What do you think?
Rate this book
Victim
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Debut Novel (2024)MOST ANTICIPATED: WASHINGTON POST, TIME, & MORE • There’s a fine line between bending the truth and telling bold-faced lies, and Javier Perez is willing to cross it. Victim is a fearless satire about a hustler from the Bronx who sees through the veneer of diversity initiatives and decides to cash in on the odd currency of identity.
Javier Perez is a hustler from a family of hustlers. He learns from an early age how to play the game to his own advantage, how his background—murdered drug dealer dad, single cash-strapped mom, best friend serving time for gang activity—can be a key to doors he didn’t even know existed. This kind of story, molded in the right way, is just what college admissions committees are looking for, and a full academic scholarship to a prestigious university brings Javi one step closer to his dream of becoming a famous writer.
As a college student, Javi embellishes his life story until there’s not even a kernel of truth left. The only real connection to his past is the occasional letter he trades with his childhood best friend, Gio, who doesn’t seem to care about Javi’s newfound awareness of white privilege or the school-to-prison pipeline. Soon after Javi graduates, a viral essay transforms him from a writer on the rise to a journalist at a legendary magazine where the editors applaud his “unique perspective.” But Gio more than anyone knows who Javi really is, and sees through his game. Once Gio’s released from prison and Javi offers to cut him in on the deal, will he play along with Javi’s charade, or will it all come crumbling down?
A satirical sendup of tear-jerking trauma plots with a tender portrait of friendship at its core, Victim asks what real diversity looks like and how far one man is willing to go to make his story hit the right notes.
Javier Perez is a hustler from a family of hustlers. He learns from an early age how to play the game to his own advantage, how his background—murdered drug dealer dad, single cash-strapped mom, best friend serving time for gang activity—can be a key to doors he didn’t even know existed. This kind of story, molded in the right way, is just what college admissions committees are looking for, and a full academic scholarship to a prestigious university brings Javi one step closer to his dream of becoming a famous writer.
As a college student, Javi embellishes his life story until there’s not even a kernel of truth left. The only real connection to his past is the occasional letter he trades with his childhood best friend, Gio, who doesn’t seem to care about Javi’s newfound awareness of white privilege or the school-to-prison pipeline. Soon after Javi graduates, a viral essay transforms him from a writer on the rise to a journalist at a legendary magazine where the editors applaud his “unique perspective.” But Gio more than anyone knows who Javi really is, and sees through his game. Once Gio’s released from prison and Javi offers to cut him in on the deal, will he play along with Javi’s charade, or will it all come crumbling down?
A satirical sendup of tear-jerking trauma plots with a tender portrait of friendship at its core, Victim asks what real diversity looks like and how far one man is willing to go to make his story hit the right notes.
276 pages, Hardcover
First published March 12, 2024
295 people are currently reading
38476 people want to read
About the author
Andrew Boryga
1 book120 followersANDREW BORYGA grew up in the Bronx and now lives in Miami with his family. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, The New Yorker, and The Atlantic, and been awarded prizes by Cornell University, The University of Miami, The Susquehanna Review, and The Michener Foundation. He attended the Tin House Writer’s Workshop and has taught writing to college students, elementary school students, and incarcerated adults. Victim is his debut novel.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 723 reviews
Read
December 22, 2024an entertaining read that i flew through in less than 2 days. it's a satire about performative allyship, diversity initiatives, and how marginalized people's trauma are the stories that get success and recognition. i wish it gave space for the main character's story beyond his grift to allow more nuance, but still a fun read and some parts even made me laugh out loud.
April 2, 2024
This debut is an excellent companion piece to Yellowface: Both are satires about the public's fascination with trauma porn, written from the first-person perspective of a fraudster defending their actions, both show readers as consumers who validate narratives that allow them to feel virtuous, and both are wickedly funny. Boryga tells the story of Javier Perez, a Latino from the Bronx who witnesses his Puerto Rican drug dealer dad getting fatally shot right in front of him. A school counselor encourages him to use his cultural heritage, tough neighborhood, and personal trauma in an essay to get into a good college - and that's the start of Javi's career built on fabrication and weaponized identity politics.
At the prestigious Donlon College, Javi falls in love with Anais, a POC from a wealthy background who introduces him into social justice spaces which Boryga crafts as an illustration of how the culture wars happened: While one extreme side takes the Ayn Rand route that underprivileged people are personally at fault for being poor, the other extreme side claims that it's all the system's fault - and Javi exploits the latter attitude to advance his career as a journalist, writing highly subjective "own voices" social justice pieces that are all emotion, no research, and to a rather high extent also invented to better fit the narrative. Which is where we as readers come into play: The clicks are where Javi reproduces what fits the idea of authenticity, not what is actually authentic. Much like his dad, Javi has become a hustler.
What I particularly liked is how Boryga describes the audience for Javi's social justice trauma porn and the discourse it exploits: What sets them apart is not religion or the color of their skin, but their wealth. Javi's friend Gio, who actually had a tough life and gets incarcerated, sees right through his scheme and refuses to be framed as a victim, as a person without agency (although in many ways, you could claim that his bad decisions were fueled by very real trauma); Anais, on the other hand, who her well-off Latino daddy calls his little princess, is obsessed with identifying victims and helping them, but wants to live a cozy life in a gentrified neighborhood. Gio insists in his freedom of will and thus wants to maintain his dignity, while Anais is the brown version of a white savior.
The first half suffers from some drawn-out scenes, and you could also argue that Boryga might add more nuance to the real repercussions of trauma (but then again, it's a satire, so of course it employs exaggeration and irony!), but to hell with it, this novel is captivating, intelligent, and fun to read - and also, very much of the moment: There is an increasing amount of backlash to the more extreme repercussions of the woke movement, and with the character of Gio, Boryga's novel particularly stresses that taking away agency means depriving people of dignity. Javi, on the other hand, aims to capitalize on social justice by accumulating clout without much effort.
This is a very interesting novel to talk about, as it requires readers that appreciate nuance and ambiguity: Boryga has no easy answers, and that, as well as its intriguing story, renders this text very worthwhile. Javi's voice and the brilliant trickster ending are just fun and absorbing.
At the prestigious Donlon College, Javi falls in love with Anais, a POC from a wealthy background who introduces him into social justice spaces which Boryga crafts as an illustration of how the culture wars happened: While one extreme side takes the Ayn Rand route that underprivileged people are personally at fault for being poor, the other extreme side claims that it's all the system's fault - and Javi exploits the latter attitude to advance his career as a journalist, writing highly subjective "own voices" social justice pieces that are all emotion, no research, and to a rather high extent also invented to better fit the narrative. Which is where we as readers come into play: The clicks are where Javi reproduces what fits the idea of authenticity, not what is actually authentic. Much like his dad, Javi has become a hustler.
What I particularly liked is how Boryga describes the audience for Javi's social justice trauma porn and the discourse it exploits: What sets them apart is not religion or the color of their skin, but their wealth. Javi's friend Gio, who actually had a tough life and gets incarcerated, sees right through his scheme and refuses to be framed as a victim, as a person without agency (although in many ways, you could claim that his bad decisions were fueled by very real trauma); Anais, on the other hand, who her well-off Latino daddy calls his little princess, is obsessed with identifying victims and helping them, but wants to live a cozy life in a gentrified neighborhood. Gio insists in his freedom of will and thus wants to maintain his dignity, while Anais is the brown version of a white savior.
