A Hologram for the King

A hologram is a wonderful metaphor for so many things. It's an amazing technological achievement, almost magical, but at the same time, it's empty, fake, vacuous. Eggers isn't very subtle with his metaphors. In fact, the entire book is so ham handed with how it delivers its point about the ravages of neo-liberalism and globalization and the decline of good ol' working class America, it's quite amazing there's any story left. I mean, the protagonist is called Clay, for crying out loud.

Though, to be perfectly honest, there isn't that much of a story left. The book is mostly a series of memories and contemplations, with some plot thrown in for good measure in between, though it doesn't really do much. Eggers is a great writer, when he wants to. This book contains two of the best written sex scenes I've read in a long time, and at some point he waxes poetic about the Saudi scenery and it's like being there. But unfortunately, there's not much room for this in between the pontificating on the vagaries of the modern economy, and attempts to be too clever by half.
This book might have been a couple of good short stories and an op-ed. But put together, it's less than the sum of its parts.