Publishers Weekly
★ 08/21/2023
Critic and novelist Cole (Open City) explores such philosophical questions as, “How is one to live without owning others? Who is this world for?” in his remarkable and experimental latest. It begins like autofiction; a 40-something photographer and Harvard art history professor named Tunde, who is of Nigerian descent, meditates on authenticity and colonialism while shopping for antiques with his wife in Maine, where he buys a ci wara headdress from West Africa for $250, its only difference from those that go for six figures being its lack of “provenance.” Cole then takes a thrilling point-of-view swerve by addressing a mysterious “you” character, an unnamed friend of Tunde’s who died three years earlier. Another turn comes in the form of a lecture Tunde gives at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, where he poses discomfiting questions about the white art world’s paternalistic attitudes toward African art. Tunde also interrogates his own classism, remembering how as a young man he photographed African street vendors in Paris and incurred their rage, and explores his passion for what Americans call “world music,” including desert blues and Malian pop. Elsewhere, the narrative departs from Tunde and gives voice, successively, to 24 residents of contemporary Lagos, their vignettes depicting a taxi driver’s capricious client, a woman’s legal battle with her sexist siblings over their family estate, and a breathtaking description of a painter making public and ephemeral art on a bridge. Everything hangs together brilliantly, due to Cole’s subtle provocations and his passion for art and music. It’s a splendid feast for the senses. (Oct.)
From the Publisher
In . . . Tremor, all of Teju Cole’s capacities are present. . . . The reader [is] first seduced by Cole’s mastery of anecdote before being immersed in rich, sometimes discomfiting ideas.”—The New York Times
“Cole exposes the stain of history and the constant presence of racism, fear and violence in Tunde’s daily life, raising questions about the role these things play in our art and, more specifically, in the novel. Tremor is a commentary on—or perhaps an answer to—the criticism that autofiction often focuses on upper-class white people.”—Los Angeles Times
“Poignant and playfully polyphonic.”—Financial Times
“This extraordinary, ambitious novel . . . breaks new ground.”—The Times
“[Tremor] is a high-wire act, beating its own, defiant path through the weightless air.”—The Nation
“Exaggerated rumors about the death of the novel have been spreading for at least a century, but I’m not concerned about its imminent demise. . . . Anyone who doubts how effectively this elderly literary genre might survive and evolve to reflect an impossibly complicated world would do well to read Teju Cole’s involute new book, Tremor. . . . Cole continues to demonstrate just how elastic a novel can be and how trenchant he is. . . . Tenaciously alive.”—Ron Charles, The Washington Post
“An intimate novel about destabilization and catastrophe, Tremor roves freely across time, form, geography. Supple and sinuous, it is a dazzling performance from one of the most brilliant and singular minds at work today.”—Katie Kitamura, author of Intimacies
“Teju Cole’s writing always amazes me—its beauty, intimacy, complexity, and clarity. Tremor is a quietly dazzling book. With vitality and poise, it offers a new view of what is concealed in the narration of histories, the composition of a photograph, the fragrance in a bar of soap, the existential fury of a vendor selling trinkets to tourists.”—Deborah Levy, author of The Cost of Living
“A masterful novel by one of America’s finest writers . . . Cole is not just offering us a novel about art, migration, or marginalisation, rather a new politics of seeing, reading and thinking.”—The Daily Telegraph
“A provocative and profound meditation on art and life in a world of terror.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Dazzling . . . a thrilling and important work.”—BookPage (starred review)
“[Cole’s] remarkable and experimental latest . . . begins like autofiction [before taking] a thrilling point-of-view swerve. . . . It’s a splendid feast for the senses.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Lyrical and beautiful.”—Booklist
Library Journal
★ 07/01/2023
At the heart of Cole's remarkable new novel is Tunde, a Nigerian American man teaching photography at Harvard who reflects deeply on the past brutality of white Westerners, its continuing resonance and enactment, cultural theft and the need for restitution, the artist's responsibility not to objectify, music as his shield in a white-centered world, and the imagery, ritual, and import of death while clarifying throughout the importance of the personal. It's a novel of ideas, then, but whether Tunde is presented in first or third person, lecturing students, conducting a gallery talk about J.M.W. Turner's profoundly unsettling painting Slave Ship, or recalling past passion and the love and complications of his marriage, the protagonist emerges as assuredly "like life"—not merely lifelike, a distinction he makes as a photographer. Meanwhile, several chapters in the middle of the narrative switch from Tunde's personal viewpoint to multiple stories about the residents of Lagos, a city depicted in all its vibrancy and wastage as being like a film shot from a moving car. These stories add color and context to Tunde's perceptions without taking readers far from his intriguing story. VERDICT Unique and important fiction following 2007's Open City and several significant nonfiction volumes; highly recommended.—Barbara Hoffert
NOVEMBER 2023 - AudioFile
Atta Otigba and Yetide Badaki give outstanding performances of this imagistic, nonlinear novel. They are grand guides to a world of art, history, and criticism. Badaki has precise diction and a lovely artistic tone with a slight Nigerian lilt. Otigba, also Nigerian, delivers his parts in a powerful and authoritative voice. The narrative switches from one to the other seamlessly. Badaki introduces the protagonist, a photographer and professor of art, who, like the author, teaches at Harvard. The peripatetic novel includes riffs on music and a powerful lecture on J.M.W. Turner's painting SLAVE SHIP. Cole also captures the complexity of love and marriage in this distinctly postmodern work. A.D.M. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2023, Portland, Maine
Kirkus Reviews
★ 2023-07-13
Cole’s first novel in 12 years provides a master class in the morality of art as an Ivy League professor revisits his Nigerian homeland and confronts his doubleness.
Like his protagonist, Tunde, the novelist is a Harvard professor, raised in Lagos, a photographer and writer and cultural critic with a seemingly omnivorous appetite for artistic expression. (They even share an occasional vision problem in one eye.) But this thematically multilayered novel has much higher ambitions than fictionalized memoir. It’s a novel of ideas but also of voices, of different perspectives claiming the first-person narrative I. The precision of detail stresses the importance of seeing, but identity, perspective, and context determine who is seeing what. Tunde experiences push back over what and whom he shoots in his photos. He raises questions in the classroom and public lectures about who determines the value of a work and who profits from it, as he lives within a realm of white privilege that plunders and dehumanizes so much of the globe. “After nearly three decades in the U.S. his sympathies have been tutored in certain directions,” Cole writes. “He learned early that a ‘terrible tragedy’ meant the victims were white.” Tensions in Tunde’s marriage to a woman of Japanese descent send him to revisit Lagos, which he sees with fresh eyes. Always looming is the possibility in the title, the tremor of an earthquake, another natural disaster, or a medical diagnosis. He lives in a world where everything seemingly solid shifts but where the richness of Coltrane and Calvino, Bergman and Monk not only persists but illuminates. “How great is what surrounds us,” he feels, in a shift of perspective, “how insubstantial what preoccupies us.”
A provocative and profound meditation on art and life in a world of terror.