But “The Flamethrowers” is a denser novel that moves around the world, from Brazil to Manhattan to Italy, sabotaging easy conclusions about who’s authentic and who’s a poser.
Fans will see her pursuing some of the same themes here, particularly the tension between workers and those who exploit them, and the murky values of self-righteous radicals. Her debut, “ Telex From Cuba” (a finalist for the 2008 National Book Award), spread out Batista’s island in the 1950s in all its garish colors. Kushner has been writing about contemporary art for years, and she’s quickly turning into a superb recent-historical novelist. Although she wasn’t even a teenager when SoHo became an urban happening, in these pages the wacky, ultimately tragic era comes into focus with vibrant fidelity.
On lines stretched tight between satire and eulogy, she strolls above the self-absorbed terrain of the New York art scene in the 1970s, providing a vision alternately intimate and elevated. Rachel Kushner’s new novel, “ The Flamethrowers,” is a high-wire performance worthy of Philippe Petit.
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