Kosinski’s fourth novel presents the adventures and narcissistic reflections of a young man named Jonathan James Whalen. Born into enormous wealth, Whalen, a college dropout and recovering addict, is aimless, lacks any sort of marketable skill or talent, and spends much of his time partaking in decadent or bohemian pleasures: traveling, experimenting with drugs, having sex. Whalen’s father was an industrial magnate who amassed the family fortune in steel, then extended his business interests into other profitable arenas such as pharmaceuticals, shipping, finance and manufacturing before dying in a drowning accident. The story, such as it is, begins with Jonathan’s return home to the United States after his mother’s suicide and following an extended period abroad, visiting places like Nepal and Burma. If Jonathan’s mind was expanded by his travels, it doesn’t show as he remains a remarkably shallow individual who seems to derive satisfaction from impressing strangers with his wealth. He also seems obsessed with how unhappy he is and how empty his life is, despite the independence that his father’s money grants him. Much of the book is given over to his relationship with a girlfriend of sorts named Karen, a model reputed for her beauty with whom Jonathan maintains a fractious on-again, off-again relationship. Their encounters are almost always sexual, but are not especially passionate and, indeed, have a chilling, clinical quality to them that seems to signify that neither Karen nor Jonathan is psychologically capable of finding happiness or fulfillment anywhere, particularly in each other. The difference is that Jonathan keeps searching his soul looking for reasons why happiness and fulfillment elude him, while coolly cynical Karen apparently never expected to be happy in the first place and couldn’t care less. In the book’s latter half, Jonathan suspects that he’s being followed and goes to great lengths to find out who and why, finally tracing his pursuers back to the Company, which perceives him, as heir and majority stakeholder—and someone who leads an itinerant, unstructured, impulsive lifestyle—as a rogue element that they can’t control and whose erratic behaviour renders the Company vulnerable on many fronts. It is at this point that Whalen realizes that he will never be free. The Devil Tree is anything but a conventional novel, in both structure and focus. The narrative is constructed as a series of vignettes and brief first- and third-person aphorisms and reflective passages presented from a variety of perspectives. This fragmented story of a young man who can find no purpose in being alive, who is trapped in a world of privilege, implies that modern life is vacuous and destructive to the human psyche, that all of us are held captive by the very society that we have built, that our values are twisted, our potentials blunted, our aspirations illusory. In this respect, The Devil Tree is a profoundly pessimistic novel, but at the same time we can only marvel at the single-minded tenacity with which Kosinski approaches Whalen’s story and the level of skill and craft needed to engage the reader in the antics of a character who is essentially a pathetic and self-centred wastrel. Despite the shortcomings of its protagonist, the novel is fascinating, thought-provoking and undeniably disturbing. However, at no point does it generate the creepiness and suspense of his early masterworks, The Painted Bird and Steps.