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From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant
Fashionistas and g-men clash in a mastermindful debut
Boyet Hernandez is a small man with a big American dream when he arrives in New York in 2002, fresh out of fashion school in the Philippines. But on the brink of fame and fortune, there comes instead a knock on the door in the middle of the night: the flamboyant ex-Catholic is swept to America’s most notorious prison, administered a Qur’an and locked away indefinitely to discover his link to a terrorist plot.
Now, in his six-by-eight-foot cell, Boy prepares for the tribunal of his life with this intimate confession. From borrowed mattress to converted toothpick factory loft, from custom suit commissions to high-end retail, we are immersed in a wonderland of soirees, runways, and hipster romance in twenty-first-century Gotham. Boy is equally at home (if sometimes comically misinformed) invoking Dostoevsky and Diane von Furstenberg, the Marcos tyranny and Marc Jacobs, the vicissitudes of memory and the indignity of the walking sandwich board. But behind the scrim of his wit and chutzpah is his present nightmare of detainment in the sun-baked place he calls No Man’s Land. The more Boy’s faith in American justice is usurped by the Kafkaesque demands of his interrogator, the more ardently he clings to the chimerical hope and humanity of his adoptive country.
Funny, wise and beguiling, From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant gives us a tale so eerily evocative that it, and its hero, are poised to become an indelible part of the reader’s imagination and the literature of our strange times.
Boyet Hernandez is a small man with a big American dream when he arrives in New York in 2002, fresh out of fashion school in the Philippines. But on the brink of fame and fortune, there comes instead a knock on the door in the middle of the night: the flamboyant ex-Catholic is swept to America’s most notorious prison, administered a Qur’an and locked away indefinitely to discover his link to a terrorist plot.
Now, in his six-by-eight-foot cell, Boy prepares for the tribunal of his life with this intimate confession. From borrowed mattress to converted toothpick factory loft, from custom suit commissions to high-end retail, we are immersed in a wonderland of soirees, runways, and hipster romance in twenty-first-century Gotham. Boy is equally at home (if sometimes comically misinformed) invoking Dostoevsky and Diane von Furstenberg, the Marcos tyranny and Marc Jacobs, the vicissitudes of memory and the indignity of the walking sandwich board. But behind the scrim of his wit and chutzpah is his present nightmare of detainment in the sun-baked place he calls No Man’s Land. The more Boy’s faith in American justice is usurped by the Kafkaesque demands of his interrogator, the more ardently he clings to the chimerical hope and humanity of his adoptive country.
Funny, wise and beguiling, From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant gives us a tale so eerily evocative that it, and its hero, are poised to become an indelible part of the reader’s imagination and the literature of our strange times.
302 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2012
21 people are currently reading
1401 people want to read
About the author
Alex Gilvarry
7 books84 followersI'm the author of EASTMAN WAS HERE, a love story, and FROM THE MEMOIRS OF A NON-ENEMY COMBATANT.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 117 reviews
December 15, 2011
That's right, I reviewed my own book.
February 6, 2015
When Boy Hernandez talks about fashion, it's physics to me. I don't know what in the world is a burka or if the sequin I have in mind is the same sequin he speaks of. In truth, I only know little- and that's an overstatement for I probably know nothing- of the composite parts of the fashion industry, or the fashion "way of life," to conceive most of the images fictional Boy has been shooting off my way. But then I know passion (no P/Filipino joke intended). And Boy has that. I generally enjoy how creative characters seize ideas and how they ultimately actualize it regardless of the elements that are working against them. And in part, I love the fantastical time of fiction when things happen because they are meant to. Not so much in real life (take note of my bitterness, now ignore it). For instance, Boy's dream swept him to America. He hasn't anything when he arrives in New York that is certain save that dream to showcase his collection at Bryant Park. He has many things going against him but he meets the ever-suspicious Ahmed, who is probably Canadian, but regardless, he has a proposition, and a bank, that Boy can't easily turn down. His conscious effort to brush off his suspicions will eventually put him through hell in the form of Guantanamo Prison.
Boy's recollections of the events from the moment he was introduced into the fashion industry to his life as a detainee and all the shades in between are all disclosed intimately and in a character voice of someone who has clawed his way to the top only to have his fingers pried from its clutch when he's almost there.
I have always been fascinated by books that are part literary and part documentation for they generally provide a sense of authenticity. In this case, the "documentation" comes in the form of footnotes which, by the way, are both helpful and comedic. I love those fictional corrections. They make this fictional memoirs both real and an experience.
Boy's recollections of the events from the moment he was introduced into the fashion industry to his life as a detainee and all the shades in between are all disclosed intimately and in a character voice of someone who has clawed his way to the top only to have his fingers pried from its clutch when he's almost there.
I have always been fascinated by books that are part literary and part documentation for they generally provide a sense of authenticity. In this case, the "documentation" comes in the form of footnotes which, by the way, are both helpful and comedic. I love those fictional corrections. They make this fictional memoirs both real and an experience.
March 26, 2012
POSSIBLE SPOILERS BELOW:
1. First of all: the sheer chutzpah, to write a comedy about Guantanamo. But comedy it is: Boyet (Boy) Hernandez, just-off-the-jet fashion designer from the Philippines and armed with a degree from the Fashion Institute of Makati; landing wide-eyed and hungry in New York to get the "dollar dollar bill y'all;" roaming through an underworld filled with exotic models, Williamsburg hipsters, and bad performance art; then, in a narrative shift worthy of a comedy of (t)errors, arrested and spirited away to Guantanamo as a "fashion terrorist." A comedy set in Guantanamo is too soon, one might say, but as the detention camp just celebrated its tenth birthday, one may argue that remembering it is not soon enough.
But is it funny? Oh yes, often hilariously, but sometimes, smugly so. (More about this later.) The novel is, at its core, a stinging sendup of the fashion industry (though all I know of Fashion Week, on which Boy's labors are focused, is when the inevitable profiles of designers appear in The New Yorker: its apparent shallowness, the skipping-song rhythm of the names of its Eastern European denizens ("Olya and Dasha, Irina, Karina, Marijka, Kasha, Masha"), couture's pretense to (political) relevance. (One of Boy's runway creations, a transparent burka -- worn by a model clad only in pasties and a thong, no less -- is described by Boy as "exploring our collective fears about Islam.")
But there's empathy, too, and perhaps even admiration, for the vision, and for the hustle, and one detects, in Gilvarry's vivid and detailed prose, a more affectionate undercurrent. (The novel is also, in many ways, a love letter to New York City and its boroughs -- well, some of them.)
