This was the first book I have read from Mohsin Hamid I liked what the author was trying to do with this one, I cant work out if he pulled it off or not. The premise of the story is good and it is very thought provoking, And I am thinking about it weeks after finishing it.
The writing style was somewhat confusing, some of it was poetic almost to the point of being lyrical, in the next breath you would have a long mundane almost boring paragraph, I found myself getting distracted when reading it.
This book challenges our way of thinking about race but also of our acceptance of different races and cultures The more people that change to a darker shade of skin around the more people accept that change. There is initially confusion, fear and hatred followed by adjustment and then acceptance for most but not all.
I didn't enjoy it as much as I expected to but the writer has intrigued me and I will definitely pick up another book by Mohsin Hamid.
Thankyou to NetGalley and the Author for giving me access to an ARC in return for an honest review.

Anders, a white man, wakes up one morning to find his skin has turned dark. Slowly, and then all at once, the same takes place across the unnamed town he lives in, upending civil society as Anders knows it. Oona, Anders' on-again, off-again girlfriend, struggles to find a place in this new world, still trying to cope with the death of her brother and father. This novel is a mere 200 pages but it has a lot going on, and sadly, that resulted in a flat, scattered narrative that I struggled to connect with.

Let's start with what I liked: Hamid's prose style is vivid, and there are flashes of brilliance in this novel, no doubt. The concept is so intriguing, and rather than digging into the "why" of people's skin colour changing, the author instead looks at the impact it has on people's communities. I found this fascinating, and it's a more nuanced way to look at things than one would expect.

Overall, though, The Last White Man committed the gravest of sins - it was boring. Yes, as the novel progresses, the characters' situations become more fraught. Violence erupts; people are forced into their homes in a COVID-19 inspired manner. But Hamid presents all of this in a curiously detached manner; I found it really hard to care about the two central characters, and their struggles with their new race.

I appreciate what the author was trying to do with this one, but it was a miss for me, save for some glorious spots of prose.

“Even though so many others were armed, he just had this sense that it was essential not to be seen as a threat, for to be seen as a threat, as dark as he was, was to risk one day being obliterated.”

I’m a new reader of Mohsin Hamid, and I am so so grateful that I picked this one up to read because Hamid has just gained a new loyal reader. The writing style was phenomenal. Really, truly. I don’t say that lightly. It may also not be everyone’s cup of tea, as some sentences run on for whole pages. But I personally found this to be exquisite and really drew me in to the anxiety and suffocating nature of the text and it’s topic.

This book was utterly genius. There is no other way that I can express myself about it. I started the book and immediately put it down because I’d picked it up tired, and I knew within a few paragraphs it deserved proper reading and required reflection throughout. I live for books like this. I love the reading experience of a book that makes you think and this book certainly does this.

Our main character, Anders, wakes up to find that his skin as turned from white to black. He rushes to the nearest mirror and sees for himself, that his skin had literally changed colour. He is no longer a white man. And he is not the only person who is experiencing this change. Societal chaos ensues and Anders has to go into hiding. Hamid calls into question of identity, of loss and of perception of self and perception that others have of your race. The heavy burden of colour.

As a mixed race person, who is white passing, I found this concept absolutely fascinating. I could not stop reading this book. Hamid does a fantastic job at highlighting as much as he can of the struggles that one could come up against, both internally and externally navigating the world, with this new found reality.

Hamid makes the reader question their own internal dilemmas when it comes to racism and what this means in the wider context of the world. This book taught me a valuable lesson, of an awareness of unconscious biased that is ingrained in the fabric of society, I felt challenged by this, in a good way. I was honestly floored by the complexity in which Hamid is able to write, considering how small a novel this book really is.

Incredibly superb, delivering revelation after revelation. This book is a must read.

Thank you to @Netgalley and Riverhead Books for gifting me an early copy in exchange for an honest review.

