In the wickedly bittersweet and hilarious You Must Go and Win , the Ukrainian-born musician Alina Simone traces her bizarre journey through the indie rock world, from disastrous Craigslist auditions with sketchy producers to catching fleas in a Williamsburg sublet. But Simone offers more than down-and-out tales of her time as a struggling she has a rapier wit, slashing and burning her way through the absurdities of life, while offering surprising and poignant insights into the burdens of family expectations and the nature of ambition, the temptations of religion and the lure of a mythical Russian home. Wavering between embracing and fleeing her outsized and nebulous dreams of stardom, Simone confronts her Russian past when she falls in love with the music of Yanka Dyagileva, a Soviet singer who tragically died young; hits the road with her childhood friend who is dead set on becoming an "icon"; and battles male strippers in Siberia.
Hailed as "the perfect storm of creative talent" ( USA Today, Pop Candy), Simone is poised to win over readers of David Rakoff and Sarah Vowell with her irresistibly funny and charming literary debut.
Alina Simone is a critically acclaimed singer who was born in Kharkov, Ukraine, and now lives in Brooklyn. Her music has been covered by a wide range of media, including BBC’s The World, NPR, Spin, Billboard, The New Yorker, and The Wall Street Journal. She is the author of the book You Must Go and Win. Note to Self is her debut novel.
This delightful book reads rather like a modern iteration of the superlative Underfoot in Show Business. Alina Simone is a struggling indie folk singer with a wonderful turn of phrase and a fascination with Siberia. This book consists of short-ish autobiographical pieces vaguely centred around her attempts to get a music career off the ground. Her writing is witty, absurd, and self-deprecating. I especially enjoyed the chapter in which she became obsessed with an obscure self-castrating sect. Reading a book titled ‘Castration and the Heavenly Kingdom’ turns out to be ideal for deterring a pushy man trying to flirt with her. I also particularly appreciated the chapter in which she deals with the New York rental market.
(As an aside, I’ve observed (solely from reading, please note) that slummy rental places in New York always seem to have vermin of some kind. Whereas in London and Cambridge, from actual experience, slummy rental places all have copious black mould, but rarely any scuttling creature larger than a spider. My tentative hypothesis is that we recycle more in the UK thus have fewer rats & cockroaches, whereas in the US they are more likely to have air conditioners and/or proper ventilation so don't get so much mould. Clearly more research on this topic is needed.)
'You Must Go and Win' has especial appeal for women in their twenties and thirties who feel like their eighteen year old self would be disappointed with how little they have achieved to date. I count myself in this group, so liked it a lot. The whole thing was written with such a great mixture of joy and irony that I tried and failed to select one piece to quote.
You Must Go and Win is a book of essays written by musician Alina Simone. In this book, the reader is taken through the journey of what its like to be the parents of Ukrainian immigrants, a musician on the indie scene, and how many things can really go wrong when you visit places like Siberia.
Some of the essays focus on Simone's music career, which takes many twists and turns that mostly end up with her back in the same place, playing to small crowds. But the perseverance shines through, making the reader feel like the journey is worth the trouble, even when you don't end up where you think you are going. Many of the essays are also focused on traveling. Simone chronicles road trips with friends, tours in Europe, and her many visits to Siberia. All of these stories are full of introspection and humor. My favorite in the book is one called “Down and Out on Hope Street.” Much of this story is about the apartment shared in Brooklyn with some interesting characters, plus a few fleas on top of that.
I also had the chance to listen to Simone's music and found it entertaining and a good soundtrack to listen to when I want to mellow out a bit. But as she says in her book—it's not for everyone.
Overall, this book is a great read for those that love to hear about the indie music scene. It's also great for those that want to read something that feels more like sitting down talking to a friend rather than picking up a book.
*Reviewer received the book for free through Goodreads First Reads
From the second I started reading, I wanted to have coffee with Alina Simone. She seems like exactly the kind of self-effacing bohemian I'd hang out with in Pittsburgh, and although her humor sometimes wanders into hyperbolia, her wit and turns of phrase are fantastic. She reminded me of Sloane Crosley, except with more to say, and her Russian background becomes more than an ethnic crutch or cheap joke. She *really* tries to connect with her Slavic roots, and the effort is both awful and surreally heartwarming.
