"We enjoy this illusion of continuity, and we call it memory. Which explains, perhaps, why our worst fear isn't the end of life but the end of memories."
"The Imperfectionists" read like an exasperated love note to journalism. Tom Rachman undoubtedly drew on a number of personal experiences in constructing this behind-the-scenes look at a struggling international newspaper against a Rome backdrop.
The book is peopled with odd, disturbed characters, rendered in a series of vignettes that eventually (partially) intertwine. As a former journalist, I recognized so many of the characters and so many of the challenges that Rachman so deftly explores.
"Here is a fact: nothing in all civilization has been as productive as ludicrous ambition. Whatever its ills, nothing has created more. Cathedrals, sonatas, encyclopedias: love of God was not behind them, nor love of life. But the love of man to be worshipped by man."
Rachman offers a few nice twists and the occasional hysterical character (Rich Snyder injected so much fun into the middle of the story), but I did have a few issues bringing these disparate pieces into a coherent whole.
Yet this is a mere quibble. In its entirety, Rachman has created a fully realized world in an easy-to-digest way, making "The Imperfectionists" a high-energy, fun read in a time that desperately calls for such things.
"The paper -- that daily report on the idiocy and the brilliance of the species -- had never before missed an appointment. Now it was gone."
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