The Subprimes
A Novel
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- $16.99
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- $16.99
Publisher Description
A wickedly funny dystopian parody set in a financially apocalyptic future America, from the critically acclaimed author of Triburbia.
In a future America that feels increasingly familiar, you are your credit score. Extreme wealth inequality has created a class of have-nothings: Subprimes. Their bad credit ratings make them unemployable. Jobless and without assets, they’ve walked out on mortgages, been foreclosed upon, or can no longer afford a fixed address. Fugitives who must keep moving to avoid arrest, they wander the globally warmed American wasteland searching for day labor and a place to park their battered SUVs for the night.
Karl Taro Greenfeld’s trenchant satire follows the fortunes of two families whose lives reflect this new dog-eat-dog, survival-of-the-financially-fittest America. Desperate for work and food, a Subprime family has been forced to migrate east, hoping for a better life. They are soon joined in their odyssey by a writer and his family—slightly better off, yet falling fast. Eventually, they discover a small settlement of Subprimes who have begun an agrarian utopia built on a foreclosed exurb. Soon, though, the little stability they have is threatened when their land is targeted by job creators for shale oil extraction.
But all is not lost. A hero emerges, a woman on a motorcycle—suspiciously lacking a credit score—who just may save the world.
In The Subprimes, Karl Taro Greenfeld turns his keen and unflinching eye to our country today—and where we may be headed. The result is a novel for the 99 percent: a darkly funny comedy about paradise lost and found, the value of credit, economic policy, and the meaning of family.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
When even a seemingly abstruse economic work like Thomas Piketty's Capital in the Twenty-First Century becomes a runaway bestseller, it's clear inequality is in the zeitgeist. Thus a work of fiction that tackles "this climactic age of American capitalism" head-on and takes its social and economic ills to satirical excess seems the perfect book of the moment but this novel isn't it. In Greenfeld's (Triburbia) near future there are the few haves the sort who fly the HeliJitney to the Hamptons and find solace in a right-wing preacher's extreme gospel of wealth ("God wants us to have a big life, a gigantic life, a ten-thousand-square-foot-mansion-and-a-rib-eye-every-night kind of life") and the have-nots, a vast mass of "subprimes," itinerant and dodging debtors' prison for their low credit scores, who live out of cars and in tent cities built on once thriving middle-class communities. Sargam is a mysterious messiah-like figure who rides in on a motorcycle and establishes a thriving socialist community of subprimes, settled inconveniently atop drillable shale oil. During the inevitable showdown between "people helping people" and greedy corporate interests supported by a privatized police force, several flat characters have predictable epiphanies: the alienated journalist finds belonging and hope, and kids weighed down by standardized scores and math homework learn that playing outside is fun ("I have so rarely seen my children this free"). Though Greenfeld's dystopian future does sound all too real, it's true tragedy, as a novel, is that it is neither very funny nor entertaining. The people deserve more.
