Only Americans Burn in Hell by Jarett Kobek
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

An Advertisement For Me

Jarett Kobek dislikes many people: heterosexual men because of what they do to women; the rich because of their lack of taste; politicians because they have no souls; users of social media because it gives a voice to stupidity; Christians because their beliefs about love have caused tens of millions to die through their hatred; liberals because they promote war; Jeff Bezos because he touches on all his other dislikes; and Donald Trump because… well just because.

I share these dislikes. So it is with shock and horror that I come to learn that Kobek also dislikes me. He’s never met me but he knows who I am. I’m reading his book. That’s enough for him to despise me: “I’ve duped you into buying my turgid work.” That’s not even on the cover blurb. I feel well and truly ambushed. He does relieve the shame a smidge by qualifying his condemnation: “Unless you’ve pirated this book. If you have, then good for you!” I did. So the pain of victimisation eased a little.

But Kobek doesn’t stop there. He also knows that I’m going to write something about him. This alone puts me on the top of his hate list, up there with Bezos and Trump: “I don’t blame anyone for getting addicted to their smartphones. I only blame people for their terrible attempts at reviewing my work.” And not in some literary space with editors and other writers who can impose some standards of grammar and imagination about what I might write. No, my comments, he knows, will be “in cheap little reviews on Goodreads.com and Amazon.com.” Talk about surveillance! Kobek must have agents everywhere. I can’t seem to find a hole hidden enough to escape.

It’s obvious I’m trapped by Kobek’s omniscient gaze. I can only submit. “Everything’s an advertisement,” he says. Of course. So obvious, but only once it’s said.. Everyone has an angle, is on the make, wants to separate someone else from their cash, and probably lusts after tickets to a revival Guns n’ Roses concert. Oh my God, that’s it: I want to be Jarett Kobek. But Kobek wants to be Kurt Vonnegut, a guy who never advertises. I think I’m too old for this. Someone please tell me what it all means.

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