Elif Batuman’s new campus novel feels like a guidebook to being “inside a body newly being touched, and touching.”

The fiction of Batuman’s fiction is that novels are dangerous because people like Selin read them as a guide to the future. But as Batuman (and her novel) know full well, fictions offer a way for both writers and readers to understand their pasts, not their futures.

↩︎ The London Review of Books

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