The Instructions

It took me a couple of hundred pages to get into this book, and for a couple of hundred after that, I thought I would like it. Then I felt like I was just wasting time and wound up skimming the last several hundred. My problem with this book is that I couldn't find very much in it that was real. I don't mean that I found the plot unrealistic--of course it is--but even in the craziest fantasy, there has to be something that seems true. Here, Gurion's relationship with his parents seems true, and I liked those parts. And I do think that if a child like Gurion existed, his writings would be long and rambly and crazy like this book, so in a sense, the author did a good job in creating that character. But no one would want to read the crazy writings of a ten-year-old who thinks he might be the messiah, and that's where the problem comes in. There are just pages and pages and pages of internal monologues and weird conversations between the kids, none of which advance the plot or develop the characters. And the kids' characters and relationships are not well developed--most of them seem flat, and the motivations for their actions are either un clear or cliched. I felt that the author was too invested in his own cleverness and needed to listen to a good editor who could have told him to take a good idea and some good bits and rework it to cut out all the nonsense in between.

I finished this awhile ago but I couldn't wrap my head around the ending and before I knew it was on a trip to Portland and just wasn't thinking of it.

Ok, so basically this chronicles a very short time in the life of a young Jewish teenager in a Chicago suburb who thinks he might be (and wishes to be) the Messiah. A matter of days turns into over 1000 pages so you can imagine the depth of his philosophies. He's incredibly intellectual, is really obsessed with Philip Roth, and is held as a Rabbi by all of his school mates at various schools, private Jewish and public schools for his intellectual prowess and his advanced insightful take on many stories in the Torah.

In alot of ways, his advanced thinking is completely unbelievable but rather intoxicating nonetheless. His level of analysis is something to behold and wrap your head around over and over again.

The unfortunate thing is that he's witnessed some acts of violence against his people (he wouldn't call them fellow Jews, though, they are to him Israelites which are elevated from mere people of the Jewish faith) In any case, these acts of violence have scarred him a bit, causing him to issue a violent ulpan about creating homeade weapons to all of his Israelite disciples. His violent nature, however misunderstood, has caused him to be placed in a higher security school prison for delinquents and those with cognitive impairments called THE CAGE. Of course, that sort of treatment isn't going to work at all for someone like him and rebellion can be very ugly indeed.

Gurion also struggles with the sense of love for his father who seems to turn his back on his people to fight for the rights of Non-Israelite freedom of speech, which causes discord in the community and within his family unit.

Oh yeah, and Gurion (this intellectual protagonist) is in love with a non -Israelite girl but Adonai wouldn't let him fall in love with a non Israelite of course so he can just convert her.

So, I'm going to talk a little bit about the ending here. If you'd like to read it for yourself, please skip the rest. You have been warned. No whining!



I have tried to wrap my head around this ending which is extremely violent. I work in Chicago Public Schools so this kind of scene is a bit traumatic for me in that way. It's fantastical, over the top, and literally caused me one of the most vivid nightmares of my life. Besides extreme violence, there's a miracle of sorts and alot of presuppositions which lead you to wonder which is really the truth and almost set up different choose your own adventure scenarios about what may have actually happened. There's also a sense of betrayal and keenness of revenge from non Israelite students..anyone who feels they have been wronged as in a violent sort of atonement.


This is my take on it, finally, after pondering it. You may choose not to agree with me and I don't know at all if this was what Levin was aiming for. But this is the only thing that makes sense to me. In some ways, I see Gurion and the ending as a sort of microcasm of what is happening between Israel and Palestine. In other words, violence has begotten violence and it has all turned a little ugly with no mensches in sight. What we have is something alarming and chaotic, completely indecipherable. Gurion feels that he and those he loves are being persecuted and that, as a chosen person, this is wrong. His mother also feels strongly this way. The conflict with his father probably only adds to the keen sense of his own inner persecution. Gurion feels he is in the fight of his life. He stops being rational, only seeing the wrongs and dividing those into the Israelites and non Israelites. Even within these categories, complexities exist such as his friend with a cognitive disability who in the middle of the utter violent turmoil ends up shouting the lyrics to Radiohead's "You and Whose Army?" It's a strange kind of apocalypse..the kind that happens more than the real one because life still continues whether it's been changed or, to use a more appropriate word for the novel, damaged.

