he grew up in an Ethiopian immigrant community. On the day he arrives, his father figure, Samuel, is found dead. Mamush is on a path of discovery. Maybe uncovering the past will lead to a better future.
This novel is quiet and slow moving but I felt invested in Mamush. With a character driven book you are hoping the build up will lead to something great or profound. Unfortunately, it did not pack as much of an emotional punch as I had anticipated. Some of the depth probably went right over my head though. I have a feeling I could appreciate this book more if I had insight to the author and what he was going for with his writing. Or even a book club discussion peeling away layer by layer the complexities of the story and characters would help me understand more. That’s the beauty of reading, you don’t always pick up on everything the first time around.
Not a bad read as learning more about the experiences of the Ethiopian community in the US was enlightening.
Thank you Knopf for providing a free advance copy! All thoughts expressed are my honest opinion.
This novel is quiet and slow moving but I felt invested in Mamush. With a character driven book you are hoping the build up will lead to something great or profound. Unfortunately, it did not pack as much of an emotional punch as I had anticipated. Some of the depth probably went right over my head though. I have a feeling I could appreciate this book more if I had insight to the author and what he was going for with his writing. Or even a book club discussion peeling away layer by layer the complexities of the story and characters would help me understand more. That’s the beauty of reading, you don’t always pick up on everything the first time around.
Not a bad read as learning more about the experiences of the Ethiopian community in the US was enlightening.
Thank you Knopf for providing a free advance copy! All thoughts expressed are my honest opinion.
July 24, 2024
“You’re like a donut. There’s a hole in the middle, where something solid should be.”
Dinaw Mengestu is a master at laying out, brick by brick, the immigrant experience in America. In his latest book, he goes back to some of the same questions he posed in the magnificent All Our Names and How To Read the Air: how do you love a chimera? How do you love yourself? How do you even define yourself? And, perhaps, most of all: how do you write the immigrant story when things start and end so abruptly?
In All Our Names, the main character says, “I was no one when I arrive in Kampala: it was exactly what I wanted.” The same may be said here about Mamush, a journalist who has spent his career focusing on all the sad stories, such as war and genocide.
He lives in Paris, where his marriage is teetering, with his wife Hannah and a toddler son with a rare physical disability. He is called to Washington DC by his mother, who has fears about the man who is Mamush’s father: Samuel. Right from the first pages, when Mamush misses his flight and then spontaneously pays for another flight to Chicago, it is evident that he, too, is a man in crisis.
The family lived in Chicago at one point. In a particularly poignant scene, Mamush remembers being asked by his writing professor to recreate some rooms with special significance. But he can’t. He creates an alter ego and a separate world for that person. He then completes the assignment by writing about places he barely knows.
Mamush needs to know Samuel to know himself. How did he reconcile his Ethiopian identity with his American one – living in a world where he is viewed with suspicion, must consistently deal with racist cops, and stand by as his most audacious dreams fade into the background?
At its core, Someone Like Us is a book about stories – the stories we tell ourselves to survive, the stories we create about those we love and ourselves, the stories that careen out of our control. At one point, Mamush speaks to Samuel: “There isn’t one story. Things start and end abruptly. Some pages are just a single paragraph. I don’t always understand who’s speaking or what’s happening. If what you’ve written is fact or fiction.”
And that’s the point of this book. There isn’t just one story. In life there are multiple narrators and points of view, and the truth is often hidden. It’s up to us to decide what story to follow. I’m grateful to Knopf for enabling me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review. 4.5 stars.
Dinaw Mengestu is a master at laying out, brick by brick, the immigrant experience in America. In his latest book, he goes back to some of the same questions he posed in the magnificent All Our Names and How To Read the Air: how do you love a chimera? How do you love yourself? How do you even define yourself? And, perhaps, most of all: how do you write the immigrant story when things start and end so abruptly?
