"Despite some nice miniatures, a snide, rather pointless, lazy book."
In his fiction (Redback
, 1987; Peeping Tom
, 1985, etc.) and now with this travelogue/sociologue/personalogue about his semi-Jewishness, Jacobson seems fated never quite to cast off the perception of him as a Philip Roth wannabe perpetually one step behind (both in talent and intellectual plasticity) his American master.
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