The strange part of reading YMGAW was then looking up her music. I listened to the book on audio, and her voice sounds almost adolescently amused by everything around her. Her singing voice sounds completely different, as if dubbed over by an indie-rocker in the "Glee" episode of her life. This is frequently the case -- singing voices, especially among seasoned singers, are often unpredictable. But even the tone of Simone's original lyrics is generally dark, brooding, and lonely. I'd never guess, listening to her lyrics, that Simone is married, or funny, or even capable of laughing.
So, yes, I would definitely do coffee. Given these dualistic personalities, literary and musical, I'd be fascinated to know what Simone is like in person. I wouldn't castrate myself for the opportunity (she has a thing for literally self-castrating Russian mystics), but I'd definitely buy front-row seats at a show.
When I learned that author Alina Simone is also a Brooklyn-based indie musician, I thought "Hipster alert" and started reading carefully. My assumption was lame. This modest essay collection is equal parts travelogue, career blog, and identity search--with barely any traces of their annoying downsides. Simone travels to Siberia and Canada (plus some US cities) and the lack of "Hey, look at the wacky locals / I'm such a badass traveler" attitude was refreshing. Observant humor and wit are also woven into random conversations with music industry folks, family and friends, and even strangers on Facebook.
I actually listened to the audiobook of this, but that edition wasn't listed. It took me a little while to get used to the author's voice, which is 1 part Sarah Vowell to 2 parts Drew Barrymore, but ultimately it was just right. She's smart, insecure, funny, and perceptive. There's definitely some privileged white ennui going on, but not so that you want to punch her in the face. She cringes at herself for you, so it's okay.
Also, I learned everything I now know about Russian castrati from this book.
It turns out that, in addition to being a great songsmith, Simone happens to be an incredible writer of prose. Her essays are often laugh-out-loud funny, always smart and heartfelt. Like indie rock’s answer to David Sedaris, she paints her life with equal parts tragedy and comedy, and just the right amount of self-deprecation.
Recommended to anyone who likes the style of Dadid Rakoff, Sarah Vowell, etc.
These are some of the issues Simone struggles with in her long journey to understand her zany Russian relatives, her constant humiliation as a young, traveling musician and why she has ended up in Siberia more times than she will admit to?
This book is wonderfully enlightening and a hilarious take on the consequences of giving up and the effort it takes to move forward in life,
Possibly I wouldn't have found Simone's accounts of being a struggling musician in terrible Brooklyn apartments so amusing if I hadn't just conducted an apartment search (one guy asked me if I was interested in seeing an apartment with a shared bathroom in the hall and seemed surprised when I said no). But the bits about Russia and disappointing expectations were also hilarious.
Alina Simone’s critically (and, on occasion, uncritically) acclaimed collection of personal essays "You Must Go and Win," documents her circuitous path through music industry’s wilderness and the discovery of her Russian roots. You must go and read it.
At the risk of overgeneralizing: Simone deadpans as perhaps only an Eastern European can; her voice engages as perhaps only an American storyteller’s is able to. Simone has been called "a frenzied, Eastern European musician’s version of humorist David Sedaris." Both Simone and Sedaris find humor in the banality of life; both are self-identified outsiders; both are yearning for something defined only vaguely. But to compare the two is on par with saying that their last names begin with the letter S.
The Epic Struggle
In her review of "You Must Go and Win" in The Jewish Daily Forward, Yevgeniya Traps maintains that Simone belongs to the category of young immigrants who are "crippled by the realization that they—coddled and suburbanized—can never be as tough as their parents, who were disciplined by Communist deprivation and driven to the terrible risks of emigration. This second sort is moved to re-enact, typically with comical results, the experience of displacement and relocation in their career choices."
In the book, Simone recognizes how good she, born in Kharkov, Ukraine, but for all intents and purposes an American, has had it compared to her parents. She also knows that the safety and freedom of her American life deprived her of a force to combat (in fact, in a tacit acknowledgment of her parents’ willpower, she mentions little by way of past rebellion against them). Traps’s interpretation limits in scope the re-enactment of parental experiences. All kids follow in their parents’ footsteps to some degree. Judging from from Simone’s account, her parents’ hardship translates into her entire existence. Children of exiles may carry their parents’ spirit of displacement. But their fight is no longer against an outside power, it is against the self.