The first half suffers from some drawn-out scenes, and you could also argue that Boryga might add more nuance to the real repercussions of trauma (but then again, it's a satire, so of course it employs exaggeration and irony!), but to hell with it, this novel is captivating, intelligent, and fun to read - and also, very much of the moment: There is an increasing amount of backlash to the more extreme repercussions of the woke movement, and with the character of Gio, Boryga's novel particularly stresses that taking away agency means depriving people of dignity. Javi, on the other hand, aims to capitalize on social justice by accumulating clout without much effort.
This is a very interesting novel to talk about, as it requires readers that appreciate nuance and ambiguity: Boryga has no easy answers, and that, as well as its intriguing story, renders this text very worthwhile. Javi's voice and the brilliant trickster ending are just fun and absorbing.
November 13, 2024
This book follows self-proclaimed hustler Javier, a young Puerto Rican man from the South Bronx, as he builds a writing career by crafting the sort of sob stories that make liberal white people feel good about how empathetic they are. (I say this as a liberal white person!) He deftly exaggerates and makes up events to paint a picture of a life marked by police brutality, poverty and gang warfare. So what if it’s not strictly true? He’s a media darling…until it all comes crashing down.
This book follows Javier from his early teens to his professional career, and the weakest point of the book is definitely his college years. The portrayal of activists on campus felt a bit too cartoonish even for satire, as if it had been pulled from a right-wing pundit’s fever dream. But the story becomes more nuanced (and, in my opinion, much more funny) in Javier’s post-college years. The portrayal of the media landscape feels so true to life, and it’s fun to watch other characters, from oblivious media bosses to his childhood best friend, react to Javier’s lies. This book has a biting wit, but also a lot of heart.
The novel is framed as Javier’s post-cancellation memoir, and this clever literary device will have readers questioning how reliable his narration actually is. Did he ever really give up the hustle?
This book follows Javier from his early teens to his professional career, and the weakest point of the book is definitely his college years. The portrayal of activists on campus felt a bit too cartoonish even for satire, as if it had been pulled from a right-wing pundit’s fever dream. But the story becomes more nuanced (and, in my opinion, much more funny) in Javier’s post-college years. The portrayal of the media landscape feels so true to life, and it’s fun to watch other characters, from oblivious media bosses to his childhood best friend, react to Javier’s lies. This book has a biting wit, but also a lot of heart.
The novel is framed as Javier’s post-cancellation memoir, and this clever literary device will have readers questioning how reliable his narration actually is. Did he ever really give up the hustle?
January 7, 2024
A satire on race, class, privilege, and sensitivity that has a great concept at its heart. Boryga sets his sights on the way speaking out about oppression has become more posture than passion, more about saying the right thing than doing anything about it. It skewers tokenism and the well meaning but empty gestures of diversity. And it does all that in a propulsive read I got through in two days.
The thing is, that that's all it does and Boryga could have done so much more. It is so dedicated to its concept that it does not allow much space for nuance, for the realities of oppression and trauma. Javier doesn't care about anything except himself and what he really wants is a life where he is rewarded for doing as little as possible. That limitation means that we don't get to see much of the realities around him and it doesn't let him really exist as a fully fledged character outside of this one thing.
It's a fine line to walk, and while Boryga often does it very well, there are elements of the story that feel flat. Javier is able to turn a childhood tragedy into a ticket into a better life, but somehow this tragedy has never affected him. His biggest problem is being a nerd, apparently, and his life is almost too charmed. His mother is a single parent with a low skills job but she always cooks dinner and is around all the time and they never seem to have any financial problems. Javier goes off to a fancy college as he learns how to work the system, and we get a little bit of story about how he is struggling to keep up with the much more rigorous classes compared to his Bronx public high school, but that is quickly all pushed aside in favor of the satirical plot. When he moves back to the city after college he and his girlfriend are apparently just fine splitting the rent on a spacious Bronx apartment on just their two very meager salaries. The flatness of the story, the way Javier doesn't encounter most of the usual problems people from his background encounters does keep our focus on the satire but it also makes it all feel less interesting, it makes us care less about Javi the more the story goes on.
I think the satire could have been sharper and more interesting if Javier's story felt more real, if he was hurt and traumatized from his father's violent death, if everything didn't come easily, if he really felt the loss of a friend, if he wasn't always trying to minimize the problems diversity initiatives are trying to solve to make them seem more ridiculous. They are still plenty ridiculous! In fact they are more ridiculous given how ineffectively they consider or address problems!
Nevertheless this is still a book that will push readers into discomfort, and that has something to say. I hope we see Boryga do more and go further in the future.
The thing is, that that's all it does and Boryga could have done so much more. It is so dedicated to its concept that it does not allow much space for nuance, for the realities of oppression and trauma. Javier doesn't care about anything except himself and what he really wants is a life where he is rewarded for doing as little as possible. That limitation means that we don't get to see much of the realities around him and it doesn't let him really exist as a fully fledged character outside of this one thing.
It's a fine line to walk, and while Boryga often does it very well, there are elements of the story that feel flat. Javier is able to turn a childhood tragedy into a ticket into a better life, but somehow this tragedy has never affected him. His biggest problem is being a nerd, apparently, and his life is almost too charmed. His mother is a single parent with a low skills job but she always cooks dinner and is around all the time and they never seem to have any financial problems. Javier goes off to a fancy college as he learns how to work the system, and we get a little bit of story about how he is struggling to keep up with the much more rigorous classes compared to his Bronx public high school, but that is quickly all pushed aside in favor of the satirical plot. When he moves back to the city after college he and his girlfriend are apparently just fine splitting the rent on a spacious Bronx apartment on just their two very meager salaries. The flatness of the story, the way Javier doesn't encounter most of the usual problems people from his background encounters does keep our focus on the satire but it also makes it all feel less interesting, it makes us care less about Javi the more the story goes on.
I think the satire could have been sharper and more interesting if Javier's story felt more real, if he was hurt and traumatized from his father's violent death, if everything didn't come easily, if he really felt the loss of a friend, if he wasn't always trying to minimize the problems diversity initiatives are trying to solve to make them seem more ridiculous. They are still plenty ridiculous! In fact they are more ridiculous given how ineffectively they consider or address problems!
Nevertheless this is still a book that will push readers into discomfort, and that has something to say. I hope we see Boryga do more and go further in the future.
March 29, 2025
An engaging satire about identity, race, and art. It’s interesting to read this book a little after a year it was published, a year in which Trump got elected again and has launched an all-out attack on DEI. I had to sort through my feelings reading this book because Victim also attacks the DEI movement, though it does so more from a place of wanting it to do more for social justice, whereas Trump and co’s attacks on DEI are part of a fascist takeover.
To get a bit more specific, I appreciated Andrew Boryga’s writing about how advancing into the upper echelons of society can distance us from the genuine, day-to-day struggles of our community members – I felt he did this especially effectively in relation to class and upward mobility. He also did a nice job of writing about how people of color who capitulate to what white people want, or even what other people want generally, can sell out our own communities or be disingenuous even while attempting authenticity. The novel raises interesting questions about who gets to write about what, as well as what it means to be truthfully in support of social justice.
Though similar in topic, I found this book slightly better written than Yellowface . That said, I felt it suffered from a similar issue where the novel was so focused on satire and these questions of justice and appropriation that it neglected to build more emotionally resonant characters. It felt like the characters were more of a vehicle to communicate messages and ideas rather than emotional centerpieces of the story. Perhaps even investing more development into Javier and Gio’s friendship would’ve helped on that front. Again, a solid read and one that may elicit discussion, though it didn’t tug on my heartstrings.
