I truly adored this book. It was Jonathan Franzen's very first novel, and he penned it about his hometown, St. Louis. The connection to St. Louis added an element of fun.

It took me some time to really get into the book and understand what was happening. I suspect part of this could be attributed to the fact that when the novel was initially submitted, it exceeded a thousand pages. Mr. Franzen was promptly informed that it had to be drastically edited before it could be published. I'm not certain whether the author or an editor was responsible for the majority of the editing, but it might have affected the clarity of the book's theme.

Nevertheless, after a while, it became evident that the book was a massive satire, hopefully with a healthy dose of exaggeration, on the worst aspects of politics and the lengths to which individuals would go to achieve their desired goals. Without giving away any spoilers, I found the conclusion to be uproariously funny and极其satisfying. I would most definitely recommend this book.

Before reading this novel, I was among those who thought Franzen was overrated. I had read "The Corrections", "Freedom", and "Purity", and they all seemed too similar. I was on the verge of giving up on Franzen completely.

However, after being given this novel, I decided to give it a chance. To my surprise, I discovered a whole different side of Jonathan Franzen. This book made me understand, although I still don't agree, why his name was often associated with the likes of Pynchon, DeLillo, and DFW.

Perhaps the success of "The Corrections" influenced Franzen to change his writing style. But if he can produce another novel like the one I just finished, I would have yet another writer to eagerly anticipate new releases from.

I now realize that Franzen is a more complex and diverse writer than I initially thought. His works may not always be to my taste, but there is no denying his talent and the impact he has had on the literary world.

Overall, this reading experience has made me more open-minded and willing to explore different works by Franzen in the future.

This couldn't hold my attention very well.

It was too movie-like and confusing, making it difficult for me to fully engage with the story.

I didn't find the conspiracies all that interesting either. I guess I have seen them in too many books and movies, so they seemed rather clichéd to me.

Moreover, concentrating completely on the well-doing people of the city wasn't anything extra-ordinary. It felt like a common theme that I had come across before, lacking in新鲜感 and excitement.

Overall, while the story may have had some elements that could potentially be interesting, it failed to truly capture my interest and keep me hooked from start to finish.

Fake review: How can someone so obviously intelligent be a mere transcriber of platitudes? (quote from the book, btw).

Real review: One of the trademarks of Franzen's writing is the aftertaste of cynicism readily apparent in every one of his rather brilliant psychological insights. So it is hard for the reader not to treat his work with a similar level of hypercriticism.

Like how the friend who makes you laugh the most isn't necessarily going to be a great stand-up comedian, every man or woman with some insight and a quick pen doesn't make a novelist. Since maybe the sixties, we have had many intelligent imposters running around disguised as novelists. Franzen has a natural skill at the Novel, the one of the 1800s. Another metaphor for you: all classical music is called classical, yet that is really a way of deferring to Mozart, choosing him as the definitive artist in the whole history of the so-called classical genre. The same is true of the Novel. That 18th-century kind isn't the only form (and thank god) but it was the peak of a certain type of skill set, one that people rarely have even a rudimentary form of now (hear anybody lately with a Mozartian skill at melody lately?). Well, Franzen, even in this first book, shows the skills of a Tolstoy or an Eliot. Not saying he's as brilliant (he isn't) but he's got that elusive, much cherished skill set.

Also, at the same time, he can write one hell of a page-turner. This book, focused on city politics, has an incredibly boring plot in theory. It almost seems like Franzen chose the most boring plot possible to see if he could make it interesting. For the most part, he succeeds. The labyrinthine journey through the city politics of St. Louis (ugh, I know) is pretty interesting.

This book, being a first novel, is full of mistakes. I think he tried too hard to put everything he knew into one book. And the book really doesn't have to be as long as it is. Franzen obviously hadn't found his voice yet. He uses postmodern tricks, the kind of which are used as a buffer to emotion. He doesn't do them any better or worse than anyone else, they just fit him worse considering how naked he can write human emotion and motivation. But the fact that he hadn't found his voice yet actually works as a strength. The smug self-assurance and hyper-craft of Freedom is nowhere to be found. In its place, you find a youthful enthusiasm that is f'ing refreshing. Freedom felt like the work of a bitter, bitter man. This is the work of someone still enough in the thick of life to, if not know it more, feel it more.

