This limited edition book tells the story of Koons Crooks' spiritual quest interspersed with hand-drawn recreations of tweets by venture capitalists and startup people. The author and purpose is a mystery - art or a marketing scheme?
The Strange Path of Iterating Grace, Silicon Valley’s Most Vicious Satire
IN LATE JUNE, 140 prominent figures in tech media discovered a small package in the mail. That number was no accident: Inside was a slim chapbook recounting the autobiographical tale of Koons Crooks, a programmer whose religious devotion to the tweets of the Silicon Valley elite leads him to a tragic demise.
The book was an absurd, scathing sature of tech culture, and the people who received it—a group that included Fusion editor Alexis Madrigal, Buzzfeed executive editor Doree Shafrir, and Mother Jones editor Clara Jeffrey–were captivated. As were their Twitter followers. There were obvious questions: Was this a gimmick, an elaborate marketing ploy? A righteous indictment from someone deep within the tech industry? Who wrote this?
Now, you can read the book and start sleuthing yourself. Earlier this week, FSG Originals published Iterating Grace, now available for $8 in a bookstore near you. But the author (or authors) remain anonymous, and not just to you: also to obsessive readers trying to unmask the author; and even to Sean McDonald, who edited and published the book without ever knowing who wrote it.
Decoding Anonymity In the weeks after Iterating Grace reached its initial audience, speculation ran high. Accusations of authorship flew—from BuzzFeed’s Jacob Bakkila to WIRED alum Tim Leong to Robin Sloan, author of Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore.
“I wish I had done it!” says Sloan. “It hurts. Denying it was a little painful, because I wasn’t the one with an idea this creative and vital.”
After Madrigal, Sloan’s neighbor, accused him of writing Iterating Grace, he showed it to his literary agent, Sarah Burnes, and to FSG’s McDonald, who didn’t have high hopes for publication. “I was intrigued by it, but it seemed absurd to me that we could do something with it,” McDonald says. “Its length, its strangeness, not knowing who wrote it—it all seemed insurmountable.”
But Burnes reached out to the email address listed on the original 140 copies. And as long as their anonymity was guaranteed, the authors agreed to a five-figure book deal to publish their work. According to McDonald, only one person in the contracts department at FSG Originals knows who the authors are—and she’s sworn to secrecy.
To date, no one has been able to definitively uncover the identities of the authors, despite endless speculation—which includes one extremely detailed statistical analysis on the text. For his efforts, the authors of Iterating Grace have given that particular fan a wink: The FSG print of the book is dedicated to him.
Parodic Form, and Content The book itself is a tongue-in-cheek takedown of the blind worship of the tech elite, littered with insider references: Koons Crooks shouts commands at his dog in Unix, an operating system popular in the 1980s. He wears a fleece vest from Pixelon, a startup that went bankrupt in 2000. He’s “fully post-meal,” surviving on frozen snack food.
But by omitting their real names, the authors have taken their parody of Silicon Valley’s self-adulation one step further. If published with a conventional byline, the book would still be a satire, but a reader would be engaging with the hyperbolic personal narrative of a known author—which isn’t very different from the VC tweets handwritten into the chapbook. (A sample: Brad Feld’s “Reminder to self: not happy with game: change the game.”)
Because of the pseudonym, the reader is conscripted into a more active role of trying to puzzle out the whodunit—and hopefully recognizing his or her own over-reliance on social media in the process. “If [Koons Crooks] revealed themselves, they’d just be the authors of Iterating Grace,” says Sloan. “By not revealing themselves, they’re remaining the authors of this whole experience.”
Anonymity: An Unlikely Social Media Tool Before the 1800s, authors were often anonymous. (Shakespeare’s name didn’t appear on any plays until 1599, seven years after Henry VI was first performed.) But in recent years, the form of anonymous writing—of letting the written word speak for itself—has fallen out of vogue. Contemporary authors are expected to play a role far after the book goes to print by promoting their work through public appearances and interviews, or suffer financial consequences.