To get a bit more specific, I appreciated Andrew Boryga’s writing about how advancing into the upper echelons of society can distance us from the genuine, day-to-day struggles of our community members – I felt he did this especially effectively in relation to class and upward mobility. He also did a nice job of writing about how people of color who capitulate to what white people want, or even what other people want generally, can sell out our own communities or be disingenuous even while attempting authenticity. The novel raises interesting questions about who gets to write about what, as well as what it means to be truthfully in support of social justice.
Though similar in topic, I found this book slightly better written than Yellowface . That said, I felt it suffered from a similar issue where the novel was so focused on satire and these questions of justice and appropriation that it neglected to build more emotionally resonant characters. It felt like the characters were more of a vehicle to communicate messages and ideas rather than emotional centerpieces of the story. Perhaps even investing more development into Javier and Gio’s friendship would’ve helped on that front. Again, a solid read and one that may elicit discussion, though it didn’t tug on my heartstrings.
May 7, 2024
“I wasn’t trying to be a victim until the world taught me how powerful victims are”
‘Victim’ by Andrew Boryga challenges the idea of what it means to be a victim and the path someone takes in an age where there is pressure and demand to hear specific experiences and narratives.
We follow Javier Perez, who was shown how to use the cards you are given to make the most of life from an early age.
From an outside perspective, his life hits on all the buzzwords society looks for and expects in minority stories. He was raised by a single, cash-strapped mom, witnessed the death of his drug dealer dad, and his best friend is in jail for gang activity. JACKPOT! 🤩
However, Javi doesn’t view his life as disadvantaged and all he wants is to be a famous writer. So when his guidance counselor encourages him to forgo his perspective and mold his life story to get a full academic scholarship to a prestigious university, the first domino falls in Javi’s journey, where we see how addicting and far victimhood can get you.
I love stories that make me think, laugh and excited to turn the page and Andrew was successful in all three. Many scenes between the characters were so funny and ridiculous, but TRUE! I especially enjoyed Javi’s time in college because it reminded me of my college experience at a PWI.
What stood out to me and why I recommend and hope many read it is that it starts an interesting conversation. We live in a society where attention spans are low, click-bait continuously wins, trauma is consistently romanticized, virtue signaling is an epidemic, and it feels impossible for authentic, nuanced, and polylithic stories to get attention.
And where does that leave us? Well, Javi’s journey is an example of the byproduct. Who’s at fault? Read and decide for yourself as Andrew doesn’t force us to come to any specific conclusions, which I love, but presents us with an opportunity to self-reflect on our complicity to be able to address how exactly we found ourselves in this situation, which is necessary if we are ever going to find a way out.
Thank you Doubleday Books for the copy 💙 Andrew, congrats on an unforgettable debut!
Do yourself a favor and pick this one up, this is a story that should be on everyone’s radar.
Click here to watch my interview with Andrew:
https://youtu.be/YiRNtMX3l7E?si=i0JLg...
‘Victim’ by Andrew Boryga challenges the idea of what it means to be a victim and the path someone takes in an age where there is pressure and demand to hear specific experiences and narratives.
We follow Javier Perez, who was shown how to use the cards you are given to make the most of life from an early age.
From an outside perspective, his life hits on all the buzzwords society looks for and expects in minority stories. He was raised by a single, cash-strapped mom, witnessed the death of his drug dealer dad, and his best friend is in jail for gang activity. JACKPOT! 🤩
However, Javi doesn’t view his life as disadvantaged and all he wants is to be a famous writer. So when his guidance counselor encourages him to forgo his perspective and mold his life story to get a full academic scholarship to a prestigious university, the first domino falls in Javi’s journey, where we see how addicting and far victimhood can get you.
I love stories that make me think, laugh and excited to turn the page and Andrew was successful in all three. Many scenes between the characters were so funny and ridiculous, but TRUE! I especially enjoyed Javi’s time in college because it reminded me of my college experience at a PWI.
What stood out to me and why I recommend and hope many read it is that it starts an interesting conversation. We live in a society where attention spans are low, click-bait continuously wins, trauma is consistently romanticized, virtue signaling is an epidemic, and it feels impossible for authentic, nuanced, and polylithic stories to get attention.
And where does that leave us? Well, Javi’s journey is an example of the byproduct. Who’s at fault? Read and decide for yourself as Andrew doesn’t force us to come to any specific conclusions, which I love, but presents us with an opportunity to self-reflect on our complicity to be able to address how exactly we found ourselves in this situation, which is necessary if we are ever going to find a way out.
Thank you Doubleday Books for the copy 💙 Andrew, congrats on an unforgettable debut!
Do yourself a favor and pick this one up, this is a story that should be on everyone’s radar.
Click here to watch my interview with Andrew:
https://youtu.be/YiRNtMX3l7E?si=i0JLg...
September 8, 2024
i try to write at least a sentence for all of the books i read but i genuinely have nothing to say here
July 4, 2024
Javi comes from a family of hustlers in the Bronx. His dad dies, his mom dishes out tough love, and his childhood best friend, Gio, goes to prison.
When Javi finds opportunities for personal gains through diversity initiatives at college then beyond, he jumps on them. He embellishes as needed to make his points and gain traction with audiences. Javi writes an essay that goes viral and it propels him into the public eye, creating more writing opportunities. He builds on this momentum and when Gio is released, Javi asks him to participate in an interview but Gio is resistant. Everyone has a price though, right?
Satire doesn’t always work for me — I usually find myself wanting to enjoy it more than I actually do — but it worked well in Victim. The book starts off a little slow, but still held my interest. It’s a modern story with elements of social commentary, the digital landscape, success, and pushing boundaries. While I didn’t necessarily like the characters, I really enjoyed reading their antics.
Thank you to Netgalley and Doubleday Books for providing an advance reader copy of Victim in exchange for an honest review.
When Javi finds opportunities for personal gains through diversity initiatives at college then beyond, he jumps on them. He embellishes as needed to make his points and gain traction with audiences. Javi writes an essay that goes viral and it propels him into the public eye, creating more writing opportunities. He builds on this momentum and when Gio is released, Javi asks him to participate in an interview but Gio is resistant. Everyone has a price though, right?
Satire doesn’t always work for me — I usually find myself wanting to enjoy it more than I actually do — but it worked well in Victim. The book starts off a little slow, but still held my interest. It’s a modern story with elements of social commentary, the digital landscape, success, and pushing boundaries. While I didn’t necessarily like the characters, I really enjoyed reading their antics.
Thank you to Netgalley and Doubleday Books for providing an advance reader copy of Victim in exchange for an honest review.
March 19, 2024
I loved this. I wrote about the American obsession with victimhood a few months ago, and this book interrogates and satirizes it with a pitch perfect voice of a new American scammer. Seeing someone terrorize the hipster and gentrifier class using DEI buzzwords... amazing, hilarious, pitch perfect.
March 24, 2024
I liked this book generally but had some issues specifically with arguments that were made and who in fact this satire was calling in/out. It is an easy and quick read but there are some sticky questions in it for sure. A solid debut.
September 20, 2024
A good hardship story can open doors. But a really tragic tale of poverty and injustice can smash down the gates of privilege and wealth. Winning that game of Misery Poker might just lead to fortune, glory, and a byline.
It’s a subject loaded with social, political, and economic land mines. Debut novelist Andrew Boryga delivers a story of a young man wading these treacherous waters set in his native Bronx.
Javi Perez sees his father, a well-known drug dealer, gunned down at a boxing match in San Juan. Pops wasn’t much of a dad; in fact, he was mean and dismissive to anyone who didn’t further his success. After his death, Javi carries on with his Bronx childhood under the strict care of his mom. There are roaches in the cupboards and the occasional wild boys in the neighborhood, drinking and carrying on in the late hours. You probably shouldn’t make too many false moves or wear certain colors. His best friend, Gio, runs with the wrong crowd and ends up in prison. But Javi, directed by mom and a teacher who cares, goes the straight path: working hard in school and moving toward college.
