Cockroach: A Novel Paperback – October 25, 2010

His images pop with magic. He captures the experience of immigrants and refugees - raw, real transformations. The writer's ability to capture complexity and distill it into a potent story is inspiring.

Turning the last page of this book I felt like standing up, dusting myself off as best as possible, and heading for a long, hot, cleansing shower. The book was far more of a challenge than a pleasure. If Rawi Hage's down in the dirt novel, Cockroach, had been written poorly and/or was without merit, it would have been satisfying to use a blowtorch instead of a pen to write a review. Hage didn't give me that luxury: he knows how to write, and Cockroach is a work of both integrity and value.The protagonist, more anti-hero than hero, is a nameless (occasionally referred to as "kid") member of that part of the Montreal immigrant community that hangs on by its economic finger nails. Told in the first person, our guide takes us on a gritty, grimy, insect-ridden, violence-prone, sexual, crime-laden tour of roughly one frozen winter month in the life of the members of this community. Our protagonist remains so anonymous, so sub-surface, so invisible, as he moves through this environment that his existence approximates (and in his own mind becomes) that of a cockroach. Even his therapist (assigned to our anti-hero compulsorily after his suicide attempt) doesn't address him by name, and his musician friend Reza sums up our anti-hero/cockroach's worth in this way: "I give something in return" (Reza continued) "while you are nothing but a petty thief with no talent. All you can do is make the fridge light go on and off, and once the door is closed you're never sure if the light inside has turned to darkness, like your own dim soul". And if that's how your friends think about you....The reader will be tempted to react to our anti-hero's actions and viewpoints with disgust, condescension, and possibly anger. Be prepared for the fact that our protagonist's reaction to the comfortable, self-satisfied, shallow, hyper-precious life of the culturally pretentious is no less negative, and much more severe.And yet, as difficult a read as it was for me, I found much more in Hage's writing than a simple counter-cultural rant, more than a morbid examination of the squalid, more than simple self-loathing. Strands of integrity, wisps of human feeling, threads of the ability to experience and give love, weave a potent ending to the tale of Cockroach.Rawi Hage's book is an exploration of one part of Montreal's sociological crawl space. Crawl spaces are nasty. In my Central Oregon location, my rare descents into the crawl space beneath my house are unpleasant encounters with large spiders, the occasional scorpion, the skittering sound of sage rats running off, and scattered animal droppings. The dirt I crawl over as I dodge plumbing and floor beams is laced with volcanic rock that skins my knees even through my clothing. When I emerge, I'm covered with dirt, scratched up, and happy to be breathing clean air in the light of day. Emerging from the experience of reading Cockroach, I'm guessing that many readers will metaphorically feel the same way.What fuels the rage that surfaces so frequently in this book? One passage suggests that Rawi Hage's survival of nine years of the Lebanese civil war is a source: "At the first sip of beer, the first fries, I forget and forgive humanity for its stupidity, its foulness, its avarice and greed, envy, lust gluttony, sloth, wrath, and anger. I forgive it for its contaminated spit, its valued feces, its rivers of piss, its bombs, all its bad dancing. I also forget about the bonny infants with the African flies clustering on their noses, the marching drunk soldiers on the way to whorehouses. I forget about my mother and my father, the lightless nights I spent with my sister playing cards, dressing up toy soldiers, and undressing dolls by candlelight, reading comics."For a fascinating contrast to Hage's story, read Tracy Kidder's Strength in What Remains, the non-fiction account of a survivor of the Tutsi genocide who ends up scratching for survival in New York's own down and out immigrant community.This book is not for light consumption, and not for book clubs that like their books high in entertainment and low on literary crawl spaces. Literary spelunkers, and those who enjoy the heights of human existence the more for having visited the depths: forge ahead.

I found the story a bit difficult to follow and the ending very abruptI doubt I would read any other works from this author, the style of writing does not suit my taste

One of the best books ı have recently read. Thank you Rawi Hage. İt is a psychological journey of an immigrant which no doubt many similar lives must have experienced.

We needed this for our English course. Thank you.

Set in Montreal and narrated by an Arab immigrant, some readers might call "Cockroach" an allegory; one exposing the trials and lives of impoverished immigrants. In "Cockroach," the protagonist, like the hero of Kafka's "The Metamorphosis," takes on the form of an insect. In "Cockroach", however, the transformation is psychological rather than physical - the narrator envisions himself as the insect rather than actually becoming one. Further, no one other than the narrator sees him as an actual insect. However, the narrator might argue he is treated, by non-immigrants, in the same manner as other unwelcome vermin - reviled and avoided.Moving between reality and his imaginary life as a cockroach, the narrator provides the reader brief glimpses into the lives of individuals with whom he interacts. Like the narrator, most are immigrants who struggle against poverty and a world they do not control. All carry burdens of their former lives; all are impacted by their past. Under psychiatric treatment because of attempted suicide, it is only during his sessions that the reader is given details of the narrator's life prior to immigration.Rawi Hage uses vivid imagery to draw the reader into the immigrant's world, one of poverty and survival. The narrator lives in filth, like the cockroach; his apartment teams with real cockroaches, living in filth and surviving off the crumbs he scatters. The narrator also lives off crumbs; the crumbs he can scavenge from society whether these are his welfare payments or the ill-gotten gains of theft. It is during his most stressful moments that the narrator takes on the persona of the cockroach. His desperation is palpable. He continually compares himself and other immigrants to cockroaches, telling how, in the end, they will overrun the world and survive."Cockroach" is not an easy, light read; it is not fun or entertaining. "Cockroach" does require concentration and should be read with as few interruptions as possible. The novel has a definite psychological leaning; the writing is so vivid that it will propel the reader into its ugly world. Rawi Hage is a skilled wordsmith; as a result, the reader easily visualizes both individuals and their situations. The text contains some profanity and some graphic sexual scenarios and innuendo.Although I did not particularly enjoy this work, I felt it deserved four stars since it is a very well written book. Had I not read "The Metamorphosis" in college, I probably would have upped the rating to five stars since I would have also viewed this book, in which an individual "becomes" an insect, as a very original piece.