“It’s the economics of publishing,” explains Michael Reynolds, editor-in-chief of Europa Editions, which publishes the best-selling “Neapolitan Novels” under Elena Ferrante’s pseudonym. “If you’re not willing to do live interviews, to go on book tours, on TV, on the radio, then certainly at bigger publishers, that would affect the advances you’re being offered.”
Beyond in-person promotion, authors increasingly must maintain an online presence. This works out well for some authors—just look at how Shea Serrano managed to mobilize a Twitter army 40,000-strong to catapult The Rap Year Book to The New York Times Bestseller List—but writers less adept at self-advertising risk obsolescence.
Serrano’s success came from a cult of personality, from what felt like a personal relationship with thousands of loyal fans. But Koons Crooks and Elena Ferrante suggest that the opposite approach—complete anonymity—offers an alternate path to literary success.
Since her debut novel in 1991, Ferrante has refused to do any promotion or public appearances, insisting that her work should speak for itself. “I believe that books, once they are written, have no need of their authors,” she wrote in a letter to her Italian publisher. “If they have something to say, they will sooner or later find readers; if not, they won’t.” Let the work speak for itself.
“What does that mean for readers, when 95% of their interaction with an author is through the book?” says Reynolds. “By being a successful author who has decided not to participate in promotional activities, [Ferrante] suggests another paradigm for authors”—an alternate route recognized when Foreign Policy Magazine named the anonymous author as one of its leading global figures. (The only other Italian on that list was the Prime Minister.)
In their own way, the authors of Iterating Grace are attempting that same alternate path. “The anonymity forces the conversation to the actual text,” says McDonald. “There’s the mystery, but there’s no cult of personality to it.”
Except, of course, there is a cult of personality to Iterating Grace, as evidenced by the endless speculation and tweets and articles about who the real authors could be. But that’s the point. Rather than obsession with a particular author through social media, anonymity has forced the conversation back on the readers, turning the mirror on our own fixations with innovative ideas and the individuals behind them. Protagonist Koons Crooks mistakenly sought wisdom from the tweets of Paul Graham and Chris Sacca—we look for truth between the lines of Iterating Grace.
A humorous art project? A short story that garnered outsized attention in a certain segment of the press? A laugh out loud satire of all of the above? Who knows. I will say the shit about the llamas is fucking funny.
The story of the publication of this slim volume is what first got me interested in the book. Read up on how this little guy ended up making a big splash in the technology industry as well as the publishing industry before you dive in. It will give you some context for this bizarre story. It takes a few minutes to read and I found myself intrigued by this character - Koons Crooks - and wanting more. If nothing else, you'll be in-the-know regarding a relatively obscure moment in literary history. It's worth a look!
Utterly surreal and delightful satirical – not to mention a beautiful object (although what does one expect from those fine folks at FSG Originals). Who was Koons Crooks? We will never know, even as we read his story. Tweets and ephemera cannot paint us the entire picture of any person – the real is far more unknowable. And perhaps that is his greatest legacy: a cautionary tale.
Apparently you can get a blog post the cites a few tweets published so long as you do it as if it were the 18th century. Bravo who ever you are. My $4.99 salutes you.
It seems like the authors made a list of every single Silicon Valley cliche, from neoprene clothing to Blue Bottle to the obligatory trip to South America to find meaning in life, and found a way to send it up with deadpan flair. Plus, only 18 pages. No excuse not to read.
Review #38 of my 52 week book challenge: Iterating Grace. Until the 1800s, it was commonplace for an author's work to remain anonymous. This might seem like sacrilede in today's society, where we share our deepest and darkest secrets openly. Perhaps that's why the anonymous authors of Iterating Grace did what they did. The entire book, a 2015 Silicon Valley sensation, is a scathing satire of an industry gone haywire. Told through the eyes of a washed-out IT worker who holds tweets as gospel, it's a warning against the idolization of technology and its corrupting effects. Unfortunately, we've not heeded its message. To find out why I started my 52 week book challenge, what I've been reading, and how you can get involved, check out my original LinkedIn Publisher article or follow me.
