Michiko Kakutani, easily the most ruthlessly critical book reviewer in the world, puts it this way about Michael Lewis’ latest book, Boomerang: No one writes with more narrative panache about money and finance than Lewis. . . . [An] entertaining new book. That’s an understatement.
I first wandered into Michael Lewis writing in Liar’s Poker, his early semi-autobiographical depiction of the 1980s Wall Street bond traders. I was initially resistant to reading the book, but one of my best friends insisted that in spite of my lack of interest in Wall Street I’d find this book intriguing. After nearly having to pick myself up off the floor—backdrafts from all the laughter—I’ve become a devoted reader of absolutely anything Lewis writes and says. Ummmm. This is not a book review. Just a dedicated . . . ummm, well. . . response.
The dust jacket explains the hilarity. The trademark of Michael Lewis’s best-selling books is to tell an important and complex story through characters so outsized and outrageously weird that you’d think they have to be invented. (You’d be wrong.)
What’s really frustrating about Lewis' writing is that he teaches me finance by osmosis, even though I’m certain I don’t want to learn it--or be bothered by the insights. Still, it’s tough not to be curious and intrigued by finance with all the mess of recent years. So, for my money, he’s the best teacher in the world. He seems to recognize that seduction works better than any other strategy. Lewis’ books are always page-turners.
Having consulted for a still unnamed sub-prime lender, I was especially curious about this new book. Lewis doesn’t let me down. He explains what the hell went on in the global financial markets, but he does it through the unique, national character of the players. Though cartoonish, they’re too real to reject.
If you want to gain intercultural insight, this book is better than any grad class on the subject. Yeah, I know. What he writes may not be politically correct, but, god, it’s very accurate. I’ve worked with endless internationals over the years. And Lewis’ insights inevitably ring true.
Since I’ve got family memories from Greece, Germany and California, I’m pretty comfortable with the title of my blog. I learned about a dozen years ago that when it came to the Greeks and Greece, they were all living on hot air. I had to insist again and again that my ex-son-in-law step outside Greek practice and report all his earnings. Uncle Sam actually enforces the rules. Married to one of those Germans, I’ve always celebrated her “orderly” (nice term, but “anal” is probably more accurate) ways. Her order always seemed to make life easier for me. And when it comes to Cal-i-for-ni-a, well. . . having lived there for a couple years in the ‘sixties, and consulted there more recently, and with a kid who lives there, I’m well aware of its plastic ways. Lewis got it right.
You can be damned certain that Lewis gets it all very, very right. He’s also a weird one—with a degree in art history from Princeton, a master’s in econ from the London School of Economics, and Wall Street experience in bond trading. Where do these occasionally strange, delightful writers really come from? Is it in the genes? Or what? This is a book that will make for some of the most delightful, hilarious reading of the year. But if you don’t believe me, you’ll want to read why he could have made a fortune in business, but instead, made a fortune writing about it.