So how hard does Javi have it? Yeah, he grew up in the Bronx, but was that so bad? Was he dodging gunfire? Did he starve? Was his mom strung out? Even he’d admit no. But when a guidance counselor suggests Javi “emphasize” his past in his college essay…the line between real and fake, hard and not so hard, gets blurred.
Because Javi wants to be a writer. Actually, he wants to be a success. He wants to further the cause of justice, sort of. Anais, a pretty suburban Latina activist and a classmate at prestigious Donlon University, convinces him to use his pen to tell a tale of injustice and oppression.
It’s hard to understate the social intelligence of this novel. Boryga touches on all the important modern topics: racism, economic oppression, gentrification. Subtly and carefully, he puts the topics into the mouths of young minority college grads.
When Javi and Anais move to New York, the issue of who’s authentic and who’s not comes up. If you don’t speak Spanish, are you really Latinx? If you didn’t grow up in the Bronx, can you honestly speak for the underprivileged? If you never felt threatened, can you earnestly say you understand the roots of urban violence? It’s done through simple things like a trip to a local Bronx diner, where Anais asks for almondmilk. Is she a fake for that?
Javi speaks like a Dostoyevsky character: sharing a terrible misdeed with longstanding regret. We’re not sure what it is at first, but it gradually becomes clear: it’s got something to do with his writing. Boryga shows his talent here: there’s dramatic buildup and moral confusion every time Javi writes a freelance article. There’s a forked path: tell the truth and get rejected, or embellish little by little and get a byline.
This tension sets the plot on fire. On several pages there was an emotional cliffhanger, forcing me to beg Javi, “Don’t do it!” I wanted him to be good, but I knew in my heart he was going to end up hurting people. He was creepy and immoral, but just flat interesting, a bit like Humbert Humbert (Lolita). Will he get his comeuppance? No spoilers!
Even though Javi’s telegraphed his transgression, how it unfolds is stinging and dramatic. If he weren’t such a heel, I’d feel bad for him. But I’m still contemplating the last two pages. There’s a real book club talk there. Does it represent Javi? Would he have said those things? Is it in character? Discuss.
Mysterious and intelligent, but also gritty, real, and controversial. A unique tome so brilliantly written I’m not sure there’s a genre to capture it. One of the best of 2024!
It’s a subject loaded with social, political, and economic land mines. Debut novelist Andrew Boryga delivers a story of a young man wading these treacherous waters set in his native Bronx.
Javi Perez sees his father, a well-known drug dealer, gunned down at a boxing match in San Juan. Pops wasn’t much of a dad; in fact, he was mean and dismissive to anyone who didn’t further his success. After his death, Javi carries on with his Bronx childhood under the strict care of his mom. There are roaches in the cupboards and the occasional wild boys in the neighborhood, drinking and carrying on in the late hours. You probably shouldn’t make too many false moves or wear certain colors. His best friend, Gio, runs with the wrong crowd and ends up in prison. But Javi, directed by mom and a teacher who cares, goes the straight path: working hard in school and moving toward college.
So how hard does Javi have it? Yeah, he grew up in the Bronx, but was that so bad? Was he dodging gunfire? Did he starve? Was his mom strung out? Even he’d admit no. But when a guidance counselor suggests Javi “emphasize” his past in his college essay…the line between real and fake, hard and not so hard, gets blurred.
Because Javi wants to be a writer. Actually, he wants to be a success. He wants to further the cause of justice, sort of. Anais, a pretty suburban Latina activist and a classmate at prestigious Donlon University, convinces him to use his pen to tell a tale of injustice and oppression.
It’s hard to understate the social intelligence of this novel. Boryga touches on all the important modern topics: racism, economic oppression, gentrification. Subtly and carefully, he puts the topics into the mouths of young minority college grads.
When Javi and Anais move to New York, the issue of who’s authentic and who’s not comes up. If you don’t speak Spanish, are you really Latinx? If you didn’t grow up in the Bronx, can you honestly speak for the underprivileged? If you never felt threatened, can you earnestly say you understand the roots of urban violence? It’s done through simple things like a trip to a local Bronx diner, where Anais asks for almondmilk. Is she a fake for that?
Javi speaks like a Dostoyevsky character: sharing a terrible misdeed with longstanding regret. We’re not sure what it is at first, but it gradually becomes clear: it’s got something to do with his writing. Boryga shows his talent here: there’s dramatic buildup and moral confusion every time Javi writes a freelance article. There’s a forked path: tell the truth and get rejected, or embellish little by little and get a byline.
This tension sets the plot on fire. On several pages there was an emotional cliffhanger, forcing me to beg Javi, “Don’t do it!” I wanted him to be good, but I knew in my heart he was going to end up hurting people. He was creepy and immoral, but just flat interesting, a bit like Humbert Humbert (Lolita). Will he get his comeuppance? No spoilers!
Even though Javi’s telegraphed his transgression, how it unfolds is stinging and dramatic. If he weren’t such a heel, I’d feel bad for him. But I’m still contemplating the last two pages. There’s a real book club talk there. Does it represent Javi? Would he have said those things? Is it in character? Discuss.
Mysterious and intelligent, but also gritty, real, and controversial. A unique tome so brilliantly written I’m not sure there’s a genre to capture it. One of the best of 2024!
April 22, 2024
literary scammers 🤩
May 29, 2025
Can a hustler ever truly stop? That question lies at the heart of this compelling and thought-provoking book, which takes readers on a relentless journey through ambition, self-destruction, and the complicated pursuit of success. The narrative unfolds with the gripping tension of a slow-motion car crash—you sense the inevitable impact, yet you remain riveted, unable to look away. The story is raw, electric, and steeped in an emotional urgency that makes it impossible to disengage.
What makes this book particularly memorable is its unflinching portrayal of the hustle mentality—what fuels it, what breaks under it, and what, if anything, can be found on the other side. The author does a brilliant job of creating a character arc that is both chaotic and captivating, allowing readers to examine the human cost of constant striving in a world obsessed with achievement.
I listened to this story through the audiobook, and I highly recommend that format. The narration brings an added layer of immediacy and emotion, making the already gripping narrative even more immersive. Whether you’re drawn to stories about ambition, identity, redemption, DEI, corporate politics, dark humor, or hypocrisy, this book delivers on all fronts. A highly recommended read—or listen—for anyone who enjoys stories that challenge, make you laugh, make you think, entertain, and linger long after the final chapter.
What makes this book particularly memorable is its unflinching portrayal of the hustle mentality—what fuels it, what breaks under it, and what, if anything, can be found on the other side. The author does a brilliant job of creating a character arc that is both chaotic and captivating, allowing readers to examine the human cost of constant striving in a world obsessed with achievement.
I listened to this story through the audiobook, and I highly recommend that format. The narration brings an added layer of immediacy and emotion, making the already gripping narrative even more immersive. Whether you’re drawn to stories about ambition, identity, redemption, DEI, corporate politics, dark humor, or hypocrisy, this book delivers on all fronts. A highly recommended read—or listen—for anyone who enjoys stories that challenge, make you laugh, make you think, entertain, and linger long after the final chapter.
December 5, 2023
(4 1/2 stars!)
This is a funny, fast-paced novel, absolutely crackling with what it wants to tell you. Right at the surface, it is a portrait of the pressure placed on POC, to capitalize on their experiences in order to be considered. It also touches on something I've been thinking about a lot lately, which is the culture we've built, in the age of the internet, to monetize everything we go through. It's an uncomfortable read at times, though intentionally. Tense and tough to look away from.