Searching for a Life
The late Michael T. Kaufman once told me that the best way to discover a place is to get lost. In "You Must Go and Win" Simone seems lost already, feeling her way through the darkness of uncertainty, grasping for signs. You get a sense that the journey to success is as painful as it is aimless. She tries art school, nonprofit work in Siberia, video-making, and the Orthodox faith, to name just a few experiences. Simone’s sampling of what life throws her way resembles the patchwork of post-modern, progress-less existence. As I tried to make sense of the zigzags, I kept thinking that one of my mother’s many sayings would describe them accurately: "She doesn’t know what to do with herself" ("Nevie, čo so sebou," in the Slovak original).
Simone’s search for identity is also a search for authenticity. While working in Siberia, Simone experienced "a latent desire to go native" and goes on to describe herself as "the daughter of Soviet political refugees and a person more than a little impatient (desperate?) to embrace my ancient heritage and lay claim to the corresponding dose of unbearable suffering that was my birthright," Like many immigrants making their way through America today, Simone seems to have realized that the real she seeks may be whence she came.
Simone seems no closer to her goal at the end of the book than she is at the beginning (one reviewer on Amazon complained of a confusing timeline). Yet it’s no accident that "You Must Go and Win" is the title of the book’s final essay. The absence of a clear destination, a map, or a schedule brings with it an openness to what may come. Along the way, adventures await.
The Best Things in Life Aren’t Free
Simone conceals subtle hints at her own strength beneath the surface pathos of an artist’s grind and her bizarre experiences. She knows discovery comes with a price, and she doesn’t appear to want it to be free (if she were a sports buff she might be chanting, "No pain, no gain"). Traps is right to compare Simone’s quest to making it in America. If, like Simone, you manage to at least keep your head up, you are already well on your way.
I’d never heard of Ukranian-born musician Alina Simone before Neil Gaiman added You Must Go and Win to his line of audiobooks on Audible, but the combination of her background and career piqued my interest, and a recommendation from Gaiman sealed the deal. It is perhaps a little strange that I listened to the book before ever listening to any of her music, but, luckily, her stories are compelling enough to stand on their own.
The book consists of almost a dozen long essays largely focused on the intersections between Simone’s heritage and her tentative musical career. The stories are occasionally rambling, sometimes thoughtful or poignant, and almost always funny. Simone was a childhood friend of Amanda Palmer’s, and one chapter recounts their shared experiences as struggling artists right up until the point when Palmer starts finding success. My favorite story by far involves Simone’s absurdly terrifying experience at a Siberian strip show, where, to her horror, the male strippers pull more than willing audience members onstage and do unmentionable things to them.
Simone is a relatable, down-to-earth storyteller, and her struggles with success are thoughtfully presented throughout. However, the most fascinating stories focus on her oddball fascination with Siberian religion and culture. For example, her idea of reading for fun involves diving into a dense tome about an obscure religious sect who believed that self-castration was the best way to purify the soul. She cheerfully suggests that women carry this book – Castration and the Heavenly Kingdom – as a defense against harassment after using it to scare off an overbearing Italian fan. Her obsession with the strangeness of Siberia was contagious, and I found myself wanting to know more about that faraway region.
Although Simone does a good job keeping things moving with wry, self-deprecating humor and fascinating regional details, some of the stories feel like they are missing a through-line. I enjoyed what she had to say, but I wasn’t always clear how one anecdote tied into the next, and a few of her endings were more elliptical than revelatory. Additionally, the first story or two seemed like comparatively mundane horror stories about the life of a struggling musician, and I was initially worried the whole book would continue in that register.
Overall, however, this collection of essays is a brisk, entertaining read, and an audiobook seems like the ideal format. I came away feeling like I’d learned a few things about Siberia, and I’d especially recommend the book to anyone interested in creativity and the arts.
Here’s a few words of wisdom: “You Must Go and Win.” No matter how cruel and forbidding life becomes in the cutthroat landscape where you’ve tossed your hat, persevere. Clunky, perhaps, but it’s certainly a more uplifting message than the familiar, Don’t Give Up! It’s especially sound advice if you’re slithering through the trenches of the indie rock world, as songstress Alina Simone so ably describes in her always compelling and always humorous collection of essays and memoir.