Koons Crooks is a fanatical devotee of the anodyne advice doled out on Twitter by Silicon Valley venture capitalists; he retreats from society to spend his days transcribing banally 'inspirational' aphorisms in calligraphic lettering (because he heard Steve Jobs was into that). Later, rumours of Crooks' strange behaviour and bizarre demise are passed around San Francisco and make their way to an anonymous editor, who pieces together the tale. In a half-hearted stab at pretending it's a true story, the whole thing is labelled as the work of 'Koons Crooks and Anonymous'.
This wasn't awful or anything, just kind of pointless outside its original context. I know the backstory, but having read the 'book' (very short story), I assume there must be something more I'm not seeing, maybe references that would only make sense to the original recipients. There are a few gently satirical details, but it's just so slight; I certainly wouldn't call it 'vicious' or 'scathing' as the article that first brought it to my attention did. I really should have taken heed of the fact that people suspected Robin Sloan of being the author.
While I second the comments others have made ("not my world", "obviously a marketing ploy", among others), I believe that this work makes fun of itself in such a way that makes it truly important to the history of the technology world. It mocks the longevity of our technology (or lack thereof), it mocks the personalities that have created it, and it touches on what is (perhaps) most important:
That startups are a kind of spiritual exercise.
While we might debate if this is a good spiritual exercise, it has many of the hallmarks of what non-Judeo-Christian religions commonly count as such, namely:
- Ineffability (inability to capture the experience in ordinary language). - Noetic quality (the notion that mystical experiences reveal an otherwise hidden or inaccessible knowledge).
Those 2 are very easily met by a startup - it is impossible to capture the experience in ordinary language, or to even attempt to explain The Struggle. The experiences also reveal hidden or inaccessible knowledge - not just knowledge of the market, the products and technology, but in people. Most notably, it reveals hidden truths about yourself, your best friends (founders), and humanity as a whole.
In short, if you're in tech I strongly recommend reading it. If you aren't, you probably won't get it.
I follow a number of venture capitalists for their tweets / thoughts, one of whom (Paul Graham) is featured in this novel (pamphlet?).
It's true that VCs have become modern-day philosophers, to some extent. I've learned a lot from reading some of the essays they write. Iterating Grace is a parody, yet I embrace the culture it pokes fun at. There are a bunch of obscure, inside jokes about Silicon Valley and its culture. While not a masterpiece, it definitely makes me smile.
I trust most of the $4.99 I spent on the electronic version of this are going to charity water or some similar hot Bay Area charity. Three, maybe two stars for really being an overgrown medium post, I throughly enjoyed this Silicon Valley version of Into the Wild in under 20 pages. That said, I live in Palo Alto and have met several of the VCs whose tweets play a part in the story. If you are outside the tech bubble, don't waste your time.
A funny little tongue-in-cheek short story about the absurdities of Silicon Valley culture. More for insiders than outsiders, I think, but certainly entertaining. Wish there was more.
If you are looking for a longer (fictional) sendup, I recommend Dave Eggers's The Circle.
You can think of this book as a meta-meta commentary. It nails all the startup culture stereotypes while staying seemingly above it all, but when you look at it as a whole, you realise it is as hollow as the tweets/koans in it. Or is it meta-meta-meta? Is there something like infinite meta? Can such an omega-meta object exist? Isn't it meaningless after all?
A very stupid book. It includes a bunch of (images of) idiotic, handwritten quotes, purported to come from people who are all either venture capitalists or they live in that world. Most of them I had never heard of, so I looked them up and recorded what I found on my blog. You can see my notes here.
Short, sweet and very good. "working steadily as a programmer at a string of forgotten startups in the late nineties: Naka, InfoSmudge, BITKIT, Popcairn." Is a wonderful line.
Don't read it unless you've heard the story behind it, and even if you've heard the back story, maybe don't read it. It's interesting, it's just an odd book. I don't even know where to categorize it on my bookshelf.
Well, that went very quickly. If you do one thing today, go buy or sign out this pamphlet. Iterating grace shows us that we take ourselves far too seriously by telling the story of a man who was thrilled to be eaten by llamas.