I find it astonishing that some reviewers have called this a racist book – they seem to have missed the point altogether. The book is a nuanced, insightful and timely exploration of racism in all its multiplicity, and a powerful indictment of it. One morning white man Anders wakes up to discover that he has turned “dark” overnight. We never discover how this transformation has come about but it soon becomes clear that Anders isn’t the only one. This metamorphosis is gradually spreading throughout the United States as more and more people change colour. What Anders has to do now is explore what this change means to him and to those around him, the impact it has on his own life and his relationships with those close to him, and how the loss of his “whiteness” changes how he feels about himself and the world around him. Thought-provoking indeed. Mohsin Hamid tells us that he wrote the book in response to his own experiences after 9/11. Up to then he had felt that he was “white enough” to enjoy the benefits of whiteness as an educated cosmopolitan man. Then it seemed that his “whiteness” had in part been revoked. Now he was seen as a brown man with a Muslim name, and therefore in some way suspect. His thoughtful take on the experience of changing colour raises many questions about prejudice and challenges why racism is still so prevalent in our society today. How others react to us can change how we think about ourselves. There’s a love story here as well, tenderness about family and relationships, and for such a short book it packs a powerful emotional punch, and I very much enjoyed it.

Anders, a white man, wakes up one day to find he is black.

A simple thought experiment for a book that then probes far more complicated conversations and themes, from what the responses might be to this (we see white nationalists taking to the streets, but also others just quietly accept it, and some start to draw lines about who was 'originally' black, and who wasn't), to how much (or little) others respond to it at all.

And that for me was part of the brilliance of this book- to be able to poke at several different arguments all at once, all in so few pages, and always with an assured and confident voice.

This book reads incredibly quickly, but is no less astute for it.

I received an advanced copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC.

Mohsin Hamid's updated take on Kafka's The Metamorphosis forces you to think about the divides in today's society, particularly those of race. It's an interesting take that asks a lot of questions without providing too many answers, but the relationships in the novel feel realistic, especially that of Anders and Oona. While I admire the sentiment behind the book, it's not an easy read so you need to be preapred for that.

Love the concept of this and felt it delivered. A thought provoking and poignant story that tackles the tricky issues of race and tolerance.

he premise of Mohsin Hamid’s latest novel The Last White Man is fascinating: a white man, Anders, wakes up one morning to find that his skin has turned a deep brown. The language is reminiscent of the opening lines of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and it sets the stage for an interesting exploration of racial identity.

The book centres around Anders and his girlfriend Oona’s attempts to deal with this sudden change, while also coping with ageing and somewhat racist parents. At first, it seems to be just Anders who has changed, but soon it becomes clear that this is happening to other people too. White people all over the town, all over the country (both unnamed) are turning brown.

Oona’s mother believes the whole thing is part of “a plot that had been building for years, for decades, maybe for centuries, the plot against their kind.” And others seem to agree because they form a kind of militia that attacks, threatens or even kills people like Anders who have turned brown. The mood becomes ugly, riots and violence are everywhere, Oona and Anders become afraid to go out.

Then, of course, Oona herself changes, and Oona’s mother, and all the angry people trying to defend whiteness. One by one, everyone changes, and in the end, there are no white people left at all.

It’s a clever idea for a novel—it seems like an exploration of what would happen if the paranoid and misguided white nationalist Great Replacement Theory actually came true, at breakneck speed. The ugly fear and paranoia also reminded me of the “war on woke”—the terror that some people seem to feel when some white people, although not literally turning brown, begin to question the system of white supremacism.

There are a couple of problems, however, that prevented the book from reaching its full potential. The first is the language, which is formed of long, winding sentences held together with commas. For example:

“He sat down on the sofa and after a moment’s hesitation she went and sat next to him, and they spoke, and she could tell he was desperate for reassurance, but she was reluctant to provide it, resistant to being drawn into that role, yet again, not again, and resistant also to lying to him, because she did not know what good it would do, so she told him what she thought, flat-out, that he looked like another person, not just another person, but a different kind of person, utterly different, and that anyone who saw him would think the same, and it was hard, but there it was.”

There’s a drifting, stream-of-thought quality to it that works quite well at first, but I found it quite repetitive over the course of a whole novel. It also seemed to have a strange kind of distancing effect.