Simone has an engaging voice, both on stage and on the page. Like her lyrics and vocals which can be raw and edgy, her prose too pulls no punches, as she elucidates on universal subjects such as family, faith, career, and cat medicine. Simone was born in Ukraine but came to the states as an infant when her father was blacklisted by the KGB. She tells of her adventures back to the old country to connect with her nascent roots. She writes of a road trip documentary project with her old, childhood friend Amanda Palmer, pre-Dresden Dolls fame. Simone comments on the late Soviet singer Yanika Dyangileva, whose music she loved (and covered on an album), and how her affection for the singer led her to the Punk Monk, who in turn led her to examine personal matters of faith.
And there’s a whole lot more, especially the Everest-size obstacles that await an indie rock singer or on the road to fame—or simply respectability. Yet despite the Craigslist meetings with would-be producers and well-intentioned startup labels that lead to nowhere, Simone’s talent wins out. Although the hilarious anecdotes and self-deprecating prose is oftentimes more cautionary than inspiring, Simone’s fresh voice is endearing and makes the reader pull for her every step of the way. Indeed, with her debut collection, she’s gone out and won.
A charming collection of trips through Russia, America, and dreams of indie rock stardom, Alina Simone's "You Must Go and Win" is...well, charming. I think this can be a life changing book if read at the right time, as dreams are placed on the shelf and the business of surviving shows itself to be just as noble as living out the harsh reality of fantasy. For all of the life lessons learned in vans, station wagons, and jobs chosen due to their adaptability to touring, they finally coalesce into something that might be called maturity, the kind of character I love to root for, which then makes me sad - as the book is non-fiction, and all of the mental strife and ennui has been actually endured.
There's a part of me that wants to use the buzz line "an indie rock odyssey," but that is selling the book short. This is the story of equally following your dreams, and following the desires of others for the sensible and mundane.
In most of my reviews, I bitch about knowing how the story will end. And here, around the time that Alina narrowly avoids an illegal sublet, I knew how it would go (with my being a subrock dweller, she could have made it big as a musician and I'd have never known) and I was sadden by it. But I wasn't saddened by the book, or by the tale. But I was saddened by both. Like a good song by an indie band, I'm probably going to be examining how the book made me feel. And, I suppose, is the punchline, that sweetens all the sorrow, and makes it something wonderful.
Alina Simone may be the ultimate relatable person on earth. There are so many instances during reading this where I considered how shocked I was that anyone else had experienced incredibly specific circumstances that had an uncanny similarity to my own. I'm in the chapter where she describes hearing "Toxic" everywhere in Siberia, and this is a horrible feeling that I know too- and remember so well hearing "American Idiot" literally blasting in the streets of small towns in Slovakia when I lived there. I think that her writing is more interesting than Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle mainly because I was reading them at the same time and this one pulled ahead as the much more addictive and intriguing reading material. Now I also recommend this for great literature when you're taking a bus ride any distance and may be feeling low on yourself. She has a steady flow of self-deprecating yet intelligent humor that will take the edge off of whatever extreme air-conditioning, stench, or negative vibes you may be soaking up on your next bus ride anywhere. This book will be guaranteed to elicit at the very least a smirk, and more likely a burst of laughter.
I 'read' this on audio, over one weekend during which it played from my phone through our quaint mid-90s amp and accompanied me through piles of washing up and cleaning/tidying/ironing and bread-baking, then dinner preparations. Each time a chapter/essay came to an end and I asked myself if I wanted to 'go one more', I had to answer: yes. When the last one finally closed, I felt as though I had spent one of those great chew-the-fat sessions with a girlfriend, where you admit that you're the dud one in the relationship (he's actually great, and long-suffering) and most of your problems you've created yourself...and can find your own way out of with a confidence you suspect (okay: know) is in you somewhere. If you've ever wondered what it's like to start a creative career from nothing, be a good friend of Amanda Palmer (in youth and now), to rediscover your family's pre-emigration roots, or to find a sort of balance between creative flux and 'settling'...you will get something valuable from this book.
