From Publishers Weekly
A twisted, introverted young man plots to blow up a public library in Chicago in this muddled but intriguing debut, which presents an odd array of specious, creative evidence to link the alleged terrorism of ideas to its physical counterpart. David Edgar Felsenstein is the imaginative but disturbed first-person narrator who lays out his plan and ambitions as a series of diary entries in which he freely quotes from books and subjects that draw his interest, including the story of Guy Fawkes, Buddhist writings, the novels of Thomas Pynchon and an array of popular science and cosmological titles. Felsenstein uses brief quotes and snippets from each source to prove his addled conclusions and bolster his bizarre point of view, and as his thought process becomes increasingly unhinged, he edges closer to blowing up the library to justify his weird perspective. His one relief from the world of ideas is the series of brief interactions he has with a librarian, Eve Jablom, although Felsenstein is far too shy to make a genuine attempt to ask her out. Swartz is a decent writer with a solid grasp of intellectual concepts; with a better-developed plot, this might have been an intriguing character study of an intelligent, idiosyncratic narrator who slips into psychosis. But without a strong narrative line the book degenerates into an erratic, unfocused series of snippets and truncated scenes. (Oct.)Forecast: This first novel won't appeal to everyone, but blurbs from Frederick Barthelme, Harry Mathews, Ron Rosenbaum and Andrei Codrescu should attract the kind of readers who will appreciate Swartz's approach.
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
David Felsenstein is an eccentric patron of Chicago's Harold Washington Public Library whose inner life consists of quotes from books. Written in the form of a diary with ample footnotes referencing everything from Shakespeare to experimental psychology, this work chronicles Felsenstein's unrequited love for Eve Jablom, who works at the circulation desk, and his progressive derangement culminating in an act of aesthetic terrorism that may sit uneasily with readers in the post-9/11 world. Nevertheless, Instant Karma is clever and well written; in a sense, Felsenstein reminds us of Dostoevsky's antihero in Notes from Underground, with spectacular violence being the metaphor here for the alienation of modern life. Recommended for medium to large collections with strong holdings in contemporary fiction.
Philip Santo, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.