In All Our Names, the main character says, “I was no one when I arrive in Kampala: it was exactly what I wanted.” The same may be said here about Mamush, a journalist who has spent his career focusing on all the sad stories, such as war and genocide.
He lives in Paris, where his marriage is teetering, with his wife Hannah and a toddler son with a rare physical disability. He is called to Washington DC by his mother, who has fears about the man who is Mamush’s father: Samuel. Right from the first pages, when Mamush misses his flight and then spontaneously pays for another flight to Chicago, it is evident that he, too, is a man in crisis.
The family lived in Chicago at one point. In a particularly poignant scene, Mamush remembers being asked by his writing professor to recreate some rooms with special significance. But he can’t. He creates an alter ego and a separate world for that person. He then completes the assignment by writing about places he barely knows.
Mamush needs to know Samuel to know himself. How did he reconcile his Ethiopian identity with his American one – living in a world where he is viewed with suspicion, must consistently deal with racist cops, and stand by as his most audacious dreams fade into the background?
At its core, Someone Like Us is a book about stories – the stories we tell ourselves to survive, the stories we create about those we love and ourselves, the stories that careen out of our control. At one point, Mamush speaks to Samuel: “There isn’t one story. Things start and end abruptly. Some pages are just a single paragraph. I don’t always understand who’s speaking or what’s happening. If what you’ve written is fact or fiction.”
And that’s the point of this book. There isn’t just one story. In life there are multiple narrators and points of view, and the truth is often hidden. It’s up to us to decide what story to follow. I’m grateful to Knopf for enabling me to be an early reader in exchange for an honest review. 4.5 stars.
June 30, 2025
Disillusionment with the American Dream is this novel’s game.
Told in a style that is a bit of a fever dream; all several starts and stops that both keeps you on its toes and at a distance because you don’t really know where it’s heading. It can be frustrating because of its consistent need to keep you in the dark. Other moments are accelerated, taking you down an even headier path. A story that holds its cards close to its chest, and only provides answers at its own pace. Some will appreciate this creative choice, others will seethe.
This is a story that’s hard to pin down. Within these pages, we wonder: what is true and what is faux? One of those books that should be even more enriching as a reread.
Beguiling, intelligent, disparate. This ain’t your typical immigrant story.
Told in a style that is a bit of a fever dream; all several starts and stops that both keeps you on its toes and at a distance because you don’t really know where it’s heading. It can be frustrating because of its consistent need to keep you in the dark. Other moments are accelerated, taking you down an even headier path. A story that holds its cards close to its chest, and only provides answers at its own pace. Some will appreciate this creative choice, others will seethe.
This is a story that’s hard to pin down. Within these pages, we wonder: what is true and what is faux? One of those books that should be even more enriching as a reread.
Beguiling, intelligent, disparate. This ain’t your typical immigrant story.
September 6, 2024
Maybe I missed something in the timeline because I'm clueless as to what I just read.
August 16, 2024
NOTE TO SELF: Es stop picking up rando books in the new release section of the library without fully examining their contents!!!! This was another wild pick and we got off on the wrong foot because the blurb says the protagonist falls in love with HELEN. but the entire book she is called HANNAH. Hackles immediately raised.
Then there was some seemingly (intentional???? Idek) plot holes like at the start he said “everyone knew Samual was my father” but was he? Did he mean he wasn’t? Was convinced this was a typo for like 20 mins and I don’t think that’s a positive for a book.
Some nice moments, but overall couldn’t follow the thread, which wasn’t the whole issue the issue was the characters were unlikeable and frankly I didn’t care a jot for their fate. Idk man it just wasn’t for me and it was a bit of a chore to get thru. BACK to the library I go.
Then there was some seemingly (intentional???? Idek) plot holes like at the start he said “everyone knew Samual was my father” but was he? Did he mean he wasn’t? Was convinced this was a typo for like 20 mins and I don’t think that’s a positive for a book.
