Opening Line
The book’s very opening line is a metaphor, one that references the novella, Heart of Darkness. It will not be the last reference to Joseph Conrad the reader comes across in the story.
“It was a perfect African night, straight out of Conrad: the air was pasty and still with humidity; the night smelled of burnt flesh and fecundity; the darkness outside was spacious and uncarvable.”
Bosnian War
The historical backdrop against which all the stories are set and which becomes an element of thematic unification is the war in Bosnia. The narrator’s family emigrated to America from Yugoslavia. Yugoslavia, of course, is famous today for not existing; the very country itself became a victim of the war. Thus, the war—though far away—carries an ironic significance and it is only apt that it be viewed at times through a metaphorical lens:
“But see, for us, the war was elating, the freedom inherent in erasure, the absolute righteousness of our cause—we loved it all. Everything looked more beautiful from the top of the Mountain of Doom.”
The Riddler
The narrator describes a scene where a man from Sarajevo poses a complicated and seemingly unsolvable riddle to a man from Serbian. As the latter mulls over potential solutions to the riddle, the narrator notices the man from Sarajevo looking at him, instantly adopting a metaphorical aspect for the young writer:
“The Sarajevan watched me, wistfully stroking his three-day beard, as though remembering himself when he used to be my age, before he boarded the drunken boat of adulthood, before he knew the answer to the riddle.”
“We live as we dream. Alone.”
The book has reached the point of making another connection with Joseph Conrad. (Or, for others, British post-punk band Gang of Four.) Whether the phrase is familiar from Heart of Darkness or the title of a rock song, the metaphor is chilling in its potential meaning. For the character who quotes the line (included here with the book’s addition of the F-word before “alone”), however, it is a metaphor without foundation. He speaks it as a philosophical observation and when he is informed of its origin by the narrator, his response is frenetic: “No, no, no, no, never, sir. That ain’t no Joe Conrad. That’s the truth.”
The Thing About Americans
The narrator gets stuck as a one-person audience for a story he admits is incomprehensible to him and the unlucky incident produces a metaphorical application to a behavioral quirk that is apparently not only limited to those who do it, but unrecognized by them as well:
“I found myself nodding meaninglessly, like a congenitally embarrassed American, to convey that he had my support and understanding, even if I could not comprehend what he was talking about.”