2. One of the interesting things about the novel is how it dispenses, in a sense, with the cliches those on the outside "know" as prison life: no cafeteria scenes, no trading for cigarettes, no escape. Since Boy is guarded 24/7, there is hardly any interaction with other prisoners (they're disembodied voices, almost), and so interminable stretches of time are necessarily spent with only a guard or an interrogator, or the spectral designers, ex-girlfriends, and social climbers that haunt his memoir. Gilvarry simply sits back here and makes the reader wonder whose company is worse.
3. So it isn't like a Solzhenitsyn novel by any means, but in this "memoir" Gilvarry has a deft way of tightening the noose around Boy (and the reader), so to speak. The laughs are broad, and come easy, sometimes too easy, at the start. When we discover that Boy has hired a publicist named Ben Laden (changed by his Irish grandfather from McLaden, who was tired of being called Mac), we know exactly where it's going.
Even the privations of Boy's isolation in Guantanamo have a mock-despairing quality to them; it helps a lot, too, that Gilvarry has written Boy's character as not particularly likable, and callous about his quest for capital. One of Boy's first actions upon arrival at the prison is to cut off the sleeves from his orange jumpsuit, which he later refers to as his "sleeveless top." ("Never before in my life have I had to wear the same thing every day," he complains.) But slowly, the grimness increases, until the reader is forced to reassess the humor of the beginning.
4. Yes, the narrative twists are artificial, but surely no more so than the legal contrivances of military lawyers who argued for the constitutionality of extraordinary rendition and the suspension of habeas corpus, among others. The absurdities of Bryant Park fall away, to be replaced with the even greater lunacy that is Guantanamo.
5. SPOILERS FOLLOW:
I was chatting on Twitter with someone who thought the ending -- I had in mind the 25-page afterword, written by Gil Johannessen -- was an abrupt shift in tone. (It's a rude and sudden shift in perspective too.) But it's significant that the memoir ends once pen and paper are taken away from Boy; the absence that we experience is Boy's voice, literally, taken away from him, and the reader.
Someone else has to speak for Boy at this point; the body, under torture, cannot speak except for its scars. Boy's inevitable torture is left only to the imagination; we may casually toss around adjectives like "unimaginable," but it's precisely that gap in the narrative that serves to highlight the work of imagining for which the reader is responsible.
6. I'm not sure I like how those footnotes function, though. Some are corrections to quote attribution, some are additions of detail, but some just seem plain smug. (I won't ruin a particularly funny footnote regarding Dostoevsky though.) But this has the effect of undercutting Boy's voice, its perceived veracity being the raison d'etre of the memoir. Indeed -- and this perception is enhanced by the fact that "Gil Johannessen" and Alex Gilvarry share a syllable -- these footnotes seem to be the explicit moments where the protagonist is being ridiculed, if gently. The fact that they mostly serve to point out mistakes in Boy's cultural literacy don't always seem very fair.
7. I met Alex Gilvarry at a book reading he gave in San Francisco last month. Upon hearing that I was born and raised in the Philippines, he said he'd be curious to know what I thought of the novel, given that perspective. Obviously I enjoyed the book, as you can see above, but I'm not still quite sure what he meant.
On my blog and elsewhere I generally take pains to use words like "authenticity" and "accuracy" as concepts to be analyzed, not as criteria or values to be assessed, and so the portrayal of Gilvarry's imagined Philippines is his own. But there's a sense in which Boy's Filipinoness is, in an odd way, merely part of the window dressing, pun intended; it's not really necessary to the plot. Boy's instant assimilation and cultural cosmopolitanism, despite all the misquotes, brands him as one of those semi-mythic elite, globe-trotting sophisticates, ignorant of terrestrial sovereignties, unbothered by petty nationalisms, and whose allegiances lie more along class lines and the capacity to consume. But Boy seems, at least as far as his character is willing to reveal, of squarely middle-class background in the Philippines.
I also find it somewhat hard to believe that Boy, in his six-by-eight-foot cell, wouldn't entertain memories of his homeland, which hardly figures in his reminiscences at all; when he closes his eyes and thinks of his "former life," it's a "fall fashion week in New York City" instead. But I guess that's the kind of man Boy is.
[Also crossposted on my blog, The Wily Filipino.]
1. First of all: the sheer chutzpah, to write a comedy about Guantanamo. But comedy it is: Boyet (Boy) Hernandez, just-off-the-jet fashion designer from the Philippines and armed with a degree from the Fashion Institute of Makati; landing wide-eyed and hungry in New York to get the "dollar dollar bill y'all;" roaming through an underworld filled with exotic models, Williamsburg hipsters, and bad performance art; then, in a narrative shift worthy of a comedy of (t)errors, arrested and spirited away to Guantanamo as a "fashion terrorist." A comedy set in Guantanamo is too soon, one might say, but as the detention camp just celebrated its tenth birthday, one may argue that remembering it is not soon enough.
But is it funny? Oh yes, often hilariously, but sometimes, smugly so. (More about this later.) The novel is, at its core, a stinging sendup of the fashion industry (though all I know of Fashion Week, on which Boy's labors are focused, is when the inevitable profiles of designers appear in The New Yorker: its apparent shallowness, the skipping-song rhythm of the names of its Eastern European denizens ("Olya and Dasha, Irina, Karina, Marijka, Kasha, Masha"), couture's pretense to (political) relevance. (One of Boy's runway creations, a transparent burka -- worn by a model clad only in pasties and a thong, no less -- is described by Boy as "exploring our collective fears about Islam.")
But there's empathy, too, and perhaps even admiration, for the vision, and for the hustle, and one detects, in Gilvarry's vivid and detailed prose, a more affectionate undercurrent. (The novel is also, in many ways, a love letter to New York City and its boroughs -- well, some of them.)
2. One of the interesting things about the novel is how it dispenses, in a sense, with the cliches those on the outside "know" as prison life: no cafeteria scenes, no trading for cigarettes, no escape. Since Boy is guarded 24/7, there is hardly any interaction with other prisoners (they're disembodied voices, almost), and so interminable stretches of time are necessarily spent with only a guard or an interrogator, or the spectral designers, ex-girlfriends, and social climbers that haunt his memoir. Gilvarry simply sits back here and makes the reader wonder whose company is worse.
3. So it isn't like a Solzhenitsyn novel by any means, but in this "memoir" Gilvarry has a deft way of tightening the noose around Boy (and the reader), so to speak. The laughs are broad, and come easy, sometimes too easy, at the start. When we discover that Boy has hired a publicist named Ben Laden (changed by his Irish grandfather from McLaden, who was tired of being called Mac), we know exactly where it's going.