The second, larger problem is that both Anders and Oona are muted, passive characters. The metamorphosis that opens the book is so profound that you expect a dramatic reaction from Anders, but it never arrives. He does experience a brief desire while looking in the mirror to “kill the colored man who confronted him here in his home”, but then he just kind of shrugs and accepts what’s happened. He eats a sandwich, calls in sick to work, shops for groceries, smokes some pot.

As for Oona, when Anders first tells her on the phone, her initial reaction is to feel that “she was cashed out, emotion-wise” and to try to get away from him and focus on herself. But she does go to see him for reasons she can’t name, and when she does, their conversation amounts to this:

“So you see? he said.

“Damn,” she replied.

Then they smoke a joint and have sex.

Throughout the book, as society falls apart around them, they still seem to be drifting around in a kind of pot-fuelled haze, reacting belatedly and cautiously to what’s happening, hiding out and stocking up on groceries and waiting for things to blow over.

The supporting cast is not much better. Even Oona’s racist mother, who believes in a huge anti-white conspiracy, doesn’t actually do anything when she finds out her daughter’s boyfriend is one of those who is no longer white. She worries and moans, and finally accepts it. Anders’s father, too, seems like the kind of guy who would reject a non-white son, but he too just kind of grumbles and moans and then accepts it. There’s a lot of violence and drama in the wider world, but none of it really affects the main characters. Even when a white mob turns up at Anders’s home, they just issue a threat and go away again.

Perhaps this is Hamid’s point: that despite all the importance we attach to the entirely invented category of race, it’s really not that big a deal. Maybe he’s showing how misguided the “Great Replacement” scaremongers are: even if the white race disappeared in a few weeks, it really wouldn’t be that big a deal. Here’s how Oona’s paranoid mother develops towards the end of the book, for example:

“Oona’s mother had expected a reckoning and when that reckoning did not come, when those who had been white were not hunted down and caged or whipped or killed … she began to relax, and she found that she did not detest being out among people, no different from the others, not visibly different, not obviously identified as being of one tribe or another, and that it was a kind of reprieve…”

As a political analogy, I get it, but as a story, The Last White Man felt a little dissatisfying. Hamid does such a good job of setting up a brilliant premise and building up an atmosphere of threat and danger in a new and unstable world, and it would have been great to be in the company of characters who interacted with that world in more interesting ways.

This was a well written and thought provoking story however it just didn't grip me and although I did finish it I found it a bit of a struggle to get through. The subject matter may resonate more with others and consequently they may have more enjoyment.

It's not my usual type of read so I went into it knowing that it may not be my thing. I would be interested to see any future offerings from the author.

I'd probably go 2.5 from 5 but have rounded up.

Thanks to the publisher, author and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for this impartial review.

A new Metamorphosis - strange structure/narrative but relevant.

This started very much like Gregor Samsa's classic story, in my head at least. Which is not a just comparison. Gregor awakens to find himself turned into an insect. A creature un-humanlike in its appearance, one that would be shunned and vilified, feared and punished. Anders awakens to find his white skin has turned to brown.

And there's the heart of it really. Because that's very similar to how Anders feels about himself, and how he feels others are now going to see him. Because of his skin colour.

It's a troublesome book to put your finger on. This is Anders' story yes, but it's not told from his point of view. The author gives us his character's thoughts, but it's wider than this - his sometime lover Oona, her bigoted (in a very contemporary right-wing way) mother, their perceptions about this growing phenomenon are key to how the reader sees Anders' new world.

For it's spreading. And shockingly, so is violence and lawlessness. Anders is no longer recognised by those he knows. How will his dying father feel when presented with this 'new' son?

Is this an allegory? Does it expose (not always) hidden prejudices and resentments? The cause of this change is not explored, though there is one mention of a cure being touted, it doesn't veer towards religion or politics, it is more the societal effect and that on a personal level of how people deal with other people when confronted with this sudden transformation.

Should it make a difference? It is interesting to watch how Anders and Oona's burgeoning relationship alters through the story, in front of society's background of hate, fear and suspicion.

