The Idiot

In a review of a different novel, I scoffed at the idea of writing a book about college students on the premise that they are all awful (they are). I am not opposed to protagonists being bad people, but I do insist that I care about them. Generally speaking, college students care so much about themselves that it is hard to inspire a reader to do the same. Batuman has done a fantastic job of surmounting this obstacle in The Idiot, and her primary tool in doing so is the blinding specificity of the narrator's voice. I don't know that I have ever understood and empathized with a character in literature as well as I did Selin. Other reviewers have complained that “nothing happens,” but while I would agree that the plot is pretty staid, I am an absolute sucker for this type of book. The Idiot reminded me of The End of the Story, by Lydia Davis; My Struggle, by Karl Ove Knausgaard; and The Rum Diary, by Hunter S. Thompson, and it just might be the best of the lot.