Some nice moments, but overall couldn’t follow the thread, which wasn’t the whole issue the issue was the characters were unlikeable and frankly I didn’t care a jot for their fate. Idk man it just wasn’t for me and it was a bit of a chore to get thru. BACK to the library I go.
February 17, 2025
Some really deep and painful writing about the immigrant experience, fathers and sons, and substance abuse (interesting to read it just after having read Martyr, which treats similar themes). But the material is doled out in a meandering thread which doubles and triples back without ever really advancing the ball. The somber bleakness is unrelenting.
The women characters too - the narrator's mother, his wife Hannah and Elsa - are such ciphers. To me that was a weakness at the center of the book - Hannah is a voice of care at the other end of the phone, safeguarding her husband, but it's almost impossible to tell why she fell for him, no less continues to love him.
I've gathered that Mangestu's other books are different and I might like them better. This was slow going in a thousand shades of gray.
The women characters too - the narrator's mother, his wife Hannah and Elsa - are such ciphers. To me that was a weakness at the center of the book - Hannah is a voice of care at the other end of the phone, safeguarding her husband, but it's almost impossible to tell why she fell for him, no less continues to love him.
I've gathered that Mangestu's other books are different and I might like them better. This was slow going in a thousand shades of gray.
October 10, 2024
This book floored me. The construction of the novel is perfect and masterful in an unexplainable way with a narrative that weaves in and out of time and place without ever being disoriented, building deep, emotional characters through this process. Its narrator is so much more than some hackneyed "unreliable" tag describes. Its central mystery is buried in the stories we tell to survive; the stories and traumas that cause people to move across the globe are not unreliable because they can't be trusted. They're unreliable because the world and reality are untrustworthy.
December 17, 2024
A puzzle of a story, beautifully structured, about the dislocation of the immigrant experience. At least that’s my conclusion after a first reading. Mengestu is a powerful writer whose work rewards deeper thought.
December 22, 2024
This was absolutely brilliant. I may need someone to fully explain that brilliance, but wow. What a construction.
December 15, 2024
Mamush danced around everything in this book - his relationship with Hannah, his son’s condition, his addiction, his relationship with Samuel. Everything was written between the lines and required the reader to make all sorts of leaps and inferences from the intricately muddled storyline of Mamush’s past, present, imagined, and real experiences. I understand that this was intentional but I did not enjoy it as a reader. The recurring refrain of “Do you understand?” was met with my “not at all” each time.
Also, all of Mamush’s interactions to those closest to him were fragmented and awkward. Why is he talking to his wife as if he barely knows her? Why does it feel like he spends half the book standing limply and giving one word answers to people? Again, I do feel that this was intentional and we are meant to take into consideration that he is an unreliable narrator, but it just added to the overall unpleasant reading experience.
I feel that the author was skillful in the writing and weaving of this book, it was just not for me, but it was not by any means a bad book. It is worth a try but be warned it may not be everybody’s cup of tea.
Also, all of Mamush’s interactions to those closest to him were fragmented and awkward. Why is he talking to his wife as if he barely knows her? Why does it feel like he spends half the book standing limply and giving one word answers to people? Again, I do feel that this was intentional and we are meant to take into consideration that he is an unreliable narrator, but it just added to the overall unpleasant reading experience.
I feel that the author was skillful in the writing and weaving of this book, it was just not for me, but it was not by any means a bad book. It is worth a try but be warned it may not be everybody’s cup of tea.
December 6, 2024
My issue is that the book is wholly unfollow-able. I have a need for a cleanly wrapped up plot and this is the opposite of that. For the entire last section of the book it’s unclear what is happening when and while I know that’s mainly the point, it became less interesting to me as it grew more unreliable.
November 30, 2024
Mamush, a journalist, and his wife, Hannah (not Helen), a photographer, live in Paris with their young son, who has a neurological condition. He was reared in an Ethiopian community near Washington DC after his mother and Samuel (who may or may not be his biological father) migrated from Ethiopia. Mamush’s marriage is troubled, and he has always had questions about his heritage. The story begins with Mamush changing his travel plans and lying to his wife about it.