It's a disturbing read, as every reader will project themselves into these characters and this situation and wonder how it would be were this real. How would 'our' society react? Our families? Our selves? And what point is the writer trying to make... hard for me to put an exact mark on it, but it's a book I won't be forgetting.

With thanks to Netgalley for providing an advance reading copy.

A powerful exploration of love, loss and fear set against a backdrop of racial discrimination, this latest novel from internationally bestselling author Mohsin Hamid is succinct and thought provoking.

Consisting of only 180 pages, The Last White Man is a compelling, modern day fable. One morning Anders, a white man, wakes up to find that his skin has turned a deep brown. He does not recognise his reflection as it stares back at him. Initially for days Anders hides away from society, messaging his work at a gym to say he is sick. He eventually reaches out to Oona, an old friend from school and now a ‘friend with benefits.’

The emotional turmoil Anders experiences following his transformation is written in a omniscient, almost casual style, enhancing the poignancy of his feelings. It also succinctly reveals his own bias and the bias of the society he is living in:

Anders put off telling his father, why he was not sure, maybe because his father had always seemed a little disappointed in him, and this would add to his disappointment

Knowing he cannot hide away forever, and with reports of more individuals across the land turning from white to dark skinned beginning to surface, Anders reluctantly starts to reveal his new self to the people around him. The reaction of his boss and how Anders cowers to his boss, I found particularly unnerving:

To his boss, Anders explained his situation, which was not unique, nor contagious, as far as anyone knew, and returned to the gym after a week off, and his boss was waiting for him at the entrance, bigger than Anders remembered him, though obviously the same size, and his boss looked him over and said, “I would have killed myself.”

Like Mohsin Hamid’s Booker Prize nominated novel Exit West, The Last White Man is also a simple and compelling love story full of magical realism. I feel that Hamid’s use of magical realism is very deliberate as through his narrative he reminds us that reality is something that we have to be constantly questioning.

For me The Last White Man was full of meaning and it really gripped me. In my view it a very important novel as it forces us to confront our fears and our bias head on, regardless of that bias being conscious or unconscious. Yes, this novel is an exploration of prejudice and race, yet another reason why I feel The Last White Man is such a powerful and important narrative is that the fear, bias and prejudice portrayed can also be associated to the fear, bias and prejudice individuals and society have regarding other protected characteristics, such as disability.

However I do have to say the ending was a bit lost on me. When I reached the end of the book I thought “oh is that it?” But I do wonder if that is more to do with me and maybe I just missed something. Hence I intend to go back and reread The Last White Man. Full of meaning, it is definitely a book that needs read and reread.

Really interesting short story, such a thought provoking topic as it really made me consider how I’d behave in the scenarios the characters found themselves in. Would recommend a read and will definitely be reading more of Mohsin’s work as his writing style is wonderful

I really struggled with this and unfortunately it was a DNF at 40%. I just couldn’t connect with the writing style and found my mind drifting while reading.

"The experts weighed in, and the sum of it all was clear, in other words that a white man had indeed shot a dark man, but also that the dark man and the white man were the same."

Hamid is a highly talented writer who had a great idea to touch on how visible race results in entirely different lived experiences, through first hand experiences shifting between two races.

The book felt forced though, aiming for a little too much shock factor and a little less deep digging into why individuals felt the way they felt. The random addition of survivalism felt almost too mismatched - like two pieces of a puzzle that have been forced to fit, instead of a natural glide in place.

I love the premise and would really enjoy seeing it redone with a bit more depth and spanning significantly more pages.

Thank you to NetGalley for the arc.

When Anders wakes to find that his skin has turned dark and his features altered, it is not only him that has to adjust and accept the change, but also his lover Oona, his father and colleagues. We learn that there are transformations taking place across the country.
Some see this as a threat and resort to violence (white suprematists and their conspiracy theories comes to mind).
A thought provoking, poignant novel that raises issues of race and tolerance.

