19 Oct Book Review of People Like Us
Book Review: People Like Us by Jason Mott
As summer slowly fades and the leaves hint at the promise of fall, I often crave a transition in my reading—something a bit more layered and profound than the beach reads of July. So when People Like Us landed on my desk, I was intrigued not just by its striking cover but by the promise of Jason Mott, a National Book Award winner, delivering a narrative that balances humor with serious themes. I dove right in, and boy, am I glad I did.
People Like Us introduces us to two male, Black writers whose lives intersect in fascinating ways. Soot, the first narrator, grappling with personal grief and societal issues, retraces his steps to school shooting sites, not just to speak, but to reconcile his haunting past—his daughter moving into adulthood and a marriage that’s no more. On the other hand, we find an unnamed narrator who has just clinched that ever-elusive “Big One,” and as he embarks on a speaking tour across Europe, he navigates unexpected twists—a hitman named Remus, a curious obsession with Nicolas Cage, and a reunion with an old flame that unfolds in the most unexpected place: a hospital elevator.
What struck me most was Mott’s ability to render two distinct voices. Soot’s narrative is quiet, somber, and reflective, and it beautifully captures the weight of his experiences. Meanwhile, the unnamed narrator’s sections are more lyrical and vibrant, resembling the rhythms of poetry or hip-hop. Mott expertly paces the story to play off these contrasting styles, drawing me deeper into both characters’ journeys. I felt as if I were experiencing two tales crafted by two different authors, each with their unique touch to life’s absurdities and truths.
The themes of identity, belonging, and the nuanced experience of Black manhood resonate throughout the novel. There are moments that feel achingly relevant, like the unnamed narrator’s contemplation on being an outsider: “What do we have? We don’t even have the South, which is the closest thing we’ll ever get to a homeland.” It made me wonder about my own place in the world and how closely it mirrors theirs. Mott’s prose shimmers with memorable lines, such as his observation of Paris—“every brick looks like it’s made of old money”—which encapsulates the intersection of wealth and history in such a vivid picture.
One highlight for me was the running gag that had me chuckling throughout—a gentle reminder of the absurdity that we often overlook in serious situations. It’s this blend of humor against poignant backdrops that makes People Like Us not just a book, but a reading experience.
I can wholeheartedly say this book will likely make my favorites list for 2025. It’s meaningful, clever, and filled with life’s complexities that many can relate to, whether you’re a fan of literary fiction or just in need of a story that shakes your thinking. I cannot recommend People Like Us enough to anyone looking for a read that digs deep but knows when to lighten the mood. Mott’s storytelling isn’t just an escape—it’s an exploration, and for that, I am grateful. Whether you’re transitioning out of your summer reads or seeking something that lingers long after you’ve turned the last page, this book might just be the perfect companion.
