“Rachel Kushner’s second novel, The Flamethrowers, unfolds on a bigger, brighter screen than nearly any recent American novel I can remember. It plays out as if on Imax, or simply higher-grade film stock.
In part it’s the simple fact that Ms. Kushner can really write. Her prose has a poise and wariness and moral graininess that puts you in mind of weary-souled visionaries like Robert Stone and Joan Didion.
This wariness lurks beneath a sensibility that’s on constant alert for crazy, sensual, often ravaged beauty. This is a novel in which a fish’s head on a plate resembles ‘a shorn airplane fuselage.’ An auburn beard tumbles down a man’s chin ‘like hillside erosion.’”
— Dwight Garner, The New York Times
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