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A plot is set up, then things happen, and then finally there's a conclusion. That's what makes a story. Right? Wrong.
Michael Lewis is a brilliant writer. He catches the reader's fancy from the get go. But Liar's Poker doesn't really have a plot. It's not based on a singular event -- a market crash, a scam, or whatever. Instead, it's part memoir, part deep look inside the world of investment banking. Or maybe just one investment bank Salomon Brothers, where Lewis worked for ~2 years.
Liar's Poker is a primer into investment banking. He tells it like it is, there's no glorification, and no undue vilification of either the profession or any individual character. He knows how to tell a story, even if there's no plot, and there was not a single page in the book that dragged or felt like it didn't fit.
Most investment bankers, turns out, are just glorified salesmen. Bonds' salesmen, in this particular instance. They call up fund managers and try to feed them shit so that they buy whatever they want to sell. I mean, at least some salesmen do that. Or did that, this book was published decades ago.
Now why would a fund manager buy a bond or some other complex financial instrument out of nowhere 'cause some guy called him to sell it to whom? I really don't know. It's mostly greed. But fund managers do do that (or did that). And the investment banks where these salesmen work are darn fucking rich, so they have darn fucking good images (dapper suits and fancy restaurants help for sure). But the investment banks aren't the fund manager's friends. They're just middlemen with conflicts of interest at every point and you can never be sure of which interest they're furthering at which point in time.
Essentially, unless you're a big, big fish, dealing with investment banks is a massive gamble. They're not out there looking for your interests. As with any agent/broker/middleman.
Lewis intersperses his writing on how investment banks operate with his own moral dilemmas. Bankers love to think that they "deserve" all the money they end up making (hundreds of thousands of dollars, sometimes millions, back in the '80s!). Lewis is unambiguous in his thoughts that he didn't deserve it. He gives us a brief insight into his dilemma in the epilogue and I love the measured, reflective individual I see there.
Undoubtedly a classic for the ages. If you know nothing about finance, read this book, google a little, and you'll come out with both knowledge and emotions (and dazzled by the humour).
Michael Lewis is a brilliant writer. He catches the reader's fancy from the get go. But Liar's Poker doesn't really have a plot. It's not based on a singular event -- a market crash, a scam, or whatever. Instead, it's part memoir, part deep look inside the world of investment banking. Or maybe just one investment bank Salomon Brothers, where Lewis worked for ~2 years.
Liar's Poker is a primer into investment banking. He tells it like it is, there's no glorification, and no undue vilification of either the profession or any individual character. He knows how to tell a story, even if there's no plot, and there was not a single page in the book that dragged or felt like it didn't fit.
Most investment bankers, turns out, are just glorified salesmen. Bonds' salesmen, in this particular instance. They call up fund managers and try to feed them shit so that they buy whatever they want to sell. I mean, at least some salesmen do that. Or did that, this book was published decades ago.
Now why would a fund manager buy a bond or some other complex financial instrument out of nowhere 'cause some guy called him to sell it to whom? I really don't know. It's mostly greed. But fund managers do do that (or did that). And the investment banks where these salesmen work are darn fucking rich, so they have darn fucking good images (dapper suits and fancy restaurants help for sure). But the investment banks aren't the fund manager's friends. They're just middlemen with conflicts of interest at every point and you can never be sure of which interest they're furthering at which point in time.
Essentially, unless you're a big, big fish, dealing with investment banks is a massive gamble. They're not out there looking for your interests. As with any agent/broker/middleman.
Lewis intersperses his writing on how investment banks operate with his own moral dilemmas. Bankers love to think that they "deserve" all the money they end up making (hundreds of thousands of dollars, sometimes millions, back in the '80s!). Lewis is unambiguous in his thoughts that he didn't deserve it. He gives us a brief insight into his dilemma in the epilogue and I love the measured, reflective individual I see there.
Undoubtedly a classic for the ages. If you know nothing about finance, read this book, google a little, and you'll come out with both knowledge and emotions (and dazzled by the humour).