The flamethrowers

Rachel Kushner’s "The Flamethrowers" plunges the reader into the gritty, exhilarating New York art world of the mid-1970s, seen through the eyes of Reno, a young woman from Nevada whose primary ambition is to set a land speed record on a motorcycle. Her journey from the vast, empty landscapes of the American West to the claustrophobic, intellectually charged lofts of SoHo is rendered with striking precision, capturing both the mundane details and the seismic shifts in her understanding of herself and the world. Kushner’s prose is sharp and evocative, drawing us into Reno’s observations of the artists, filmmakers, and revolutionaries who populate her new life; the novel’s opening chapters, in particular, possess a kinetic energy that mimics the roar of a motorcycle engine.

Reno’s immersion into this milieu is not merely passive observation; she becomes inextricably linked to a prominent Italian artist, Sandro Valera, heir to a motorcycle and tire manufacturing empire. This relationship serves as a conduit for her entry into the deeper currents of the era, from the radical politics simmering in Italy to the burgeoning feminist art movement in America. Kushner deftly interweaves these disparate threads, creating a rich tapestry that feels both historically grounded and deeply personal. The novel’s scope, therefore, extends beyond a simple coming-of-age story, encompassing broader social and political critiques that resonate with surprising force.

One of the novel's most impressive achievements is its vivid recreation of the 1970s, not through overt historical exposition, but through atmosphere, dialogue, and meticulously chosen details. The grit of New York City, the specific aesthetics of conceptual art, the idealism and disillusionment of political movements — all are brought to life with an authenticity that suggests deep research combined with an intuitive understanding of the period’s zeitgeist. Kushner avoids caricature, even when depicting characters who might easily fall victim to it; instead, she imbues them with a complex humanity, revealing their contradictions and vulnerabilities alongside their grand pronouncements.

Despite its many strengths, "The Flamethrowers" occasionally suffers from a certain narrative diffusion. Reno, as a character, often feels more like a lens through which to view the era and its characters than a fully fleshed-out protagonist with her own driving agency. While her detached observational quality is clearly intentional, allowing for a broader engagement with the surrounding world, it can sometimes leave the reader yearning for a deeper emotional connection to her internal life. Her motivations, beyond the initial motorcycle ambition, can feel elusive, making some of her later actions seem less a consequence of character development and more a function of plot necessity.

Nevertheless, "The Flamethrowers" remains a significant achievement, a novel that rewards careful reading and contemplation. It is a book that demands engagement, not merely passive consumption, and its lingering questions about authenticity, artifice, and the allure of radical gestures continue to resonate long after the final page. Kushner has crafted a work that feels both expansive in its historical sweep and intimate in its portrayal of individual experience, solidifying her reputation as a formidable voice in contemporary American literature.