The main character is designed to be unlikeable, in a way where you're still fighting to root for him. This can be tricky to navigate and I think the author did it well!
Overall a wild, interesting read!
This is a funny, fast-paced novel, absolutely crackling with what it wants to tell you. Right at the surface, it is a portrait of the pressure placed on POC, to capitalize on their experiences in order to be considered. It also touches on something I've been thinking about a lot lately, which is the culture we've built, in the age of the internet, to monetize everything we go through. It's an uncomfortable read at times, though intentionally. Tense and tough to look away from.
The main character is designed to be unlikeable, in a way where you're still fighting to root for him. This can be tricky to navigate and I think the author did it well!
Overall a wild, interesting read!
February 22, 2024
I ended up receiving a physical galley of this book via the Goodreads giveaway.
The cover has nice vibrant colors that seemingly fade into one another.
The cover has nice vibrant colors that seemingly fade into one another.
Read
April 6, 2024OMG OMG OMG! The book version of American Fiction film told at the breakneck speed of Yellowface. I devoured this book in 2 sittings. Full review to come.
April 6, 2024
I get the point of the book, I really do, and I really wanted to like it more than I did. I felt like this book just belabored the same point for almost 300 pages. I kept waiting for more and it just wasn’t there. I almost DNF’d it, but since I was so far in I figured I might as well see how it ended. It ended how it had to end. I should have probably DNF’d it.
May 14, 2024
the idea was there, but the execution wasn't.
January 9, 2024
What a wild book. This follows a Puerto Rican main character who wants to be a writer and quickly figures out he can become successful by fabricating stories about experiencing racism and oppression, fed by white peoples' desire to read these stories. I so enjoyed this well written, delusional main character who raises a ton of interesting questions about who's to blame here... Really enjoyed this and you will too if you liked YELLOWFACE or SALTBURN!
April 20, 2024
2024 reads, #22. I’ll admit, the initial reason I picked up Andrew Boryga’s stunning debut novel, the just released Victim, was because I was so entranced by the bitter cynicism behind the book’s concept; it’s a character-heavy drama about one of those people who have been popping up in the news semi-regularly in the last decade, a person of color who gets famous by writing gritty essays about the systemic racism and oppression he’s been experiencing his whole life, but who is eventually proven to have been lying the entire time and just making up the stories he’s been presenting as “true” to a fawning audience of guilty white liberals, his reputation destroyed while ironically accomplishing nothing except handing yet more ammunition to the far right, who use the now disgraced journalist’s fabrications as yet more evidence that “the Wokes” are a bunch of hypocritical, lying snowflakes.
And indeed, that’s what a huge portion of this book is legitimately about, and there’s no way of getting around the fact that Boryga (a Latino academic writer, just like his fictional stand-in Javier here) means for this to be a scathing indictment of the Woke Age we currently live in, whether he’s taking down the noble yet deeply flawed middle-class people of color who embrace angry polemic politics as a means of hiding their own gentrification aspirations (as best seen here in Javier’s college girlfriend, a fiery far-left liberal with unresolved daddy issues from being raised by a cop in a pleasant suburb of Albany, but who after graduation insists on moving to a nice section of Brooklyn where they have community gardens and organic vegan restaurants, instead of Javier’s insistence on moving back to his crappy childhood neighborhood in the Bronx, insisting that she can’t be a gentrifier because “she’s not white”); the misguided white academics who mean well but ironically are the ground-level disguised racists who create these situations in the first place (such as Javier’s high-school guidance counselor, who pushes him to apply for a full-ride scholarship to a thinly disguised Oberlin University by “playing up” his background as a fatherless Latino from the Bronx, but then bristles and literally tries to cover his tracks when Javier interprets his thoughts too literally and replies, “So I should write an essay about how I’m brown and poor, then?”); or the sociopathic marketing bros who are very happy to swoop in and skim off the top of these Woke times for easy profit, ethics be damned (such as the new young editor of a thinly disguised Village Voice, Javier’s post-college employer, who has been nationally praised for saving one of the last leftist weekly newspapers still left in the US, but has done so by basically turning the entire publication into a clickbait farm). All of those things are true about this book, and Boryga very deliberately means for these people in real life to be offended by his novel, and that’s something important for you to know before picking it up, if you happen to be one of these people yourself.
But what really blew me away here is that the book turns out to be about a lot more than this, and tells a more complicated and nuanced story than the easy headlines it’s been recently generating make it seem. First and foremost, for example, it’s ultimately the story of one particular person, the complex and multifaceted Javier at the heart of the controversy, a Puerto-Rican American who Boryga deliberately shows as coming from a long line of paternal con artists, and who is raised by his drug-dealing father (at least, before the drug-dealing father gets shot one day after an argument at a neighborhood picnic with one of his clients) to always be hustling, to always look out for himself, and to always understand that the picture you present of yourself to others will always be more important than the picture you have of yourself on the inside. That immensely helps this book from turning into a parade of cliches, because we understand that this is ultimately the story of one unique person and not just an indictment of the entire system (although it’s that as well). And more importantly, it makes it a much more engaging and entertaining read than if these had all been cartoon characters going through their 2D, cardboard-cutout motions.
And then there’s the thorny issue at the heart of these kinds of incidents, of how much of a person of color’s actions can be chalked up to the environment around them, and how much of their actions should be laid squarely at the feet of the person themselves, and the things they deliberately choose to do in life when they in fact didn’t need to do those particular things if they hadn’t wanted to. And Boryga does this in a very clever way, by simultaneously following the fate of Javier’s childhood best friend Gio, who is raised in a very similar way but with just a few changed details (both of Gio’s parents are dead instead of just his father, for example; he’s a little more embarrassed than Javier about his love for reading; he’s a little less afraid of the neighborhood gangsters, even while having the same exact ambition for money and fame that Javier does). As Gio heads to prison at the same time Javier heads to university, and then both of them reunite again in their late twenties, we can watch the complex and difficult-to-pinpoint ways their lives and attitudes both intertwine and intersect, Boryga doing so to hammer home the fact that all of us are simultaneously capable of great good and great evil all the time, and that the way we behave can’t just be broken down into simplistic statistics like education and background.
Plus there’s the fact that Boryga very purposely points out that there are very real and valid things to come out of our Woke Age too, as best seen in the way Javier legitimately now sees his old Bronx neighborhood in a different light once he graduates college and moves back, noticing for the first time how few grocery stores with decent produce there are there, how many fast-food places there are and how few healthy restaurants, how many cops there eternally are on their streets and how exactly those cops behave, versus the gingerly and always respectful actions of the police back on his university campus when dealing with the mostly upper-class, mostly lily-white populace of the school. That’s perhaps the one element here that most saves this from being a disappointing screed; for while Boryga absolutely has damning things to say about far-left liberals and the almost unsolvable mess they’ve created in the 21st century, he’s also careful to point out that there are valid reasons why it’s all become such a mess in the first place, and that there are very legitimate issues being brought up in this community that shouldn’t be ignored or shrugged away.