Even the privations of Boy's isolation in Guantanamo have a mock-despairing quality to them; it helps a lot, too, that Gilvarry has written Boy's character as not particularly likable, and callous about his quest for capital. One of Boy's first actions upon arrival at the prison is to cut off the sleeves from his orange jumpsuit, which he later refers to as his "sleeveless top." ("Never before in my life have I had to wear the same thing every day," he complains.) But slowly, the grimness increases, until the reader is forced to reassess the humor of the beginning.
4. Yes, the narrative twists are artificial, but surely no more so than the legal contrivances of military lawyers who argued for the constitutionality of extraordinary rendition and the suspension of habeas corpus, among others. The absurdities of Bryant Park fall away, to be replaced with the even greater lunacy that is Guantanamo.
5. SPOILERS FOLLOW:
I was chatting on Twitter with someone who thought the ending -- I had in mind the 25-page afterword, written by Gil Johannessen -- was an abrupt shift in tone. (It's a rude and sudden shift in perspective too.) But it's significant that the memoir ends once pen and paper are taken away from Boy; the absence that we experience is Boy's voice, literally, taken away from him, and the reader.
Someone else has to speak for Boy at this point; the body, under torture, cannot speak except for its scars. Boy's inevitable torture is left only to the imagination; we may casually toss around adjectives like "unimaginable," but it's precisely that gap in the narrative that serves to highlight the work of imagining for which the reader is responsible.
6. I'm not sure I like how those footnotes function, though. Some are corrections to quote attribution, some are additions of detail, but some just seem plain smug. (I won't ruin a particularly funny footnote regarding Dostoevsky though.) But this has the effect of undercutting Boy's voice, its perceived veracity being the raison d'etre of the memoir. Indeed -- and this perception is enhanced by the fact that "Gil Johannessen" and Alex Gilvarry share a syllable -- these footnotes seem to be the explicit moments where the protagonist is being ridiculed, if gently. The fact that they mostly serve to point out mistakes in Boy's cultural literacy don't always seem very fair.
7. I met Alex Gilvarry at a book reading he gave in San Francisco last month. Upon hearing that I was born and raised in the Philippines, he said he'd be curious to know what I thought of the novel, given that perspective. Obviously I enjoyed the book, as you can see above, but I'm not still quite sure what he meant.
On my blog and elsewhere I generally take pains to use words like "authenticity" and "accuracy" as concepts to be analyzed, not as criteria or values to be assessed, and so the portrayal of Gilvarry's imagined Philippines is his own. But there's a sense in which Boy's Filipinoness is, in an odd way, merely part of the window dressing, pun intended; it's not really necessary to the plot. Boy's instant assimilation and cultural cosmopolitanism, despite all the misquotes, brands him as one of those semi-mythic elite, globe-trotting sophisticates, ignorant of terrestrial sovereignties, unbothered by petty nationalisms, and whose allegiances lie more along class lines and the capacity to consume. But Boy seems, at least as far as his character is willing to reveal, of squarely middle-class background in the Philippines.
I also find it somewhat hard to believe that Boy, in his six-by-eight-foot cell, wouldn't entertain memories of his homeland, which hardly figures in his reminiscences at all; when he closes his eyes and thinks of his "former life," it's a "fall fashion week in New York City" instead. But I guess that's the kind of man Boy is.
[Also crossposted on my blog, The Wily Filipino.]
January 20, 2014
This is a damn good, entertaining book! The writing is clean and charismatic, with a hip flare similarly found in Junot Diaz novels. It is a rarity for me to digest a book in a few days, but the sensual experience and perceptiveness of Boy Hernandez, a young filipino immigrant just trying to make it in America as a fashion designer, is really engrossing. It is comprised of interesting tales of love and ambition that hit close to home for any hopeless romantic, and of a shadowy world of indefinite detentions, extraordinary renditions, and crushing despair. I enjoyed this book a lot.
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December 19, 2011a staggering work of political hilarity
January 13, 2012
Alex Gilvarry has written an absolutely brilliant and entertaining novel. The premise is so outlandish – he combines a humorous satirical look at the fashion industry with eye-opening insights into the way “detainees” are treated at Guantanamo Prison. It doesn’t seem possible that these two storylines could be joined together in an interesting and compelling way, but Gilvarry does it. The book is written as the confession of Boy Hernandez, a Filipino immigrant with dreams of becoming a world famous designer. For most of the book, we learn of Boy’s journey from a Manila fashion school, where he was the second best student to a rival who hit the big time fast, to the streets of New York, where he arrives nearly penniless but dreams of the day when he’ll be able to showcase his own designs during Fashion Week at Bryant Park. When he stumbles upon a neighbor who offers to bankroll his ambitions, he willfully keeps a blind eye to that man’s shady business dealings. When his new partner, Ahmed, turns out to be an arms dealer, Boy, gets caught up in the post 911 paranoia and ends up in Guantanamo and has to write this confession to try to prove his innocence. Gilvarry’s portrayal of a designer’s mind – the way he looks at clothes, the way he brainstorms new ideas, and all the connections he has to leverage to make inroads into the business are fascinatingly portrayed. You learn a lot about how clothing designers think and develop their ideas. And Boy’s voice is so wonderfully unique. He has a humorously fragile ego – with all of his petty jealousies with his rivals are right at the forefront – but then he turns into a powerful voice of innocent victims as he describes the brutal and unforgiving ways that prisoners are treated by the government when fear provides them with the justifications to ignore the guidelines for humane treatment set forth by the Constitution and Geneva Convention. This book is so unique and so entertaining, I highly recommend it.
December 22, 2011
This is a bit out of my normal range of reading. This is not just because I have been reading so much YA literature, but also because I generally try to avoid anything political. However, when I got an offer to review this book, I took it, since who doesn't love a free book. Besides, it's always (note: this is hyperbole) good to push your boundaries and leave your comfort zone. I am so glad I did.
From the first, I loved this book. Boy has such a clear strong voice and a wonderful sense of humor, despite the darkness of many sections of the story. The bulk of the book is his confession to his interrogators, alternating between his current thoughts at the time and his memories of events in roughly chronological order. There are also humorous footnotes here and there that contain a fashion magazine writer's notes on what Boy got wrong in his statement.
From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant is like Ugly Betty meets Little Brother. What makes everything in this book so painful, and not just because you're laughing so hard at the dark humor, is that it is believable. I can totally imagine our government mistakenly ruining an innocent man's life and never owning up to their errors.