Mamush attempts to figure out why Samuel has died by an apparent suicide. He is also on a journey of self-discovery. The timeline moves backward and forward among real events, imaginings, and memories. It is obvious that Mamush often has difficulty telling the truth and is likely experiencing mental troubles. This is a character-driven novel and not for anyone looking for a dynamic plot. It is nicely written literary fiction that kept my attention from start to finish. I think the author does an excellent job with the ending, which I found very satisfying.
Mamush attempts to figure out why Samuel has died by an apparent suicide. He is also on a journey of self-discovery. The timeline moves backward and forward among real events, imaginings, and memories. It is obvious that Mamush often has difficulty telling the truth and is likely experiencing mental troubles. This is a character-driven novel and not for anyone looking for a dynamic plot. It is nicely written literary fiction that kept my attention from start to finish. I think the author does an excellent job with the ending, which I found very satisfying.
December 2, 2024
The end of this book destroyed me.
I sometimes struggled to track the timeline of whether scenes were before or after Samuel‘s death throughout the story, but once I let go of trying to figure that out, it all unfolded in a pretty magical way by the closing chapters.
Also, I read this on audio with a print copy to mark my favorite passages, and I think it might have been easier to track that timeline if I read it completely in print.
Anyway, this story, and the main characters are just devastating with how many important experiences and themes they connect to and I hope this book finds many more readers.
The depth and nuance employed to capture the immigrant experience in the U.S., especially for Africans, and more specifically, for Ethiopians, was exceptional.
This is one I immediately want to read a second time and study. Don’t miss out on this incredible piece of literature that is meant to be savored and held in all its messy glory.
I sometimes struggled to track the timeline of whether scenes were before or after Samuel‘s death throughout the story, but once I let go of trying to figure that out, it all unfolded in a pretty magical way by the closing chapters.
Also, I read this on audio with a print copy to mark my favorite passages, and I think it might have been easier to track that timeline if I read it completely in print.
Anyway, this story, and the main characters are just devastating with how many important experiences and themes they connect to and I hope this book finds many more readers.
The depth and nuance employed to capture the immigrant experience in the U.S., especially for Africans, and more specifically, for Ethiopians, was exceptional.
This is one I immediately want to read a second time and study. Don’t miss out on this incredible piece of literature that is meant to be savored and held in all its messy glory.
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October 4, 2024I described this to a friend as "A novel about a man who doesn't know himself" and she replied, "A tale as old as time!" But how can you know yourself when your single mom and her best friend from the old country purposely obscure not only their past, but their present? Growing up with no history, almost required to have no memories, Mamush just can't settle. Told as a story of several overlapping journeys (by air, by road, in one's head...), it doesn't neatly wrap, but it wraps "enough" to give Mamush a direction.
June 18, 2024
3.75 stars
Dinaw Mengestu's new novel SOMEONE LIKE US (publishes July 30, 2024) follows main character Mamush as he confronts his past and his relationship with his father Samuel in an insightful and ethereal way. Both Mamush and Samuel battle similar demons, and the internal struggle comes through in Mengesu's amazing writing. Unusual for a literary novel are exquisite photographs that are interspersed in the narrative, taken ostensibly by Mamush's wife Hannah/Helen (the text I read named his wife as Hannah, but Goodreads says his wife is Helen). The reading experience was made much richer, and I felt I had a connection to his wife through these photographs.
I think a 5 star read encapsulates a tremendous story combined with a tremendous reading experience, where you find yourself immersed and can't break yourself away from reading. While I thought this novel had incredible themes it explored, I wasn't transported by the reading experience. There's not a lot of plot in this novel, and I felt that it got bogged down in thoughts. In addition, some of the narrative is a bit confusing as far as time and location jumps. For that reason, I don't recommend taking this in via audio.
