I liked this book a lot. It had interesting ideas to think about and characters I cared for along with a list of literature that I can add to my reading list. ( )

I had a hard time getting into this book. Parts of it were thought-provoking as the author explored some interesting issues. However, much of it was tedius. ( )

I picked this up because [b:Emperor of Scent|50138|Emperor of Scent|Chandler Burr|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266459594s/50138.jpg|49010] was one of my favorite nonfiction books of the last few years, and I wanted to give the author's fiction a chance.

I am still trying to sort through the unexpectedly deep thoughts and emotions this book raised in me (which took me completely by surprise). The title and the cover art both suggest, to me, something fluffy and possibly chick-lit, and I've decided I find both totally inappropriate. The cover should be more somber and thoughtful, and the title shouldn't sound like a Matchbox 20 album.

I confess that this book may have hit me a little harder than it would others because of the uniqueness of my experience: I am a girl with (apparently) a very Jewish last name, but I am not Jewish, and I knew almost no Jews growing up. So when I moved to New York, it came as a shock to me that everyone assumed I was Jewish (people constantly gave me helpful tips on where to find kosher food, for example). I also did not immediately understand why, when on a date with a nice boy we'll call Avi, not only did he not laugh when I relayed some stories of my mistaken identity, but the temperature dropped twenty degrees and the date ended shortly thereafter.

I promise, this relates to the book. I found myself contemplating two profound questions by the end of it, one of which was -- to what extent does organized religion, perhaps especially Judaism, rely for its survival on intolerance, on in-group/out-group distinctions that would in other contexts be unacceptable? I get the sense that for those raised in New York this may not be a new question, but for me it was, and the fictional backstory threw the question into sharp and emotional relief for me (the characters, and their marriage, had become quite real to me).

The second question I considered was this: to what extent does Love (capital L, the stuff on which marriages are based) require you to continue loving someone even when they begin to change, even when they are arguably no longer the same person? Is it true that Love alters not when it alteration finds? Or is there some point past which it is simply impossible to apply the same term to what you feel for something/someone so different from that which originally inspired Love? Why don't we talk more about where or what this point is? How much can I change and still expect my husband to love me -- is there an answer to that question? What if I converted to a dramatically different religion, one that changed the way I talked and thought and dressed and prioritized, that changed my friendships and my work and my basic interactions with my family? Am I still the same person? If my husband were the one undergoing this change, can I be confident that I would still feel the same longing for, desire for, connection to, the person he'd become? And if I didn't, what then?

Again, it may well be the case that these are not new questions for others, but they hit me very hard, and I was impressed that this book was the one that brought them to me and forced me to spend long hours considering them.

For literature snobs, there are also a million classics references: Wharton, Tolstoy, James, Shakespeare, and Dostoyevsky are just a handful of the names that come to mind. So on top of everything else, this book also made me want to add about thirty books to my already swollen to-read list. ( )

I've had to consider this book for a few days before sharing my opinion and I am still not exactly sure how it will go. I was so enamoured with the premise that I bought You or Someone Like You only to receive a copy from the publisher a few days later. With my schedule rather tight it took some time for me to squeeze it in only to discover it was not what I had expected at all.
Less a story and more an extended lecture, You or Someone Like You is a satirical rumination on literature, philosophy and religion. Laced with irony and purposefully inflammatory it is interesting to read but as a novel is just barely held together by what I felt to be a shallow plot that is simply a coat hanger for much bigger ideas.
There are so many ideas in this book, the value of literature, religious belief, cultural identity, morality and the author is deliberately provocative. I was fascinated as he pulled at the threads of hypocrisy and challenged to consider the viewpoints he explores.
Literature is a key feature of the novel and the book extensively quotes from classic works. The constant references seem a little pretentious to me though that may well be the point, but for the protagonist Anne, literature is her means of articulating herself and her ideas and understanding and interpreting her experience. Taken at face value, the author seems to be lamenting the degradation of literacy. Burr emphasises that literature is a mirror that reflects the truth but I think I detect a thread of subtle warning, that it's interpretation has an ambiguity that we need to question in relate to our own life and experience. For me this is most clearly illustrated as Anne's relationships disintegrate.
Cultural, religious and racial identity is another major theme of You Or Someone Like You. As an agnostic who lives in a country without a strong national or cultural identity I found this to be the most interesting thread of the novel. Burr uses Judaism to illustrate the inherent conflicts and hypocrisies of identity but I feel you could substitute any almost any religious or cultural group that believes in some manner of exclusion and it still be relevant. Judaism is simply the example Burr uses to communicate and explore the complications of society.
You or Someone Like you was not an easy read, it is slow and dense and I never particularly warmed to Anne but there are some very astute observations hidden amongst the overblown language and deliberate controversy. This novel needs to be approached with a critical eye to what lays beneath the surface. I can imagine it would certainly make for a fiery book club discussion but You or Someone Like You will not be for everyone. ( )

I don't feel equal to the task of reviewing this book. Some may view this remark as a conceit on the book's topic.

Without wishing to be too simplistic, the book is essentially about discrimination. Oh yes - and change.

So, why don't I feel equal to the task? Because when one takes a point of view, one must be prepared to justify it. I think this book is great. The bees knees and the ants pants. But I don't feel I have the qualifications/knowledge/authority to say, this is a great book. I feel like one of those klutzes that hears great music and says "That was fantastic!" - but can't articulate why.

I confess I am quite intimidated by the central character. Now she would be qualified to review this book! I loathed her to begin with. To be really simplistic, she seemed like a pretentious snob. Oh but how carefully, Mr Burr pulls us in to her world, her point of view. She changes, in our mind, from being some crackpot who talks to her husband in literary allusions into a woman going through an annus horribulus.

But I am being too simplistic again. Everytime I attempt to describe this book it morphs and changes into something else...thus becoming what it is describing. First I think it's a book about racism. Then about parenting. Then about loving. Then about writing or language.

I'm a bit of a luddite when it comes to matters of philosophy but I think Burr is attempting to wrestle with the essentially Western way of viewing the world - possibly inherited from Greek philosophers and I am happy for others to leap in here and give guidance....the notion that we tend to see things in terms of a dialectic - black/white, yes/no, us/them. For one thing to exist, the other must not type of thing.

Literature gives us the opportunity to see things from a different perspective - the outsider looking in. What is great literature? Heck I certainly haven't read enough of it. I was however heartened to see that Edward Lear and A.A. Milne made Burr's list. When it comes to matters of philosophy, I'm a firm believer in nonsense.

But enough about me....what do you think...of me? Is the fundamental question of this book. Ask it of yourself... ( )