An underrated, overlooked book, but overlooked for perhaps a fair reason. It may have its flaws, but it also shows great promise and a unique talent that is worth exploring further.

Black comedy at its finest!

This particular black comedy is set in the vibrant city of St Louis. The story unfolds against the backdrop of the city's unique charm and character.

The characters in this black comedy are a diverse bunch, each with their own quirks and flaws. They navigate through a series of absurd and often hilarious situations that keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

The humor in this black comedy is sharp and biting, poking fun at the human condition and the absurdities of modern life. It doesn't shy away from tackling difficult topics, but does so in a way that is both entertaining and thought-provoking.

Overall, this black comedy set in St Louis is a must-see for anyone who enjoys a good laugh and a bit of social commentary. It will leave you with a new perspective on life and a smile on your face.

This seems like the book that is most representative of the'maximalist' style that Franzen is labeled as practicing.

He bombards you with just about everything he can think of, including interior monologues, fake letters, and news reports.

Throughout the book, it has a somewhat perfunctory, journalistic feel, despite the numerous stylistic tropes he experiments with.

It takes a while for the story to gain momentum, and he leaves these large, nebulous loops of action that you have to fill in with your own speculations.

For example, is the conspiracy real, and if so, who is really behind it? And who on earth is S. Jammu really?

Most of the time, I found myself only half-interested, but occasionally Franzen would hit the kind of stride that he truly masters in his later books, and I would find myself powerfully engaged in these strange, sad, middle American lives.

This is a very 80's style novel, and I can envision how Franzen might have easily become this odd combination of Don Delillo and Urban Studies writing.

It's a unique and somewhat challenging read that offers a glimpse into Franzen's early development as a writer.

This book is truly a challenge to like.

Not only does it seem overly long (originally a thirteen-hundred-page manuscript (!), and I still believe it could afford to lose a few more pages), but it also presents mysteries that I don't think it successfully resolves.

For example, what exactly is the State? What motivates Jammu's plan to integrate St. Louis city and county? And who are the Osage Warriors?

Moreover, it fails to strike a balance among the numerous characters' narrative lines.

I, for one, was hoping for much more about Luisa and Duane.

From this perspective, it very much resembles a first novel, a work that attempts to do so much that it ends up feeling unfocused and flabby.

The story, such as it is, is a combination of a domestic drama (the kind of thing we actually want Franzen to write, as seen in The Corrections, Freedom, and Crossroads) and an international conspiracy (the kind of thing we don't want him to write, as seen in Purity), centered on the Probst family of St. Louis.

Here, Martin Probst, a highly successful contractor and builder of the Arch, Barbara Probst, an academic librarian, and Luisa Probst, a high school senior and eventual Stanford collegian, feature as the domestic part of the domestic drama.

However, unlike in all of his other novels, the Probsts don't start off as a family in the midst of domestic turmoil.

Rather, the force that tears them apart is S. Jammu, a thirty-five-year-old Indian woman and St. Louis's new chief of police, and her team of secret operatives.

She is the one working to unite St. Louis city and county, revitalize North St. Louis, and bring the city's principal leaders, including Probst, into what is referred to as "the State" (the closest the novel comes to defining this is a description of a state of acceptance regarding the direction of socio-historical events, or the state of accepting such events as fate).

She accomplishes this through bugging, wiretapping, and a whole host of illegal antics that ensure she knows what everyone is up to at all times and thus knows how to manipulate them into doing her bidding.

By the end of the novel, she has obtained all the commitments she needs to begin rebuilding North St. Louis, has forced a vote on uniting the city and county, and has ensnared all of the key players she requires (save one), in addition to ruining Probst's life by killing his dog, estranging his daughter, and kidnapping his wife.