All in all, this is a strong novel, and I will check out more of Mengesu's backlist.
Dinaw Mengestu's new novel SOMEONE LIKE US (publishes July 30, 2024) follows main character Mamush as he confronts his past and his relationship with his father Samuel in an insightful and ethereal way. Both Mamush and Samuel battle similar demons, and the internal struggle comes through in Mengesu's amazing writing. Unusual for a literary novel are exquisite photographs that are interspersed in the narrative, taken ostensibly by Mamush's wife Hannah/Helen (the text I read named his wife as Hannah, but Goodreads says his wife is Helen). The reading experience was made much richer, and I felt I had a connection to his wife through these photographs.
I think a 5 star read encapsulates a tremendous story combined with a tremendous reading experience, where you find yourself immersed and can't break yourself away from reading. While I thought this novel had incredible themes it explored, I wasn't transported by the reading experience. There's not a lot of plot in this novel, and I felt that it got bogged down in thoughts. In addition, some of the narrative is a bit confusing as far as time and location jumps. For that reason, I don't recommend taking this in via audio.
All in all, this is a strong novel, and I will check out more of Mengesu's backlist.
March 17, 2024
This novel centers on the dense, weaving relationship between our protagonist, Mamush, and his father, Samuel. In its form, the novel has experimental elements that work well with its themes of immigration, disconnection, and loss. The central trope of the taxi cab also becomes formalized, working as a metaphorical and literal vehicle for explaining the relationship between Mamush and Samuel.
The most compelling part of this novel for me was the subtlety with which Mengestu captures the unconventional father-son relationship at the heart of the story. Samuel and Mamush’s mother have a friendship but not a romantic connection, but due to circumstances beyond their control (I won’t spoil this detail) end up conceiving Mamush. His mother does not necessarily want Samuel as the father of her child and Samuel had no intention of becoming a father yet or in this way. Thus, Samuel is not quite situated as Mamush’s father when he is a child, even as it becomes clear, over the course of the book, that the father-son framework for their relationship is ultimately inescapable. What proceeds is a meditation on how the cruelty of the world (war, imperialism, racism) shapes Samuel’s fate (particularly his socioeconomic oppression and struggle with addiction) and his relationship with Mamush. They love one another deeply and yet the articulation of that love is always being suffocated by their environment and history.
This initial father-son dyad is paralleled powerfully by Mamush’s relationship with his own young son, who is waiting at home for him in Paris with his wife, Hannah. We sense that Mamush is struggling to stay with his wife and child due to his own demons, especially how he is haunted by his parents’ traumatic pasts. The book suggests that unraveling Samuel’s life will somehow enable him to move forward with Hannah and his son. In the end, Mengestu gives us hope that Mamush has found his way back to his family—on both sides of the Atlantic.
A moving, brilliant, intricate book, I highly recommend this novel to other readers!
The most compelling part of this novel for me was the subtlety with which Mengestu captures the unconventional father-son relationship at the heart of the story. Samuel and Mamush’s mother have a friendship but not a romantic connection, but due to circumstances beyond their control (I won’t spoil this detail) end up conceiving Mamush. His mother does not necessarily want Samuel as the father of her child and Samuel had no intention of becoming a father yet or in this way. Thus, Samuel is not quite situated as Mamush’s father when he is a child, even as it becomes clear, over the course of the book, that the father-son framework for their relationship is ultimately inescapable. What proceeds is a meditation on how the cruelty of the world (war, imperialism, racism) shapes Samuel’s fate (particularly his socioeconomic oppression and struggle with addiction) and his relationship with Mamush. They love one another deeply and yet the articulation of that love is always being suffocated by their environment and history.