This is a most excellent read that I recommend highly to those who fear our country may be turning into a dystopia, who love black comedy, or adore high fashion.
From the first, I loved this book. Boy has such a clear strong voice and a wonderful sense of humor, despite the darkness of many sections of the story. The bulk of the book is his confession to his interrogators, alternating between his current thoughts at the time and his memories of events in roughly chronological order. There are also humorous footnotes here and there that contain a fashion magazine writer's notes on what Boy got wrong in his statement.
From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant is like Ugly Betty meets Little Brother. What makes everything in this book so painful, and not just because you're laughing so hard at the dark humor, is that it is believable. I can totally imagine our government mistakenly ruining an innocent man's life and never owning up to their errors.
This is a most excellent read that I recommend highly to those who fear our country may be turning into a dystopia, who love black comedy, or adore high fashion.
August 10, 2016
Alex Gilvarry writes a very good tongue-in-cheek modern social commentary. The premise itself is a little nutty, as aspiring fashion designer Boyet (call him Boy) Hernandez bumbles his way into trouble with homeland security and earns a one-way ticket to Gitmo.
This debut novel is amusing and engaging. I like Gilvarry's writing style, although his pacing isn't the fastest, his characters are real, rounded and believable. It is their quirks and foibles that make up the story line as everything that could go wrong, does. The characters aren't always the most sympathetic, and at times you would just like to reach out and smack them so they would smarten up. But you can't help but root for Boy, and try to wave at him frantically as he naively entangles himself with unsavoury business partners and destructive girlfriends.
Thanks to Penguin for an Advance Readers Copy of the book. I am looking forward to seeing what Alex Gilvarry does next.
This debut novel is amusing and engaging. I like Gilvarry's writing style, although his pacing isn't the fastest, his characters are real, rounded and believable. It is their quirks and foibles that make up the story line as everything that could go wrong, does. The characters aren't always the most sympathetic, and at times you would just like to reach out and smack them so they would smarten up. But you can't help but root for Boy, and try to wave at him frantically as he naively entangles himself with unsavoury business partners and destructive girlfriends.
Thanks to Penguin for an Advance Readers Copy of the book. I am looking forward to seeing what Alex Gilvarry does next.
February 23, 2012
From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant by Alex Gilvarry (Viking; 302 pages; $26.95).
In Alex Gilvarry's first novel From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant, his main character, Boyet Hernandez, is accused of terrorism and thrown into Guantánamo Bay. The kicker is that Boy is a fashion designer from the Philippines who loves America and would never even hurt a fly. Mr. Gilvarry uses irony and absurdity in his timely debut, while at the same time he shows the injustice of detaining and imprisoning many so-called "enemy" combatants who are anything but. Everything leads up to the "Overwhelming Event," when government officials burst into his apartment in the middle of the night.
For the first 274 pages, Boy presents us a memoir of his time in New York City, the capital of the fashion world, and how he became a prisoner at Gitmo. Boy, though, assures us he would never "raise a hand in anger against America." He loves America, "the golden bastard." It is, he surmises, where he is born again, "propelled through the duct of JFK International, out the rotating doors, push, push, dripping a post-U.S. Customs sweat" down his back, and "slithering out" on his feet on a curb in Queens. Even after he is unfairly imprisoned, Boy still loves America and Americans: "And even after the torment they've put me through—tossing me into this little cell in No Man's Land—would you believe that I still hold America close to my heart?"
Mr. Gilvarry gives us wonderful foreshadowing when Boy arrives in New York on September 13, 2002, exactly one year and two days after the 9/11 terrorist attack. Boy seeks out the Statue of Liberty, that New York landmark symbolic of freedom for all. His spirits slump when he sees "she was in mourning." A "black veil" covers the face of Lady Liberty. The Statue of Liberty is undergoing restoration at the time of Boy's arrival and is closed. Therefore, Boy does not see her in all her glory. She does not welcome him as he thinks she will. This does not bode well for Boy.
More than anything in the world, Boy wants to become a great fashion designer. He admires Coco Chanel and is a little jealous of Philip Tang, his rival back in fashion school in the Philippines who has made quite a name for himself in fashion. Boy's problem is that he has little money. He meets a man in the same building he lives in, Ahmed Qureshi, who tells Boy that he is from Canada. Qureshi asks Boy to make two suits for him; Qureshi likes the suits so much that he offers to provide Boy the capital he needs to start his own business: (B)oy. Of course, Boy accepts. Ultimately, Boy succeeds; his business thrives and anybody who is anyone wants to wear his clothes.
Mr. Gilvarry shows us the innocence of Boy, even in a city like New York. Boy does not question where Qureshi gets his money. When Qureshi obviously makes things up to explain away his business ventures, Boy accepts. Boy desperately needs the money, you see, and how Qureshi gets it is of little interest to him.
One day, Boy goes to Qureshi's. He needs yet more money because Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman order a new line. Qureshi has bags and bags of fertilizer in his apartment. This would certainly tip me off, but not Boy. It is almost comical how he does not see what is right under his nose. Boy explains, "Now from the perspective of an innocent man—my perspective—there was nothing too unusual about this. Ahmed always had things in bulk coming and going."
Imagine Boy's surprise when Qureshi is picked up for being an arms dealer! But Mr. Gilvarry takes it even further. Qureshi tries to save himself. He is not a terrorist, he is not planning on blowing up America, oh no. Qureshi instead accuses Boy and tells the government that Boy is behind it all and that he is simply masquerading as a fashion designer so he can blow up everyone during Fashion Week. That Boy's publicist is named Ben Laden does not help matters either.
And so it happens--in the middle of the night, government officials come for Boy. They put a black bag over his head and do not ask questions. Within just a few days, authorities have Boy in prison in No Man's Land in Gitmo. His cries of innocence fall on deaf ears. His captors are convinced that Boy is lying and is, in fact, the mastermind of a proposed terrorist plot. There is a lot of hilarity here, especially when Boy's ex writes a play about him, starring Lou Diamond Phillips.
If the plot sounds absurd to you, that is the point. The story is absurd and speaks to recent U.S. history when this very thing occurred. Unjustly imprisoning people like Boy is a black spot on our country, though. Mr. Gilvarry may write with irreverence but he also makes a statement, and a very strong one at that. His use of satire works well here. Boy, a diminutive fashion designer from the Philippines, who loves America, a terrorist? Of course it is just laughable.