Probst, however, remains steadfast; he refuses to enter into the state.

And this, to me, is the one redeeming aspect of the novel.

Franzen, like his friend Wallace, was not indifferent to the direction of literary thought and sought to intervene in the dead-end nihilism that postmodernism was both confronting and imposing (Less Than Zero was published just three years before this).

So, in his own obscure way, Franzen has created a character in Martin Probst whose resistance to the status quo comes across as heroic - a figure willing to go against the grain in search of a different path.

To this end, it seems significant to me that Probst is not swayed by the many conspiracies that swirl around in the novel, as dedicating himself to any of them would only reproduce the incredulity that gives rise to postmodernism's problems in the first place.

In contrast to the culture's all-too-predictable complacency - as seen here in the failure of the referendum to unite St. Louis city and county (not because the Vote No campaign was stronger or better funded, but because no one bothered to go out and vote. The people, it turns out, didn't really care) - Probst represents something else.

Yet, seeing even this much requires a great deal of effort, making this book difficult to like.

I wish the novel's thematic lines were more clearly drawn, and I want what Probst truly stands for (not just what he doesn't stand for) to be more precisely defined.

There is something here worth exploring, but you have to be willing to dig deep.

This reading is rather unbearable. I gave up at 70%, exhausted from the endless stream of new characters.

After all, it is not by chance that for the general public, Franzen as a writer started with "The Corrections".

The continuous introduction of new characters makes it difficult for readers to keep up and form a clear understanding of the story. It seems that the author is more focused on presenting a complex web of characters rather than telling a coherent and engaging narrative.

Perhaps "The Corrections" was a breakthrough for Franzen, but this particular work fails to hold the reader's attention and interest. It leaves one with a sense of dissatisfaction and a longing for a more straightforward and enjoyable reading experience.

It is commonly claimed (and I concur) that Franzen is America's premier contemporary writer, yet it is also often asserted that this is his worst book - one that he has even somewhat distanced himself from. (It's a bold move for a writer to label one of their own works as bad…) In fact, I derived a great deal of enjoyment from this book, right up until the last hundred pages or so. Without revealing any spoilers, it took a rather dramatic turn, unravelling a principal character and subjecting another to psychological torture and murder. This felt so unjust and pointless that I was unable to fully appreciate the novel's main point, which I believe was related to the apathy and dullness of 1980s America. The citizens of that era had become preoccupied with materialism and anomie, and no longer cared about nuclear war, civic engagement, or social justice. Young Franzen (who was 25 when this was published) aimed to write a Pynchonesque "systems novel",描绘 St. Louis on multiple levels, through the business elite, police force, ghetto, malls, youth culture, etc., and how all of these elements interacted. I actually found the details about municipal ordinances and tax incentives quite engaging, adding a surprising level of detail that enhanced my immersion in the novel's main plot (a strange conspiracy by Indian expats to gentrify the downtown area through bribery, blackmail, and other underhanded tactics). However, with the exception of the main character, Martin Probst - a typical Franzen patriarchal archetype: dour, taciturn, frugal, analytical, principled, and Republican - most of the characters were flimsy and comical. As the author advanced in his career, he wisely focused on his core strength, creating complex and claustrophobic portraits of family life.

Side note: After reading this, I listened to some of this Franzen podcast, where several writers analysed their love-hate relationship with the cantankerous 800-pound gorilla of American letters by reading all his books in sequence. In one episode, the always brilliant Nell Zink mentioned an idea she calls (following David Foster Wallace) "lexical genius", a fallacy that writers believe: that knowing the precise term in the English language for everything in the world is valuable or a substitute for genuine insight. She may be right, but this is also something I truly appreciate in writers, and few do it well. (This book taught me the etymology of Velcro!) I recall first encountering it in this charming scene in DeLillo's Underworld.