This initial father-son dyad is paralleled powerfully by Mamush’s relationship with his own young son, who is waiting at home for him in Paris with his wife, Hannah. We sense that Mamush is struggling to stay with his wife and child due to his own demons, especially how he is haunted by his parents’ traumatic pasts. The book suggests that unraveling Samuel’s life will somehow enable him to move forward with Hannah and his son. In the end, Mengestu gives us hope that Mamush has found his way back to his family—on both sides of the Atlantic.
A moving, brilliant, intricate book, I highly recommend this novel to other readers!
January 28, 2025
I was hooked by its first line: "I learned of Samuel's death two days before Christmas while standing in the doorway of my mother's new home." And from there, I might have expected a plot-driven mystery unfolding. However, Mengestu does something different with his storytelling through the narrator, Mamush. There are many timelines, or memories, happening at once, and each thread seems at a bit of an angle from the truth, or just around the corner from it. How much should we believe? How much should the reader need to know to understand what Mamush is trying to say to us--to himself?
I think there's a key to this in one passage of the book, where Samuel advises Mamush: "You were born here. You think the important thing is to tell the truth, even if you don't know what that is. You should know this; it is important you listen. If you want to lie to someone, you don't answer them directly. Do you understand? You tell them something else. You give them a story that is sometimes true. Sometimes lies. ...If you tell me this many things, then I don't know what's true and what you have made up. I have to try and remember everything, but that will be impossible. You see. You understand what I'm telling you now?"
The ending is really something; I read it twice and teared up twice. I can envision myself reading this again at a later date; and even if I don't know exactly what is true and what is a lie, I feel for these characters and what they've been through and what awaits them.
I think there's a key to this in one passage of the book, where Samuel advises Mamush: "You were born here. You think the important thing is to tell the truth, even if you don't know what that is. You should know this; it is important you listen. If you want to lie to someone, you don't answer them directly. Do you understand? You tell them something else. You give them a story that is sometimes true. Sometimes lies. ...If you tell me this many things, then I don't know what's true and what you have made up. I have to try and remember everything, but that will be impossible. You see. You understand what I'm telling you now?"
The ending is really something; I read it twice and teared up twice. I can envision myself reading this again at a later date; and even if I don't know exactly what is true and what is a lie, I feel for these characters and what they've been through and what awaits them.
September 26, 2024
I have read and enjoyed all of Mengestu’s three earlier novels, sucked in by his gift for evoking (as much as you can for an Anglo reader) the highs and lows of the immigrant experience in America.
Others have commented on the floating, overlapping and interwoven timelines in this short novel. Some have found it easy to suspend the desire for some element of linear movement in the narrative. Yes, there is some, but too often you find yourself several sentences into a chapter, wondering where you are in time and space, who is dead and who isn’t, and where we are headed.
Clearly this was Mengestu’s intent and part of the point of the whole literary exercise, but I just found it so confusing. Is the reader really supposed to spend so much time figuring out the basics? It seemed to distract from being brought along in the narrative.
As in his other work, I feel that I gained a little more insight into what it’s like for those who come to this country, struggle to succeed, and suffer under the burden of the systemic racism and otherism that pervades our society. For those insights, I am grateful. Beyond that, my brain needs a break and a more literal book for my next read!
Others have commented on the floating, overlapping and interwoven timelines in this short novel. Some have found it easy to suspend the desire for some element of linear movement in the narrative. Yes, there is some, but too often you find yourself several sentences into a chapter, wondering where you are in time and space, who is dead and who isn’t, and where we are headed.
Clearly this was Mengestu’s intent and part of the point of the whole literary exercise, but I just found it so confusing. Is the reader really supposed to spend so much time figuring out the basics? It seemed to distract from being brought along in the narrative.
As in his other work, I feel that I gained a little more insight into what it’s like for those who come to this country, struggle to succeed, and suffer under the burden of the systemic racism and otherism that pervades our society. For those insights, I am grateful. Beyond that, my brain needs a break and a more literal book for my next read!