On page 275, Mr. Gilvarry throws a curve ball. The rest of the novel is an afterword, written by Gil Johannessen. I find I do not like the end of the book. I miss Boy's distinctive voice. I do not know Gil; I do not trust him; I do not connect with him. Gil proceeds to tell the rest of Boy's story. I wish Mr. Gilvarry had not chosen to end like this. In the afterword, Boy has changed. He has returned to Manila and is cross-dressing in an attempt to confuse anyone who might be following him. Boy has been through a lot, yet I dispute the fact that this man who once loved women so much, according to his own admission, that he would be dating a transgender singer. It is too much of a stretch for me to believe this. Although I do not care for the end, it does nothing to dampen my spirit for this timely debut.
Mr. Gilvarry proves he is an up-and-coming author with From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant. I cannot wait to read more from him.
In Alex Gilvarry's first novel From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant, his main character, Boyet Hernandez, is accused of terrorism and thrown into Guantánamo Bay. The kicker is that Boy is a fashion designer from the Philippines who loves America and would never even hurt a fly. Mr. Gilvarry uses irony and absurdity in his timely debut, while at the same time he shows the injustice of detaining and imprisoning many so-called "enemy" combatants who are anything but. Everything leads up to the "Overwhelming Event," when government officials burst into his apartment in the middle of the night.
For the first 274 pages, Boy presents us a memoir of his time in New York City, the capital of the fashion world, and how he became a prisoner at Gitmo. Boy, though, assures us he would never "raise a hand in anger against America." He loves America, "the golden bastard." It is, he surmises, where he is born again, "propelled through the duct of JFK International, out the rotating doors, push, push, dripping a post-U.S. Customs sweat" down his back, and "slithering out" on his feet on a curb in Queens. Even after he is unfairly imprisoned, Boy still loves America and Americans: "And even after the torment they've put me through—tossing me into this little cell in No Man's Land—would you believe that I still hold America close to my heart?"
Mr. Gilvarry gives us wonderful foreshadowing when Boy arrives in New York on September 13, 2002, exactly one year and two days after the 9/11 terrorist attack. Boy seeks out the Statue of Liberty, that New York landmark symbolic of freedom for all. His spirits slump when he sees "she was in mourning." A "black veil" covers the face of Lady Liberty. The Statue of Liberty is undergoing restoration at the time of Boy's arrival and is closed. Therefore, Boy does not see her in all her glory. She does not welcome him as he thinks she will. This does not bode well for Boy.
More than anything in the world, Boy wants to become a great fashion designer. He admires Coco Chanel and is a little jealous of Philip Tang, his rival back in fashion school in the Philippines who has made quite a name for himself in fashion. Boy's problem is that he has little money. He meets a man in the same building he lives in, Ahmed Qureshi, who tells Boy that he is from Canada. Qureshi asks Boy to make two suits for him; Qureshi likes the suits so much that he offers to provide Boy the capital he needs to start his own business: (B)oy. Of course, Boy accepts. Ultimately, Boy succeeds; his business thrives and anybody who is anyone wants to wear his clothes.
Mr. Gilvarry shows us the innocence of Boy, even in a city like New York. Boy does not question where Qureshi gets his money. When Qureshi obviously makes things up to explain away his business ventures, Boy accepts. Boy desperately needs the money, you see, and how Qureshi gets it is of little interest to him.
One day, Boy goes to Qureshi's. He needs yet more money because Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman order a new line. Qureshi has bags and bags of fertilizer in his apartment. This would certainly tip me off, but not Boy. It is almost comical how he does not see what is right under his nose. Boy explains, "Now from the perspective of an innocent man—my perspective—there was nothing too unusual about this. Ahmed always had things in bulk coming and going."
Imagine Boy's surprise when Qureshi is picked up for being an arms dealer! But Mr. Gilvarry takes it even further. Qureshi tries to save himself. He is not a terrorist, he is not planning on blowing up America, oh no. Qureshi instead accuses Boy and tells the government that Boy is behind it all and that he is simply masquerading as a fashion designer so he can blow up everyone during Fashion Week. That Boy's publicist is named Ben Laden does not help matters either.
And so it happens--in the middle of the night, government officials come for Boy. They put a black bag over his head and do not ask questions. Within just a few days, authorities have Boy in prison in No Man's Land in Gitmo. His cries of innocence fall on deaf ears. His captors are convinced that Boy is lying and is, in fact, the mastermind of a proposed terrorist plot. There is a lot of hilarity here, especially when Boy's ex writes a play about him, starring Lou Diamond Phillips.
If the plot sounds absurd to you, that is the point. The story is absurd and speaks to recent U.S. history when this very thing occurred. Unjustly imprisoning people like Boy is a black spot on our country, though. Mr. Gilvarry may write with irreverence but he also makes a statement, and a very strong one at that. His use of satire works well here. Boy, a diminutive fashion designer from the Philippines, who loves America, a terrorist? Of course it is just laughable.
On page 275, Mr. Gilvarry throws a curve ball. The rest of the novel is an afterword, written by Gil Johannessen. I find I do not like the end of the book. I miss Boy's distinctive voice. I do not know Gil; I do not trust him; I do not connect with him. Gil proceeds to tell the rest of Boy's story. I wish Mr. Gilvarry had not chosen to end like this. In the afterword, Boy has changed. He has returned to Manila and is cross-dressing in an attempt to confuse anyone who might be following him. Boy has been through a lot, yet I dispute the fact that this man who once loved women so much, according to his own admission, that he would be dating a transgender singer. It is too much of a stretch for me to believe this. Although I do not care for the end, it does nothing to dampen my spirit for this timely debut.
Mr. Gilvarry proves he is an up-and-coming author with From the Memoirs of a Non-Enemy Combatant. I cannot wait to read more from him.
April 6, 2022
4 stars
and fuck america
and fuck america
April 21, 2012
Prepare to be charmed. From the moment, Boyet Hernandez hits New York City from his native Philippines in 2002, his exuberance and talent starts to propel him to the top of the fashion world. He comes with nothing but determination to make it in the only world he cares about. Several years later, he has his own line (B)oy, magazine spreads and an American girlfriend. He has it all, or so it seems, until the knock comes in the middle of the night and he is hustled off to a military prison. His crime? Fashion terrorist.