There's some bits about property damage all throughout the book but the major theme of damage evolves as a concept into human damage, even world damage. I'm not sure the moral of the story needs to be anything but the very fact that any act of violence can lead to a much larger progression of events or can damage the human spirit. I think this in and of itself is a profound message. However, I'm still not ready to make complete sense of the ending the way it's written either. It's message becomes emotionalized and unclear within itself and perhaps that was the point. On the other hand, it still sticks out like a major flaw and makes the reader feel in a state of shock.

Over the years I've learned that I have a great fondness for postmodernist leanings in literature. I've also learned that this fondness only goes so far. Stories which implement postmodernist techniques favor strongly with me; however, experiments of wordplay where the story, if there ever was one, gets lost grate on my nerves. Before I even opened the book I was expecting such a grating reaction with The Instructions. And when I started that first chapter, I knew this novel was going to be a huge test of my patience. One thousand and thirty pages of wordplay and witticisms. But, I'll admit, from the beginning it was more tolerable than your average Postmodernist novel. I didn't love it, but I knew I'd be able to make it through. But I really liked the story. And it only got better. And before long I came to appreciate these implausible ten-year old kids and their ridiculous speech. The story was far-fetched, but in an intriguing and fun way. Then, in those final three hundred pages, I didn't want to put it down.

I don't believe that The Instructions is for everyone. I know people who would hate it and why waste my time trying to convince them? But I also know there are people like myself who probably wouldn't give it a try if it weren't for those insisting they read it (people like Joseph Michael Owens). Had it not been for such insistence, I doubt I ever would've really given this tome more than a passing glance. But for all the heavy-laden postmodern books I've read, this has got to be my favorite. And what's interesting is that while it feels long, it doesn't feel that long. In fact, compared to a book such as The Crying of Lot 49, a novel 1/5 the size, The Instructions felt short.

So that's what I think of the book, but aside from my personal feelings I have to say this is quite an impressive work. Developing such an extensive novel while maintaining such a myriad of characters, layers, and richness of words is a feat to be marveled. It is the kind of work that I myself as a writer cannot understand how it was put together by another human. Adam Levin must either be a highly-functioning man with ADHD, a massive coffee and/or other stimulant user, or a robot gone haywire. Damn, some days I wish I was a robot.

Oh gosh, I'm going to be thinking about this one for a while...

I really enjoyed parts of this book, and trucked through it really fast, so didn't get bogged down in the slow parts. Lots of the reviews I read, even if they didn't like it, had a lot to say about it.I haven't read much dealing with Jewish religious views, so some of the speeches dealt with stuff that was somewhat new to me. Interesting talk about the meaning of some biblical stories. The last act could have gone somewhere else I guess. Left a bit wanting, which is too bad.High points for initial enjoyment, but the more I mull on it, the more the book dwindles. I don't think there's anyone I'd lend this too, so in the long run I guess it doesn't amount to enough.

OK, how to begin?It's always hard to review or recommend a book as huge, as packed with ideas and philosophical profundity as "The Instructions", but I'll say that if you're patient and willing to immerse yourself in the internal world spun by the highly imaginative and ambitious Levin, you will be rewarded.10-year old Gurion Maccabee is your hero/narrator and possible messiah. He believes he is. Deeply religious, dedicated to Judaism and defending it against its perceived enemies, a genius-level intellect and bad-ass warrior who is trained by his mother (who learned her martial skills in the Israeli military), Gurion wages a literal war against the teachers and some of the students who make life hell for the misfits he allies himself with at a Chicago public grade school. The violence that ensues seems plausible despite the fact that we're reading about 10, 11, and 12-year olds (with some older kids mixed in), but beyond the fighting is a book deeply immersed in theology, philosophy, humor (mostly dark), homage to such irreverent pranksters as the Marx Brothers and a practical kneeling-at-the-altar appreciation of writer Philip Roth (who also makes a fairly hilarious "cameo" in the story.)This is a book that accurately rips to pieces the oppressive rules and regulations that turn most schools into de facto prisons (in fact Gurion and the other students deemed troublemakers are kept in a literal caged area away from the rest of the student population), and despite his propensity to violence you will likely find yourself rooting for Gurion to prevail in his quest to lead his friends to victory, and also to win the hand of the girl he's fallen madly in love with, even though she's not Jewish.Yes, there are passages of dense and difficult prose to slog through to pluck out the more satisfying gems within. And suspension of disbelief to some extent at the manner in which these grade-school kids speak and the level of violence they perpetrate will be necessary, but ultimately this is a novel that will stick in your mind far after you've turned the last page. The ending is maddeningly evasive, but I suspect that was very much intentional on Levin's part. It did bother me, however, mostly because I had invested so much time getting to that conclusion, i suppose I felt I "deserved" a more definitive wrapping up.This is a book I would also love to discuss with others. There is especially a moment near the end of the tale, when Gurion has his minions locked inside the school in a standoff with police on the outside, and a very quick scene takes place with his mother asked to bring him to his senses by authorities that I THINK may hold a key to why Gurion acts as he does, but it is only a suspicion I can't really be sure of without speaking to someone else who's read the book.By all means contact me if you know what I'm talking about! In the meantime, if you enjoy books by Pynchon or was a fan of "Infinite Jest', you're sure to appreciate "The Instructions."