In the scene, a teacher challenges a student to name the parts of his shoe. The student struggles at first but gradually manages to identify some of the parts. The teacher then proceeds to name the remaining parts, such as the cuff, counter, quarter, welt, vamp, eyelet, aglet, grommet, and last. This exchange highlights the importance of knowing the names of everyday things and how they can enhance our understanding of the world around us. It also shows how language can be used to reveal hidden knowledge and add depth to our perception of the commonplace.

While I did indeed discover certain flaws within this book, I still derived as much enjoyment from it as I have from Franzen's other literary works. The newly appointed Police chief, S. Jammu, has a burning desire to pass laws in the city of St. Louis, and she is completely unfazed by whatever means she has to employ to ensure their fruition. Terrorist attacks, bombs, shootings - none of these pose a problem for her. Enlisting a hit man like Singh to spy on and meddle with people is perfectly acceptable in her eyes. The primary target of her attacks is the Probst family. Although she and Singh hold them in contempt, they secretly envy the Probsts' family bond. They can attempt to disrupt and shatter this bond, but they are unable to forge such a connection for themselves. Franzen vividly conjures up the concept of a surveillance state that would potentially emerge just a few years after the publication of this book. It is not difficult to draw parallels between the actions of Jammu and Singh and those of the Bush administration. However, time and time again, they are presented with evidence that they are being watched. I, for one, couldn't help but wonder why Probst and his family refuse to believe it. It almost seems like an illogical plot device. Nevertheless, despite this minor drawback, I still found the book to be highly interesting and thought-provoking.

You know that thing where a band says the name of the town they're in and it's guaranteed to get a cheer?

Well, this book clearly has its imperfections. However, I still felt extremely fortunate to have read such an ambitious and enjoyable book that is set in - and dedicated to conducting really strange thought experiments about - my hometown.

I was not oblivious to the fact that the prose sometimes fell flat, that J.F. was gingerly navigating through some rather tricky minefields (not always with success), and that the book really could use some trimming.

But it also managed to engage me to such an extent that I was almost always willing to persevere. I'm not suggesting that a book's flaws disappear if it makes you do the Leonardo-DiCaprio-pointing-at-the-TV meme, but I guess it is a good argument for effectively recreating a sense of place.

Also, once again, this book is just adventurous, zany, and pulpy enough that I appreciated seeing it soar through the Arch, regardless of whether it lands gracefully.

(For context, I haven't read any other Franzen books. I will admit that there was a moment when I felt like I was struggling to make progress in this book, but that's mainly because I was reading it on a Kindle and didn't realize until I was halfway through that it was 500 pages. Some passages definitely dragged, but it moved around enough to rejuvenate my attention span. Wait, but who was the Veiled Prophet at the start??? Buzz?)

Harizmatična S. Džamu arrives right from Bombay and becomes the police chief in American St. Louis. However, her political ambitions don't stop there. The main obstacle to her plans is Martin Probst, an unusually honest and unmarried construction magnate. His ethical instinct and conservatism clash with her network of highly trained operatives, Indian big capital, and personal charm.

Of course, in Franzen's first novel, there is much more postmodernism than the social realism we know from Freedom and Corrections. Besides being set in his hometown of St. Louis, the book is also about his literary heroes from his youth. There is a lot of Pynchon, DeLillo, or Rushdie, their conspiracy theories, detective plots, and postcolonial politics. And yet, in many ways, the book is not very different from his later ones: the style is almost completely explosive, the characters are well-developed (with some real gems), and once again, at least one character in Franzen's novel is a bird lover! However, the main thread that probably connects all of this writer's novels (I haven't read Strong Motion) is his obsessive need to throw a morally perfect person into difficult trials and see how they will manage. This is, as always, the central theme.

Although not without flaws (the almost surreal story doesn't help the reader to emotionally engage with the situation), this is a quite successful book. I would even say that The Twenty-Seventh City is a better novel than Purity, in which, unfortunately, he deviated from some of the principles he developed so well in Corrections and Freedom.

As far as I know, the book has not been published in our language.