It seems that his main financial backer, a Canadian Muslim who believed in him and invested the money to get Boy his start, has been arrested as a smuggler with terrorist ties, and a stash of enough fertilizer to make many bombs. There is the Indian gangster who tries to blackmail Boy--pay up or he will turn Boy in as a known associate of the smuggler. His American girlfriend turns their love affair into an off-Broadway play about falling in love with a terrorist. Even his publicist is a mark against him. An Irishman whose family changed their name from McLaden to Laden to escape the prejudice against the Irish a century ago, Ben Laden has come full circle and this gay Irish man has lost most of his customers who don't want to be associated with someone whose name sounds so much like Bin Laden.
A travesty of justice, no doubt. Boy is left in a prison cell under isolation, his only human contact guards and interrogators. But then, but then. Under the torrent of Boy's words, his exuberant explanation for everything, a worm of doubt starts to build in the reader's minds. Is he as innocent as it seems, or is there a kernel of truth to be uncovered?
Alex Gilvarry has created a memorable character in Boy. His exploration of the immigrant mind and the New York fashion scene is fascinating. Readers will walk away from the experience of reading From The Memoirs Of A Non-Enemy Combatant with many questions about what is correct when a country is dealing with terrorism and to what lengths we are willing to go to protect ourselves. This book is recommended for readers interested in fresh writing, great characters and writing that makes them question their positions.
It seems that his main financial backer, a Canadian Muslim who believed in him and invested the money to get Boy his start, has been arrested as a smuggler with terrorist ties, and a stash of enough fertilizer to make many bombs. There is the Indian gangster who tries to blackmail Boy--pay up or he will turn Boy in as a known associate of the smuggler. His American girlfriend turns their love affair into an off-Broadway play about falling in love with a terrorist. Even his publicist is a mark against him. An Irishman whose family changed their name from McLaden to Laden to escape the prejudice against the Irish a century ago, Ben Laden has come full circle and this gay Irish man has lost most of his customers who don't want to be associated with someone whose name sounds so much like Bin Laden.
A travesty of justice, no doubt. Boy is left in a prison cell under isolation, his only human contact guards and interrogators. But then, but then. Under the torrent of Boy's words, his exuberant explanation for everything, a worm of doubt starts to build in the reader's minds. Is he as innocent as it seems, or is there a kernel of truth to be uncovered?
Alex Gilvarry has created a memorable character in Boy. His exploration of the immigrant mind and the New York fashion scene is fascinating. Readers will walk away from the experience of reading From The Memoirs Of A Non-Enemy Combatant with many questions about what is correct when a country is dealing with terrorism and to what lengths we are willing to go to protect ourselves. This book is recommended for readers interested in fresh writing, great characters and writing that makes them question their positions.
March 3, 2014
The strongest feeling that comes to mind for this book is "meh." I didn't hate it, I guess. I found it hard to read because I really didn't care about the protagonist, and grew to dislike him more and more, even while my sympathy for his circumstances increased. It wasn't badly written, exactly, it was a little confusing and once again a very "in the protagonist's head" type of book. In this case there was a lot of telling what was going on, but very little showing of the action.
On the other hand, the book definitely highlights the absurd cruelty and unconstitutionality of the rendition program.
Overall, I have to say, I didn't care about the characters, I don't know enough about the rendition program to divine what is real and what is exaggeration/incorrect/pure make-believe, and I really had to force myself to read the book. Every time I picked it up I got through about a page before I started thinking about all the other things I could be doing instead. (In comparison, I finished this Friday night, three days before its three-week lending period expired, it's now Monday, and I've read two other books since then.) It was painful, but I got through because I've committed myself to this book a day program. And I'm way behind!
If you're really interested in fashion, or the rendition program, you might want to read this book, but I would advise picking up something, anything, else.
Book-A-Day for January 14, 2014!
On the other hand, the book definitely highlights the absurd cruelty and unconstitutionality of the rendition program.
Overall, I have to say, I didn't care about the characters, I don't know enough about the rendition program to divine what is real and what is exaggeration/incorrect/pure make-believe, and I really had to force myself to read the book. Every time I picked it up I got through about a page before I started thinking about all the other things I could be doing instead. (In comparison, I finished this Friday night, three days before its three-week lending period expired, it's now Monday, and I've read two other books since then.) It was painful, but I got through because I've committed myself to this book a day program. And I'm way behind!
If you're really interested in fashion, or the rendition program, you might want to read this book, but I would advise picking up something, anything, else.
Book-A-Day for January 14, 2014!
October 16, 2011
I won this book from a contest on Goodreads.
Boyet Hernandez is from Pakistan and decides to go to America to live his dream of becoming a famous woman's fashion designer. Once he begins to be recognized for his work, he needs to find an investor to further his lines. When he moves to a new flat in New York, he meets a neighbour, Ahmed Lakhani who is not at all as he seems/says he is. But he is willing to back Boy on his quest to become of fashion designer and Boy couldn't be happier, although with all the convoluted stories Boy is in a quandary as to where exactly Ahmed's money is coming from, but his is not to questions why. Things begin to get strained between Boy and Ahmed as to Ahmed's whereabouts and he has now given Boy another contact to keep his money afloat. Then the nightmare begins when Boy gets a knock at his door and is taken prisoner but is never charged with a crime.
His time spent in his 8' X 10' cell on the brink of desperation and hopelessness knowing full well that Ahmed was also arrested and charged for terrorism. Although Boy was never charged, he is guilty by association. All of Boy's dreams come crumbling down all around him in this unspeakable nightmare where he can see no point of return.
A very surreal and gripping story that Alex Gilvarry puts across very well!
Boyet Hernandez is from Pakistan and decides to go to America to live his dream of becoming a famous woman's fashion designer. Once he begins to be recognized for his work, he needs to find an investor to further his lines. When he moves to a new flat in New York, he meets a neighbour, Ahmed Lakhani who is not at all as he seems/says he is. But he is willing to back Boy on his quest to become of fashion designer and Boy couldn't be happier, although with all the convoluted stories Boy is in a quandary as to where exactly Ahmed's money is coming from, but his is not to questions why. Things begin to get strained between Boy and Ahmed as to Ahmed's whereabouts and he has now given Boy another contact to keep his money afloat. Then the nightmare begins when Boy gets a knock at his door and is taken prisoner but is never charged with a crime.
His time spent in his 8' X 10' cell on the brink of desperation and hopelessness knowing full well that Ahmed was also arrested and charged for terrorism. Although Boy was never charged, he is guilty by association. All of Boy's dreams come crumbling down all around him in this unspeakable nightmare where he can see no point of return.
A very surreal and gripping story that Alex Gilvarry puts across very well!