But what was the saving grace for me in particular -- and longtime friends will immediately understand why I loved this aspect of the book so much -- is that it’s a classic “anti-villain” story along the lines of Breaking Bad; so in other words, if the more well-known “anti-hero” in literature is someone who at first seems like they’re going to be the baddie, but then ends up being the protagonist of the story, an anti-villain is the exact opposite, someone who seems like a decent person at first, but whose behavior becomes more and more disgusting the further the story continues. And while I’ll let the end of this book remain spoiler-free, I can tell you that by the end of this novel, Javier’s actions are fucking reprehensible, the behavior of a person who has decided to insult and alienate every person who’s ever been important in his life, merely for his unquenchable chase for likes and retweets on social media, and the easy fame and glory that comes right after it. To me, that’s what really saves this book from being easy fodder for the alt-right; for by the end, Javier has stopped being a stand-in for his entire community and has instead become his own unique brand of monster, making it impossible to extrapolate his actions into a damnation of every far-left liberal who’s ever existed, even as Boryga has legitimately damning things to say about the “cancel culture” that has built up around these far-left liberals over the last twenty years.
It’s a mesmerizing book, told in a mesmerizing way, and that’s why today Victim becomes my second read of 2024 to eventually show up in my annual “best books of the year” list, coming later this December during the holidays. It will make many of my leftist friends mad, that’s undeniable; but the point Boryga so deftly makes here is that maybe you should be mad, for all of us creating a situation in the US so that there are no other choices anymore than to be either a communist or a fascist, foretelling an inevitable coming violent civil war that will be happening starting this November precisely because of it. Boryga argues here that maybe it’s time to step back and take a more complex, nuanced view of these subjects, and to stop letting our society be run through easy outrage and the cheeseburgers that are easily sold by exploiting this kneejerk anger. As a political centrist who’s been consistently told over the last twenty years that I should shut up and keep such opinions to myself, this book is a welcome breath of fresh air that particularly needs to exist in this specific time and place, and I encourage all of you to read it with this attitude in mind.
And indeed, that’s what a huge portion of this book is legitimately about, and there’s no way of getting around the fact that Boryga (a Latino academic writer, just like his fictional stand-in Javier here) means for this to be a scathing indictment of the Woke Age we currently live in, whether he’s taking down the noble yet deeply flawed middle-class people of color who embrace angry polemic politics as a means of hiding their own gentrification aspirations (as best seen here in Javier’s college girlfriend, a fiery far-left liberal with unresolved daddy issues from being raised by a cop in a pleasant suburb of Albany, but who after graduation insists on moving to a nice section of Brooklyn where they have community gardens and organic vegan restaurants, instead of Javier’s insistence on moving back to his crappy childhood neighborhood in the Bronx, insisting that she can’t be a gentrifier because “she’s not white”); the misguided white academics who mean well but ironically are the ground-level disguised racists who create these situations in the first place (such as Javier’s high-school guidance counselor, who pushes him to apply for a full-ride scholarship to a thinly disguised Oberlin University by “playing up” his background as a fatherless Latino from the Bronx, but then bristles and literally tries to cover his tracks when Javier interprets his thoughts too literally and replies, “So I should write an essay about how I’m brown and poor, then?”); or the sociopathic marketing bros who are very happy to swoop in and skim off the top of these Woke times for easy profit, ethics be damned (such as the new young editor of a thinly disguised Village Voice, Javier’s post-college employer, who has been nationally praised for saving one of the last leftist weekly newspapers still left in the US, but has done so by basically turning the entire publication into a clickbait farm). All of those things are true about this book, and Boryga very deliberately means for these people in real life to be offended by his novel, and that’s something important for you to know before picking it up, if you happen to be one of these people yourself.
But what really blew me away here is that the book turns out to be about a lot more than this, and tells a more complicated and nuanced story than the easy headlines it’s been recently generating make it seem. First and foremost, for example, it’s ultimately the story of one particular person, the complex and multifaceted Javier at the heart of the controversy, a Puerto-Rican American who Boryga deliberately shows as coming from a long line of paternal con artists, and who is raised by his drug-dealing father (at least, before the drug-dealing father gets shot one day after an argument at a neighborhood picnic with one of his clients) to always be hustling, to always look out for himself, and to always understand that the picture you present of yourself to others will always be more important than the picture you have of yourself on the inside. That immensely helps this book from turning into a parade of cliches, because we understand that this is ultimately the story of one unique person and not just an indictment of the entire system (although it’s that as well). And more importantly, it makes it a much more engaging and entertaining read than if these had all been cartoon characters going through their 2D, cardboard-cutout motions.
And then there’s the thorny issue at the heart of these kinds of incidents, of how much of a person of color’s actions can be chalked up to the environment around them, and how much of their actions should be laid squarely at the feet of the person themselves, and the things they deliberately choose to do in life when they in fact didn’t need to do those particular things if they hadn’t wanted to. And Boryga does this in a very clever way, by simultaneously following the fate of Javier’s childhood best friend Gio, who is raised in a very similar way but with just a few changed details (both of Gio’s parents are dead instead of just his father, for example; he’s a little more embarrassed than Javier about his love for reading; he’s a little less afraid of the neighborhood gangsters, even while having the same exact ambition for money and fame that Javier does). As Gio heads to prison at the same time Javier heads to university, and then both of them reunite again in their late twenties, we can watch the complex and difficult-to-pinpoint ways their lives and attitudes both intertwine and intersect, Boryga doing so to hammer home the fact that all of us are simultaneously capable of great good and great evil all the time, and that the way we behave can’t just be broken down into simplistic statistics like education and background.
Plus there’s the fact that Boryga very purposely points out that there are very real and valid things to come out of our Woke Age too, as best seen in the way Javier legitimately now sees his old Bronx neighborhood in a different light once he graduates college and moves back, noticing for the first time how few grocery stores with decent produce there are there, how many fast-food places there are and how few healthy restaurants, how many cops there eternally are on their streets and how exactly those cops behave, versus the gingerly and always respectful actions of the police back on his university campus when dealing with the mostly upper-class, mostly lily-white populace of the school. That’s perhaps the one element here that most saves this from being a disappointing screed; for while Boryga absolutely has damning things to say about far-left liberals and the almost unsolvable mess they’ve created in the 21st century, he’s also careful to point out that there are valid reasons why it’s all become such a mess in the first place, and that there are very legitimate issues being brought up in this community that shouldn’t be ignored or shrugged away.
But what was the saving grace for me in particular -- and longtime friends will immediately understand why I loved this aspect of the book so much -- is that it’s a classic “anti-villain” story along the lines of Breaking Bad; so in other words, if the more well-known “anti-hero” in literature is someone who at first seems like they’re going to be the baddie, but then ends up being the protagonist of the story, an anti-villain is the exact opposite, someone who seems like a decent person at first, but whose behavior becomes more and more disgusting the further the story continues. And while I’ll let the end of this book remain spoiler-free, I can tell you that by the end of this novel, Javier’s actions are fucking reprehensible, the behavior of a person who has decided to insult and alienate every person who’s ever been important in his life, merely for his unquenchable chase for likes and retweets on social media, and the easy fame and glory that comes right after it. To me, that’s what really saves this book from being easy fodder for the alt-right; for by the end, Javier has stopped being a stand-in for his entire community and has instead become his own unique brand of monster, making it impossible to extrapolate his actions into a damnation of every far-left liberal who’s ever existed, even as Boryga has legitimately damning things to say about the “cancel culture” that has built up around these far-left liberals over the last twenty years.
It’s a mesmerizing book, told in a mesmerizing way, and that’s why today Victim becomes my second read of 2024 to eventually show up in my annual “best books of the year” list, coming later this December during the holidays. It will make many of my leftist friends mad, that’s undeniable; but the point Boryga so deftly makes here is that maybe you should be mad, for all of us creating a situation in the US so that there are no other choices anymore than to be either a communist or a fascist, foretelling an inevitable coming violent civil war that will be happening starting this November precisely because of it. Boryga argues here that maybe it’s time to step back and take a more complex, nuanced view of these subjects, and to stop letting our society be run through easy outrage and the cheeseburgers that are easily sold by exploiting this kneejerk anger. As a political centrist who’s been consistently told over the last twenty years that I should shut up and keep such opinions to myself, this book is a welcome breath of fresh air that particularly needs to exist in this specific time and place, and I encourage all of you to read it with this attitude in mind.