Worth the first 500 pages to get to the last 1100. I found myself skimming certain sections but glad I plowed through the book.

This book takes a bit of endurance: there's a childhood slang that (like reading Twain) takes a bit of getting used to, not to mention the overall length. BUT the plot is magnificent and wrenching--not to mention compelling--and Levin brings together an incredible range of influences, while managing to write a fresh and very original story. Absolutely worth the effort.

I’m a little overwhelmed. After finishing this, I just can’t see it as clearly as while I was in the middle of reading it. Because after finishing it, all I can focus on is the ending, but the book is so much more than that. Yes it is a unified work and it is saying big things, but I love the small things he does as much as the big things. The book is as much about these small things = slapslap, chinning, Harpo Progression, hyperscoot, I’m-Ticking, ‘Tch’ = there is an obsession with, or an understanding of, gestural communication but also signficance of gestural motions outside of the goal of communication alone. There’s also a particular vocabulary = trickle, snat, emotionalize, Slokum Dies Friday, darkers, the robots, Desormiate, chomsky, pennygun, Arrangement, damage, Ulpan = a grandiose kind of language-making in which everything is internalized, nicknamed, externalized, passed-on, becomes myth-like. People’s names too = Main Man, Janitor, Asparagus, Brooklyn, Call-Me-Sandy. The book creates an internal logic, an environment where everything in it makes its own particular sense, and is driven by a most unique voice, a voice that gets in your head and even made me dream things in that same voice, a voice of one who is constantly thinking and re-thinking, obsessed with logic in the big things (including scriptural and moral ideas, example = lying to God, and how God is complicit in your lying, etc.) as well as the smallest of small, seemingly irrelevant things (= why simple slapslap was inferior to normal slapslap... ) logic which becomes illogical because it has so much faith in its own logic, that logic is possible, that the world can be logic-ed out. Those are the little things. And I loved those little things, the particular world of the book that was so real (Levin GETS it = this is just like childhood, in a certain way) and often funny, alive, entertaining, engaging, and intellectual. The humor is very odd, sometimes I don’t even know why it is funny as in this passage that totally cracked me up:"Maybe take away the Shovers’ semi-private-club status? But then they’d meet at recess, wholly private, with impunity. Ban scarves in the classroom? What about cold kids?" - p241The book is as much about these little things as the big themes that will get over-focused on. The character’s, too, were so real, though they all spoke Gurion-speak: even the ones not like him at all have a particular him-ness (maybe because he’s narrating). At the same time, the characters are easily distinguishable, and have very strong distinct personalities of their own. Interesting paradox."I liked eggs soft-boiled, but in the morning couldn’t prep them, not if I wanted to put them in my stomach. Those insect-like screams emitted by the shell when you pried its fragments from that film they clung to--the mastication of wet chicken sounded musical by comparison." p.773What of the big things? What is the book saying? I have no idea. Something about terrorism? Something about God/belief? Was it about verbosity/iniquity? About verbose boys who are too smart for their own good? About the institutional aspect of education? Modern technology? The modern world’s tolerance for divergent thought, or true uniqueness? I don’t know but I know by the end I knew it was about something but maybe also about multiple things or maybe about something in a way that it wasn’t totally about it, otherwise it would be a shallow one-dimensional work anyway. By the end, I wasn’t even sure what was happening sometimes. The last hundred pages totally devastated me, and I shall put a SPOILER warning here (though if you pay attention to the very beginning, none of this will really be a surprise, but who will remember the beginning after 1000+ pages? The shocking-ness of the ending is that everything was built up so carefully and logically that it doesn’t seem like violence (though talked about and even performed in small doses, but TRUE violence, TRUE irrevocable violence of the death-sort seemed beyond the scope of possible outcomes, however much foreshadowed, until it comes) seemed unimaginable at least to me, as I was able to imagine the rest of the story so fully: not unimaginable as in unbelievable, but believable, totally believable, yet completely shocking and really really fucken sad. The Gurionic War passage, the 100+ pages or so of it near the end anyway, was such a dizzying array of action, and of action that made me want to turn away from it, because I had so invested in these characters and I could see now the inevitable damage and I did not want to see it happen I did not want to know that it was going to happen even though I knew and I knew that I knew. What use was it? Then, also, the book is so detail oriented that I feel like I can dissect every bit of it for meaning, almost, yes, like scripture. What is the meaning of Gurion’s own words never having “quote” marks around it... except near the end when he speaks to the soldiers = “There is damage,” I said to the thousand soldiers. What does that mean, or was that just a slip up where he forgot to not quote? I refuse to believe that this would escape him. What does it mean that the whole book is written by future-Gurion, who remembers these events... So the book leaves you hanging at the end, not knowing what version of Gurion comes out of this experience, we only know past-Gurion and past-Gurion as described (or mis-represented?) in the head of future-Gurion, but we know also (or more accurately, we can imply also) that future-Gurion is relatively unchanged, still belief-heavy in that he finished this huge book, in that he believed in it that much and did not allow the tragedy of the events to cause in him doubt, depression, etc. (like it would have if I were Gurion but then again I would not be Gurion nor would I ever want to be), or if he did allow that (he did mention something about suicide in the very ambiguous Coda), that he was somehow able to overcome it. But how was he able to overcome it, what were his thoughts on all these events? What was the meaning of the miracle? Does it vindicate anything? What about in “Commentary on Commentaries” chapter where he hints at things about Main Man being somehow more involved than he ended up being at the end:"So even though, on reflection, Main Man’s weird utterances seem to have been obliquely prophetic--and maybe they were--there was no good reason to believe they were prophetic at the time."And what to say now? How to end this review? It would be unfair to not mention the book’s flaws. The ‘damage’ at the end, though obligatory, became dull to read after a while. I can only take so much straight action and so much of this book was an alternation between action and thought whereas the last 200 pages or so were almost entirely action in a way that seemed... a bit meaningless. What does it matter what happened, as much as it matters that it happened and that we know something happened, and are able to reflect on the end result of what happened. The specifics seem superfluous = who was standing where, doing what to whom etc. This is a gripe on my part, even though I know it is probably necessary to have that action described in detail, to keep consistency with the character of Gurion feeling overly important about these events. Also, little things with characters, like how Eliyahu seemed to suddenly change personalities, becoming more susceptible to violence, even inviting it, perhaps I missed what brought this on. Also, the ending which affected me deeply, but I’m not sure what to think about it at all, and feel a vague sense of disappointment at the same time. Also, the voice which is captivating in its endless logical digressions became slightly tiresome at around page 635. There are probably more, but really it does not matter. The book has flaws but the book is a triumph also. It is a dizzying experience and I don’t know what to think about it, and that makes me want to think about it all the more.