January 29, 2012
This books tells the story of Boy Hernandez, a budding fashion designer, whose career is indefinitely derailed when he is indefinitely detained on account of his involvement with a terrorist (the "terrorist" part being something of which he was previously unaware, due to his admittedly staggering naivete). It details his life leading up to detainment, and then detainment itself, with a short afterword.
I feel that the question this book is ultimately asking (what are the consequences of an imperfect justice system, or lack of any real system within detainment) are not new - just yesterday I heard the story about that man who was released from prison after being cleared of a crime he was convicted of 16 years ago (!) at age 13 - though I will readily admit that anything this political is certainly outside my normal reading range. What I do find unique and immediate is the way this book approaches that question: the format (the faux memoir) and Boy's voice, which I found immediately likable and very engaging. The story, and Boy, will likely stay with me for a while.
I read this in about 24 hours, so if nothing else, that certainly says something for this book's ability to keep me turning pages! It is certainly not a light story- regardless of the reviews that mention how funny it is - but somehow is a quick read. And a thought-provoking one.
I feel that the question this book is ultimately asking (what are the consequences of an imperfect justice system, or lack of any real system within detainment) are not new - just yesterday I heard the story about that man who was released from prison after being cleared of a crime he was convicted of 16 years ago (!) at age 13 - though I will readily admit that anything this political is certainly outside my normal reading range. What I do find unique and immediate is the way this book approaches that question: the format (the faux memoir) and Boy's voice, which I found immediately likable and very engaging. The story, and Boy, will likely stay with me for a while.
I read this in about 24 hours, so if nothing else, that certainly says something for this book's ability to keep me turning pages! It is certainly not a light story- regardless of the reviews that mention how funny it is - but somehow is a quick read. And a thought-provoking one.
February 9, 2012
When I read the blurb for this book, I was surprised at the attempted conjoining of fashion and terrorism. And it was apparently funny. Well, funny it is. Gilvarry creates Boy with care, from the artfully placed acknowledgements section (by one B.R.H) to the slyly detailed footnotes, where we come to know of Boy’s penchant for mistakenly quoting authors and designers. The body of the book is in Boy’s voice, first person, written apparently while in prison, at the behest of his interrogator, and via it, Boy describes his life in New York in great detail. The inadvertent humor and satire is embedded in Boy’s manner and point-of-view, and in him we have our own gossipy guide to New York’s fashion world. Then Gilvarry skillfully changes tracks to give us Boy’s life-changing experience of No Man’s Land. Boy, a cheerful optimist, is driven to despair and worse. He professes his innocence, striking up restrained friendships with his guards, but to no avail. They do not believe him.
I’ve got to say that while the premise is a little hard-to-believe, Gilvarry gets my applause for writing through it with much skill. Boy is an endearing protagonist and everything he does, from the newcomer-ingenue-slip-ups to his thoughts of despair, has such an aura of honesty that it is hard to not be drawn in. I was. I hope you will be too. Recommended.
I’ve got to say that while the premise is a little hard-to-believe, Gilvarry gets my applause for writing through it with much skill. Boy is an endearing protagonist and everything he does, from the newcomer-ingenue-slip-ups to his thoughts of despair, has such an aura of honesty that it is hard to not be drawn in. I was. I hope you will be too. Recommended.
October 15, 2011
"Boyet Hernandez is a small man with a big American dream when he arrives in New York in 2002, fresh out of design school in Manila. But on the brink of fame and fortune, there comes instead a knock on the door in the middle of the night: the flamboyant ex-Catholic is swept to Gitmo, administered a Koran, and locked away indefinitely to discover his link to a terrorist plot. Now from his six-by-eight-foot cell, Boy prepares for the trial of his life with this intimate confession, even as his belief in American justice begins to erode.
I loved all the references to people from the fashion industry, current politicians and real life issues. It's exciting to me to read a fiction novel that ties itself to real life facts - I like a plausible story. Boyet is a character that you can easily feel an attachment to, he's someone you want to succeed.
I won this book from goodreads and I really enjoyed reading it.
I loved all the references to people from the fashion industry, current politicians and real life issues. It's exciting to me to read a fiction novel that ties itself to real life facts - I like a plausible story. Boyet is a character that you can easily feel an attachment to, he's someone you want to succeed.
I won this book from goodreads and I really enjoyed reading it.
January 20, 2012
Picked this for a book club because it was supposed to be a funny book and we've been having some downer books. It was indeed funny in places, but not really laugh out loud funny. For me, anyway. Some reviewers claim to have laughed out loud. This may be your experience as well!
The plot as a whole, however, is funny in a post 9/11 satire kind of way. A fashion designer gets mixed up with a terrorist and then is rounded up and plunked down in Guantanamo Bay where he writes out his life story and non-confession. The tale is occasionally (and humorously) footnoted by a mysterious editor who you don't really meet until the end.
A lot of the book is about fashion, but a lot of it is about life in a prison for suspected terrorists, so your mileage may very.
If you are very much in favor of Guantanamo Bay and stripping folks of rights in order to detain them, you may not like this book.
Then again, you might like it just fine.
The plot as a whole, however, is funny in a post 9/11 satire kind of way. A fashion designer gets mixed up with a terrorist and then is rounded up and plunked down in Guantanamo Bay where he writes out his life story and non-confession. The tale is occasionally (and humorously) footnoted by a mysterious editor who you don't really meet until the end.
A lot of the book is about fashion, but a lot of it is about life in a prison for suspected terrorists, so your mileage may very.
If you are very much in favor of Guantanamo Bay and stripping folks of rights in order to detain them, you may not like this book.
Then again, you might like it just fine.
July 31, 2016
This pretend memoir of an up and coming fashion designer from the Philippines imprisoned unjustly in the war on terror aspires to be something greater than it is. Written primarily in the voice of Boy Hernandez, the designer, is too smug, egotistical, and ill-informed for his own good and as such is more annoying than worthy of sympathy. While he does not deserve his black-site detention, it is still hard to care much about him. Where the book is strongest is nearer to the end where the paranoia and horror of what this world has become makes this a good read if not a great work.
Read
January 26, 2012Wonderful tragicomic novel that treats a dark and serious subject with a deft, light touch. Though farcical in tone (and I often found myself laughing out loud), the book is a powerful commentary on Guantanamo and beyond. Gilvarry uses humor to shine a light on the painfully absurd.
April 9, 2012
This was just a ton of fun to read, even though the gist of the story is sobering. I found it to be a better book on the victims of the Patriot Act than Little Brother by Cory Doctorow simply because it was funny yet thoughtful and didn't hit you over the head with the message.