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June 13, 2025my key takeaways that i think are so powerful which won’t connect the same to anyone who hasn’t read the book but i want to write so i remember when i look back :)
1. the importance of saying “no i don’t understand”—so often we use empathy through saying “i understand” to express to someone that they are not alone and we value their experience but more than ever after seeing samuel’s perspective of immigrating to the us has really further proved the point that sometimes the best way to extend empathy to others is acknowledging their experience that is completely separate from your own
2. the reminder of the added struggle immigrants face of having no where to call “home” and constantly feeling that they are in between two worlds—i especially wish in times like this that this excerpt detailing samuel’s perspective on this could be read by all americans
3. again this is a reminder but i think one most of us could use—WESTERN CULTURE IS NOT SUPERIOR TO ALL OTHERS! this idea that it is the “default” or the “standard” is harmful and narrow minded!
1. the importance of saying “no i don’t understand”—so often we use empathy through saying “i understand” to express to someone that they are not alone and we value their experience but more than ever after seeing samuel’s perspective of immigrating to the us has really further proved the point that sometimes the best way to extend empathy to others is acknowledging their experience that is completely separate from your own
2. the reminder of the added struggle immigrants face of having no where to call “home” and constantly feeling that they are in between two worlds—i especially wish in times like this that this excerpt detailing samuel’s perspective on this could be read by all americans
3. again this is a reminder but i think one most of us could use—WESTERN CULTURE IS NOT SUPERIOR TO ALL OTHERS! this idea that it is the “default” or the “standard” is harmful and narrow minded!
Want to read
April 18, 2025For May Group Read, Literary Fiction by People of Color. I have not read anything by this author before but like the sound of this book.
Dinaw Mengestu is supposed to be part of the discussion, so I always find that makes it so fascinating, to learn what went into putting the book together.
Dinaw Mengestu is supposed to be part of the discussion, so I always find that makes it so fascinating, to learn what went into putting the book together.
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January 18, 2025A story about immigration, family histories, and breaking generational curses.
This book plays around with timelines, an unreliable narrator, and with real and imagined diversions. You really have to focus to keep everything straight. I was confused and unsure where this book was going until the very end but the final pages brought it all together in a way that was satisfying, emotional, and cathartic.
This book plays around with timelines, an unreliable narrator, and with real and imagined diversions. You really have to focus to keep everything straight. I was confused and unsure where this book was going until the very end but the final pages brought it all together in a way that was satisfying, emotional, and cathartic.
March 22, 2025
There's something inexplicably mesmerizing and propulsive about the prose. Although very little happens in this novel, it is a whole journey.
December 28, 2024
This would be a five-star book if I were smarter. You have no doubt run into unreliable narrators, but have you encountered unreliable narration? Someone Like Us boasts both, which took me an embarrassingly long time to realize. This is a carefully crafted novel where the protagonist's meandering tangents lead the reader into tangled mazes, and he has no intention of helping you get out.
The story itself mirrors that tension, as you quickly realize that everybody is hiding something, and the fact is that we really can't and don't know anybody — even close relatives — as well as we think or would like. This is the author's fourth book; I'll be tracking down his earlier works as soon as I find my way out of here.
The story itself mirrors that tension, as you quickly realize that everybody is hiding something, and the fact is that we really can't and don't know anybody — even close relatives — as well as we think or would like. This is the author's fourth book; I'll be tracking down his earlier works as soon as I find my way out of here.
February 22, 2025
There was some interesting stuff here on what it’s like to be an immigrant. I just struggled to follow it till mostly the end. Probably should re-read the physical copy. Also wouldn’t call this a psychological thriller….. that mislead me sadly
September 6, 2024
The best thing about this book is the author's voice - the language in this book is beautiful. However, the plotting, characterization and themes are a mess.
January 10, 2025
This was a very well written window to a world I do not understand. Because I have no experience with that world, I sometimes struggled with the characters and the book itself, but it was well worth continuing and finishing. This is a book that I would love to discuss.
December 20, 2025
That ending. 💔
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