June 24, 2024
On the one hand we have Andrew Boryga, a prize-winning writer of New Yorker & Atlantic stories; on the other, a reader. Between them is the former’s book Victim. The latter disagrees with the rave reviews of professional critics. That’s the situation here; feel free to stop immediately.
Victim is presented as a satire of today’s inclusive, non-judgmental, woke society, so a review of the book must evaluate it on those terms; exaggerated, one-dimensional, cardboard characters do not constitute a failure in a book of that sort (although they are kind of annoying). My objection is to the identification of the protagonist as a hustler, an astute manipulator, when all he does is utilize opportunities in the same way that water runs downhill - because the path is there. It’s like the difference between a guy stumbling across a mislaid purse and helping himself to the contents, and a gang tunneling into a bank and using specialized knowledge/equipment to get at the safety-deposit boxes. The book’s only actual exploiters of society’s foolish preoccupations are white men - his high school counselor, the magazine publisher who shapes and promotes his material, the agent who suggests that he write a book and slant it whatever way will enhance sales. The protagonist is not a hustler; he is analogous to the nutshell the real hustler doesn’t hide the pea under, and Victim is not Animal Farm.
Victim is presented as a satire of today’s inclusive, non-judgmental, woke society, so a review of the book must evaluate it on those terms; exaggerated, one-dimensional, cardboard characters do not constitute a failure in a book of that sort (although they are kind of annoying). My objection is to the identification of the protagonist as a hustler, an astute manipulator, when all he does is utilize opportunities in the same way that water runs downhill - because the path is there. It’s like the difference between a guy stumbling across a mislaid purse and helping himself to the contents, and a gang tunneling into a bank and using specialized knowledge/equipment to get at the safety-deposit boxes. The book’s only actual exploiters of society’s foolish preoccupations are white men - his high school counselor, the magazine publisher who shapes and promotes his material, the agent who suggests that he write a book and slant it whatever way will enhance sales. The protagonist is not a hustler; he is analogous to the nutshell the real hustler doesn’t hide the pea under, and Victim is not Animal Farm.
February 12, 2024
ARC gifted by the publisher
A hustler from a family of hustlers, Javier Perez learns from an early age how to play the perfect victim to his advantage—murdered drug dealer dad, single cash-strapped mom, best friend serving time for gang activity. As Javi gets closer to his dream of becoming a famous writer, he continues to walk the line of bending the truth. But when does it become a lie?
VICTIM is an ingenious fiction that examines click-bait media, the responsibility & complicity of readers pigeonholing writers of color for trauma porn, the problems behind "gamifying" diversity programs, and so many other thought-provoking themes perfect for book club discussions.
I particularly loved the inclusion of Latinx characters across class to show the hypocrisy of affluent POCs who have the luxury of philosophical debates while others are just trying to survive and have no time for activism. The analysis on whether one should use their diversity card to their advantage is another interesting angle that will stimulate lots of thoughts.
I don't want to give too much away, but VICTIM is retrospectively written from Javi's POV as a "memoir." I find the whole concept so meta, considering that the different articles Javi has written over his career are hyperfocused on generating sympathy for his own advancement. By the end of the story, I can't help but wonder who VICTIM is truly written for and question whether my empathy for Javi results from narrative manipulation.
A hustler from a family of hustlers, Javier Perez learns from an early age how to play the perfect victim to his advantage—murdered drug dealer dad, single cash-strapped mom, best friend serving time for gang activity. As Javi gets closer to his dream of becoming a famous writer, he continues to walk the line of bending the truth. But when does it become a lie?
VICTIM is an ingenious fiction that examines click-bait media, the responsibility & complicity of readers pigeonholing writers of color for trauma porn, the problems behind "gamifying" diversity programs, and so many other thought-provoking themes perfect for book club discussions.
I particularly loved the inclusion of Latinx characters across class to show the hypocrisy of affluent POCs who have the luxury of philosophical debates while others are just trying to survive and have no time for activism. The analysis on whether one should use their diversity card to their advantage is another interesting angle that will stimulate lots of thoughts.
I don't want to give too much away, but VICTIM is retrospectively written from Javi's POV as a "memoir." I find the whole concept so meta, considering that the different articles Javi has written over his career are hyperfocused on generating sympathy for his own advancement. By the end of the story, I can't help but wonder who VICTIM is truly written for and question whether my empathy for Javi results from narrative manipulation.
July 10, 2023
It is interesting what a marginalized character goes through to be accepted by the dominating white spheres, whether in workspaces, gentrified neighborhoods, or at most universities in America. This narrative parallels Paul Beatty's writings, particularly on a kid's hustle to create, lie and perform to enter specific social ecosystems.
As a woman with Puerto Rican heritage, born in the Bronx, raised in the suburbs, and much later came back and lived in the Bronx, this novel was remarkable because I rarely read about communities I know. All of the primary characters in the story are personalities that are known to me in some aspect from living in NYC -- struggling with racism, prejudices, and microaggressions from their loved ones, predominantly white strangers in all spaces. Often, in these white spheres, they are the ones who dictate the terms and agreements of the oppressed and what a character must be like to be on their exclusive stage.
I enjoy the pacing of the story, plus its satirical jabs here and there. And the author did a great job connecting me to Javi's journey; even though I disagreed with his victimhood schemes, his experience felt genuine and authentic enough for me to keep reading.
As a woman with Puerto Rican heritage, born in the Bronx, raised in the suburbs, and much later came back and lived in the Bronx, this novel was remarkable because I rarely read about communities I know. All of the primary characters in the story are personalities that are known to me in some aspect from living in NYC -- struggling with racism, prejudices, and microaggressions from their loved ones, predominantly white strangers in all spaces. Often, in these white spheres, they are the ones who dictate the terms and agreements of the oppressed and what a character must be like to be on their exclusive stage.
I enjoy the pacing of the story, plus its satirical jabs here and there. And the author did a great job connecting me to Javi's journey; even though I disagreed with his victimhood schemes, his experience felt genuine and authentic enough for me to keep reading.
June 12, 2024
The literary equivalent of "could've been an email."
I have so many thoughts and zero confidence that I'll be able to articulate any of them?
At the end of the day, this book isn't funny, subtle, or compelling enough to succeed as satire. I wanted to empathize with Javi, but after the ~200ish pages it takes for things to really start heating up (it's a roughly 260 page book, btw) I barely knew anything about him other than that he grew up in the Bronx, is heterosexual, Puerto Rican, and... aspires to be a famous writer? But WHY? This is literally never addressed, other than that it's mentioned numerous times that that's what he wants to do. Money is also repeatedly referenced as a motivation, but again, WHY? Combine that with superficial secondary characters and a predictable plot, and I'm just not sure what the buzz is about here.
Also it was hard for me to buy Javi getting all this fawning attention for his essays etc when they're excerpted throughout the book and the quality is mid at best.
I have so many thoughts and zero confidence that I'll be able to articulate any of them?