Read
May 24, 2017This is a very strange but touching novel about confinement, innocence, agony and the world of fashion. Odd combination of elements, but they work together to tell the frustrating story of Boyet Hernandez, a diminutive Filipino who comes to the US fueled by dreams of fashion that he got from magazines in his own country. “Boy” as he is called, struggles to make a career and gets his big break when he runs into Ahmed Qureshi, a “mover and shaker” in many mysterious worlds. It turns out that Ahmed’s main business is terrorism and when he is arrested for those activities, he names Boy as his benefactor and financial supporter. The truth is that Boy used Ahmed’s offer of funding to start his independent career as a designer, not the other way around. The novel is written in Guantanamo, in a small cell, on paper sneaked to him by his beneficent guard. It is in the form of a memoir and is candid about life in the Philippines, New York and the world of international fashion. Parts of the book are roman a clef in nature except that the figures are portrayed under their real names. This is a fascinating bit of the novel’s plotting as big names in the fashion world are intermixed with Boy’s associates as equals. Another interesting technique is that a later editor footnotes corrections as we move along, some of which are very funny. Boy is unusual in that he is straight in a world in which the majority of male designers are not. He makes this clear by outlining, in some detail, his various affairs, particularly a two-year affair with Michelle, a student at Sarah Lawrence. I am a sucker for the “innocents abused” genre and this is a classic. I have no idea of what the actual conditions at Gitmo are, but everything here sounds logical and as cruel as it is intended to be. The novel succeeds on several levels and at the end you will find yourself hoping to see Boy’s works on the runway somewhere.
May 28, 2019
This is a fun book. I've read it before, years ago, but thankfully the book "spoils" itself; our hero, Boyet "Boy" Hernandez, is imprisoned—or "detained," I should say—and the entire novel reveals how he ended up there. The book is clever and satirical, yet incredibly easy to read. It's a book about terrorism, Islam, and Guantanamo Bay...although these topics are touched upon lightly. Mostly it is the story of Boy, a wannabe fashion designer from the Philippines who's chasing the American Dream in NYC.
The novel functions entirely on dramatic irony. Boy is naive and ambitious, which isn't a great combination. Since the reader knows that Boy is a suspected terrorist, it becomes a game of seeing the things that Boy doesn't see, mostly the shady dealings done by his neighbour/patron/criminal Ahmed Qureshi. The novel is Boy's confession and is "edited" by a friend of a friend in the fashion industry. Occasionally the editor inserts footnotes—many of them short and witty corrections that show the flaws Boy's intellectual persona. There are other, longer footnotes that explain changes to U.S. law post-9/11 and how they limit freedoms.
I don't give a single fuck about fashion, so in that respect it was somewhat difficult for me to fully appreciate the novel. However, the author writes about it in a simplistic enough way that it doesn't become overwhelming and the reader can simply smile and nod when famous designers are name-dropped.
This book is entertaining and thought-provoking. If I have a complaint it's that the pacing seemed to slow after the first third of the novel. I flew through the first hundred pages and then got impatient with the lack of action.
The novel functions entirely on dramatic irony. Boy is naive and ambitious, which isn't a great combination. Since the reader knows that Boy is a suspected terrorist, it becomes a game of seeing the things that Boy doesn't see, mostly the shady dealings done by his neighbour/patron/criminal Ahmed Qureshi. The novel is Boy's confession and is "edited" by a friend of a friend in the fashion industry. Occasionally the editor inserts footnotes—many of them short and witty corrections that show the flaws Boy's intellectual persona. There are other, longer footnotes that explain changes to U.S. law post-9/11 and how they limit freedoms.
I don't give a single fuck about fashion, so in that respect it was somewhat difficult for me to fully appreciate the novel. However, the author writes about it in a simplistic enough way that it doesn't become overwhelming and the reader can simply smile and nod when famous designers are name-dropped.
This book is entertaining and thought-provoking. If I have a complaint it's that the pacing seemed to slow after the first third of the novel. I flew through the first hundred pages and then got impatient with the lack of action.
December 3, 2019
My literature professor assigned this to our class as a prank, because he wanted to see how a group of impatient, high-energy millenial kids would react to 302 mind-numbingly boring pages of absolutely no payoff. Profoundly shallow and deeply uninteresting, Alex Gilvarry's From the Memoirs manages to use the power of raw, unfiltered imagination to paint a vivid picture of the fact that just because you can turn your uneventful life into a vain, self-congratulatory novel, doesn't mean you should get it published.
May 22, 2018
This was a (mostly) fun read about an aspiring fashion designer who gets caught up with the wrong people and is taken to Guantanamo Bay in the post-9/11 hysteria. By turns funny and chilling, we hear the story of this innocent immigrant who tries to make a name for himself in the world of New York fashion before he suffers unimaginable conditions at the hands of the government with very little power to extricate himself from captivity.
May 27, 2019
Gilvarry manages to take one of the most atrocious and shameful crimes against humanity committed by the U.S. and tell it through an entertaining lens of Boy Hernandez, a naive and attention-seeking young fashion designer. I don't know how he made me laugh out loud at one point. Later, I'd writhe in disgust at the treatment of detainees in Guantanamo Bay. A must-read!
July 12, 2019
The story of Boyez Hernandez, a glamorous stylist, a naive Filipino Holden transplanted to America, an unconscious and confused non-combatant friend of terrorists, in search of fame and the American dream, he finds instead the real America, made of disappointments and roughness. A great read, funny and occasionally sad, on how we like pursue dreams even if we know they’re nightmares.
April 26, 2020
Really clever book. A young wannabe fashion designer comes to NYC from Manila to try and start his own line of clothing and ends up in Guantanamo as a suspected terrorist. The book is his written confession, but it’s really the almost unbelievable turn of events that have landed him into this nightmare.
December 17, 2018
I liked this, it wasn't outstanding, I liked "Eastman Was Here" better, but it was still pretty good. This book/style reminds me of Teddy Wayne "The Lovesong of Jonny Valentine" so it's in good company. I'd definitely read more Alex Gilvarry but he's only written two books so far, unfortunately.
August 6, 2020
strange mix of new york high fashion and guantanamo bay, but somehow it works fairly well. In the end it is satisfying but not great as there isn't a lot of depth to the story. Would have worked better either as a shorter novella or a longer story with more drama & character development
February 28, 2023
It was OK. The epilogue was the most interesting part as it explained what happened to Boy. I listened to it on audio. There were a lot of footnotes that corrected Boy Hernandez's information, which interfered with the flow of the book, and made me lose credibility in most of Boy's information.
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