This a novel about race, loss it’s about so many things that intersect, the lack of or rather losing their ‘whiteness’ and privilege to the realisation of how people of colour are treated, not just the news worthy but the day by day treatment draining and soul destroying pain that we (as a white person I say this) inflict. The i premise of white people changing colour overnight is a very unique way of looking at race and dissecting how it ingrains the whole world, every part of it, this is definitely a unique and powerful read, one I recommend for anyone who wants to be made to think , because I still am and will be for a long time to come

Thanks to netgalley and the publisher for a free copy for an honest opinion

The Last White Man is a compassionate, heartfelt look at family, both born and found, and how life changes can impact those family relationships.

To some extent, the premise of The Last White Man— that white people start turning into POC overnight— is secondary to the story of a couple who find themselves in the midst of a crisis and build a life together anyway. It involves forgiving parents for their mistakes, dealing with pain at the loss of parental relationships, and questions exactly what it would take for someone to overcome racism.

The pacing of this story works really well and it has moments of really lovely insight about what might change if a white person stopped being white. I especially loved Anders’ reflection on the janitor at the gym. I wish there had been slightly more focus on this transformation and how it would impact a society that is built around whiteness and racial privilege in such a substantial way.

That said, if you are looking for a love story that is gentle and reflective, The Last White Man does an excellent job of that.

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Anders wakes up one morning in an unknown country and finds his white skin has turned dark brown. He panics, wants his mum (but she died after a problem with the local water supply, when a number of people developed cancer and died) and phones his old friend and sometime lover, Oona. He lives in a one-room apartment (for the time being) and hides away from his job at the gym and the people around, eventually having to venture out for groceries but wearing a hoody and gloves. When he does return to work, he finds other dark-skinned people looking him in the eye – but why – and his boss opining that he would have not coped if it had been him. Soon we find that the people are changing, one by one, and divisions that open up with (off-stage) violence and discord, where you think that people will find cohesion but instead are divided, start to be untenable as the balance shifts. Meanwhile, Oona experiments with the idea of changing and her mum is sucked into online groups and fake news sites that explain how this is the End of Days – but is it?

We live inside Anders’, Oona’s and Oona’s mum’s heads with no commentary in the narrative or in the events to indicate how we are supposed to read them, who is perhaps right and who is perhaps wrong. We can understand where each is coming from, and although we might cringe when Anders decides to finally talk to the (always dark-skinned) cleaner at the gym and engage him, rather than just seeing him like a puppy to pat on the head, and finds he’s not quite having the conversation we expected, who hasn’t navigated racial sociopolitics awkwardly?

For me in particular, there’s a very powerful passage when Oona is unable to recognise former friends and acquaintances (their skin texture and hair appear to change as well as their colour, from little hints in the book) which would stand as a good description of prosopagnosia (link leads to a post on my other blog), or face-blindness, which I have myself:

Is this a novel about Covid or race? Both, I think – there’s that fear of “getting” it then the almost relief when you do, the balance shifting to everyone having had it, the looting and hoarding, but then it’s also about the sense of loss of one’s whiteness, of the certainties, of realising how people of colour have been treated. But it’s also hugely a novel about loss. Oona has lost her dad and then her brother, and Anders’ father is failing – we do see inside his head a little, too, in some very moving passages.

The style of the book is matter of fact, distanced, as I said, riots and violence happening off-stage but still palpably there. There’s a sense of fear and disconnection: I liked the style but some people have found it too cold. We’re not told what to think, but TO think – for example, like when reading about the Holocaust or other ethnic cleansing, you can’t help but think “Where would I go?” “Would I shield people?”. The plain style makes it easy to read but not easy to skim; you can’t stop reading but you also don’t stop thinking. It’s so powerful, but then there is also a powerful sense of community, healing and hope buried in the horror.

A story about race and skin colour and what happens when the identity that our skin provides changes. I finished this book in one sitting and am still thinking about it several days later. The writing is incredibly beautiful with each paragraph a poetic flow-on sentence. I would read again and highly recommend.

I am finding it hard to review this book as I am still undecided about it. At times it seems implausible and a bit mundane but then something excites you. It won't appeal to everyone but worth a go.