At the end of the day, this book isn't funny, subtle, or compelling enough to succeed as satire. I wanted to empathize with Javi, but after the ~200ish pages it takes for things to really start heating up (it's a roughly 260 page book, btw) I barely knew anything about him other than that he grew up in the Bronx, is heterosexual, Puerto Rican, and... aspires to be a famous writer? But WHY? This is literally never addressed, other than that it's mentioned numerous times that that's what he wants to do. Money is also repeatedly referenced as a motivation, but again, WHY? Combine that with superficial secondary characters and a predictable plot, and I'm just not sure what the buzz is about here.
Also it was hard for me to buy Javi getting all this fawning attention for his essays etc when they're excerpted throughout the book and the quality is mid at best.
May 13, 2024
Boryga can tell a good story about the ever prevalent topic of victimhood. It's obvious in this novel that he's got a knack for non-fiction as he simply wants to get to the conflict, the outcome, and the take away. It's straightforward. Clear. No room for reader's interpretation about the facts, the motives. But the "telling not showing" style of this book leaves a lot to be desired emotionally. You won't grow attached to these characters and their circumstances because Boryga doesn't bother to spend much time with them. Years are passed in a few pages, and so much is loss in the ones left out.
July 10, 2024
Victim is the clever semi-autobiographical debut novel by Andrew Boryga, in which he explores how quickly the mainstream public is to embrace and cheer on the “oppressed/victimhood.”
I know many people are saying that this has emerged as a hot new phenomenon in fiction (trauma porn) but aside from R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface from last year, I’m not really sure what other books are being discussed on this topic. If anyone does know something I’m missing, feel free to enlighten me.
Moving on, it’s really not that much like Yellowface, where the only two parallels are that both MCs are writers profiting off minority status, inherently flawed, and to some, rather unlikeable.
I would argue that not only do their flaws make their characters more human, but Javi, the MC of this book, was much more encouraged, IMO, to write what satisfied the audiences. Javi is a lot more relatable in that sense. June flat out stole a manuscript from her friend. Come on now.
The book can be read so quickly and it’s humorous and the satire isn’t overdone, at least not to me. Had the book droned on for 400 pages, then yeah, I’d probably have rated it lower. But if this is a newly emerging trend in fiction, then I’m all too happy to embrace it, as opposed to the constant-PC stuff being shoved down my throat.
It’s hard to sway someone to your side of the argument by demanding they do so. Even then, do people really buy into all this, or are they staying silent out of fear of not wanting to be labeled an anti-_____ ? (insert minority group here).
The introductory quote to the book by James Baldwin stuck with me:
”Perhaps the turning point in one’s life is realizing that to be treated like a victim is not necessarily to become one.”
As well as Javi’s own motivation for writing the book. Potential spoiler!
Exactly. We’re complicit in this mess. It’s one thing to recognize a true victim or understand oppression, but continuously telling someone they’re a victim, celebrating it, with no rational solutions in mind, is ridiculous. Victims are eventually supposed to overcome their trauma, not be defined by it.
3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
I know many people are saying that this has emerged as a hot new phenomenon in fiction (trauma porn) but aside from R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface from last year, I’m not really sure what other books are being discussed on this topic. If anyone does know something I’m missing, feel free to enlighten me.
Moving on, it’s really not that much like Yellowface, where the only two parallels are that both MCs are writers profiting off minority status, inherently flawed, and to some, rather unlikeable.
I would argue that not only do their flaws make their characters more human, but Javi, the MC of this book, was much more encouraged, IMO, to write what satisfied the audiences. Javi is a lot more relatable in that sense. June flat out stole a manuscript from her friend. Come on now.
The book can be read so quickly and it’s humorous and the satire isn’t overdone, at least not to me. Had the book droned on for 400 pages, then yeah, I’d probably have rated it lower. But if this is a newly emerging trend in fiction, then I’m all too happy to embrace it, as opposed to the constant-PC stuff being shoved down my throat.
It’s hard to sway someone to your side of the argument by demanding they do so. Even then, do people really buy into all this, or are they staying silent out of fear of not wanting to be labeled an anti-_____ ? (insert minority group here).
The introductory quote to the book by James Baldwin stuck with me:
”Perhaps the turning point in one’s life is realizing that to be treated like a victim is not necessarily to become one.”
As well as Javi’s own motivation for writing the book. Potential spoiler!
Exactly. We’re complicit in this mess. It’s one thing to recognize a true victim or understand oppression, but continuously telling someone they’re a victim, celebrating it, with no rational solutions in mind, is ridiculous. Victims are eventually supposed to overcome their trauma, not be defined by it.
3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
January 31, 2025
3.5 I really couldn’t stand Javi. That’s why it took so long to finish lol
January 15, 2025
If you’re a fan of Yellowface or the film American Fiction, you’ll likely enjoy this one. I enjoyed it for sure!
November 25, 2023
Javier is a hustler from a family of hustlers. He learned from his drug dealing dad how to play the game, and he’s used it to his advantage. In college his girlfriend pushed him to use his past to his advantage on the school newspaper. From there it morphed into writing a column. Then one of his stories goes viral and he lands a staff writing position for a magazine for his “unique perspective”. All is looking up until he is doing an interview and his now scorned ex-girlfriend calls in a tip that he has embellished certain parts of his past to his advantage. Will this be the end of his career, or another thing to profit from?
This book was thought provoking and poignant. Making up being a victim so you can cash in on it, is never something that even remotely crossed my mind as something someone would do, so in that regard this book was eye opening as well. I will give it props for being creative in that regard. The character was so unlikeable, but I wanted to keep reading. It reminded me much of the saying of not wanting to look away from a train wreck actually, so I think that it hit the satire nail on the head. I enjoyed this book as much as I enjoyed Yellowface, which is also satire, and that was a lot. Both books deal with race and injustice in the world as well. This book also did a fantastic job at making me feel uncomfortable at times, I wasn’t sure if I should feel bad for Javi or sympathize with him. While there wasn’t much to like about him, I did enjoy his snark.
If you are looking for a satire that will make you feel uncomfortable, but is so good, then check this one out.
Thank you so much to Doubleday, @Doubleday and Netgalley @Netgalley for this e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
This book was thought provoking and poignant. Making up being a victim so you can cash in on it, is never something that even remotely crossed my mind as something someone would do, so in that regard this book was eye opening as well. I will give it props for being creative in that regard. The character was so unlikeable, but I wanted to keep reading. It reminded me much of the saying of not wanting to look away from a train wreck actually, so I think that it hit the satire nail on the head. I enjoyed this book as much as I enjoyed Yellowface, which is also satire, and that was a lot. Both books deal with race and injustice in the world as well. This book also did a fantastic job at making me feel uncomfortable at times, I wasn’t sure if I should feel bad for Javi or sympathize with him. While there wasn’t much to like about him, I did enjoy his snark.
If you are looking for a satire that will make you feel uncomfortable, but is so good, then check this one out.
Thank you so much to Doubleday, @Doubleday and Netgalley @Netgalley for this e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
January 31, 2024
The epigraph for this book was perfectly chosen. It is a quote from James Baldwin, “ perhaps the turning point in one’s life is realizing that to be treated like a victim is not necessarily to become one.” That quote tells you exactly where the book is going and the author does it with humor, irony, and great pacing. This is a coming of age story. Javier, the protagonist, went from a rough neighborhood in the Bronx to an elite school in upstate New York. His best friend, dropped out of high school, and went to prison for selling drugs. While Javier was in college, he was taught by his peers that he was a victim of society. He started to use the victim rhetoric to get the girl he wanted, become a big man on campus, and eventually to capitalize on it for his career. This is an easy and fun read that pokes fun at the overuse of underprivileged. It has a propulsive plot, and a very satisfying ending. I highly recommend this book. 4.5 stars
Displaying 1 - 30 of 723 reviews