Here's a very clever, imaginative novel about a very clever, imaginative kid who thinks he may be the Messiah, written by a brilliant guy desperately in need of an editor or two. I made it through 850 pages, laughing a lot, but had to let go of the next two hundred. I hope someone takes it on and compresses it. It will be a best-seller!

I'm feeling the same way as hairball, below. I'm at about p 800. At first I thought the book would be pure, undiluted genius, and now I'm feeling more like it ebbs and flows but is never less than brilliant.

Perhaps it is winter, but I've found myself brooding on the roulette of contemporary literature: for every Zone or Wolf Hall, well, there's always Franzen's Freedom. A honest albeit flawed effort like The Imperfectionists can convey you only so far. I noted elsewhere that this is the season of Balzac for me personally. Thus qualified, I am so glad I picked up this book today at the library.

Having finished the novel ten minutes ago. There is a hazard in any ranking system; and yet, despite some puzzling distractions in the last 100 pages including a submersion into brutality, I have to regard the tome as nothing short of amazing. I like to lose myself in messianism. It appears so much simpler to possess such clarity.

I own this physical book, and it's a legitimate tome. It's a wonderful, crazy story that makes you feel simultaneously empowered, enraged, and helpless. I'm not one for the topic of religion but this really opened my eyes to a whole new genre.