Possibly the best book on a musician's arc ever written, or at least one that understands most fans aren't so much interested in the technical aspects of creation--though there could have been more of that here--so much as they're interested in the emotional journey behind the creative process. Simone doesn't waste time navel-gazing, however, her story is outlined in primarily unsentimental vignettes of her travels, family life, spiritual conversion(not to be confused with proselytizing drivel found in similar stories), and encounters with the most believably unorthodox characters, both musically and culturally. It helps, too, that Simone is a great storyteller with a sophisticated grasp of when to use metaphor and how to be lyrical without being hokey. She also has a perfect sense of comic timing, balancing just the right amount of self-flagellation with modern cynicism and a naive hope and wonder.
** I won this book through Good Reads first reads**
On the plus side, I really enjoyed Alina Simone's writing style. I think she may have a good future as an author!
On the down side, for the most part, the subject matter was very boring for me. It just wasn't interesting! The only part that I really found myself enjoying was learning some of the religious history of Russia. Never thought I'd get anything like that out of this book. I'm interested in reading more about the Skoptsy, a now I've read some more information about them and am fascinated in their belief system. Thank you Alina for introducing that to me!
And thank you as well for the CD! That I really enjoyed.
Anyway, I don't think I'll be recommending this book to anyone. Just not interesting subject matter at all.
You Must Go and Win is a fun memoir about a woman in her 20s and 30s coming to terms with her career possibilities in the world of indie rock and with herself as a born-in-Ukraine-but-raised-in-the-U.S. child of politically-exiled parents. Simone recounts some adventures in Ukraine and in Russia (Siberia in particular) as well as in the U.S. Her writing style is accessible and crafty, though occasionally made strange by some awkward sentences and vocab choices and an overall tone of trying to be witty when I think she could relax and not try so hard. Overall, the book is fun and worth the read. It's nice to read about people figuring themselves out and interpreting life choices and moments towards that end.
I was thinking 3.5 out of 5 stars when I logged on but see I have to choose 3 or 4.
I like essays. I like music. I like a number of Russian speakers from the former Soviet Union who live in New York City (some I those I like very much indeed, my husband for one). So it seemed like an obvious thing to do to enter to win a copy of this collection of essays by the Ukranian-born, Brooklyn-dwelling indie-rocker Alina Simone, but unfortunately this book and I were not a good match. I felt that Simone was striving for Sedaris-like wit in describing experiences that to me seemed quite mundane. I didn't rate the book because I didn't finish it, but I found it a new home where hopefully it will be better appreciated.
In her book of essays titled You Must Go and Win, Alina Simone recounts her journey of self-discovery. Born in the former Soviet Union, she came to the U.S. with her parents as a baby. The lure of home and of the past is powerful: In 2001, Simone traveled to Ukraine and Siberia to uncover her roots. The trip was well worth it—she was then able to tie her heritage and her music together. I applaud her for her ability to bring character to her life. Some of Simone’s tales are so hilarious one can’t help but wonder if they are really true! The timeline was difficult to follow. All in all, I admired Simone’s quest for success in the indie music business.
Although this book is introduced as an account of a Russian singer in the US, I doubt if the promotion is accurately handling the subject matter. Once you begin, you would instantly know that this was more of a Russian born American woman who was re-introduced to her culture of origin because of her never seemingly launching career as a musician. A little irony and the trick of the history, the author ends up tracing her faint and long lost cultural tie with the former soviet union, current Russia. Since I expected a real Russian woman who had come to the US only with her aspiration just to be disillusioned, or something. Meh. I might as write a novel as that.
I listened to this book, downloaded from Audible.com, but the audible version is not one of the choices given here. Some are the essays are 3 star and others, 5 star. Simone does a good job writing humor, which is hard to sustain in any venue. Her attempts to live with a roommate in a tiny apartment in NYC are quite funny as are her descriptions of several trips taken to Russia and the Ukraine. Her research attempts to contact a settlement of Doukobortsy in British Colombia is extremely funny. Ms. Simone seems to have a natural curiosity about numerous subjects and an excellent eye for the unusual. This book was never dull!
Memoirs/essays by a young indie musician, the daughter of Soviet era emigre Jewish physicists from the Ukraine. The best essays are those dealing with her attempts to come more fully to terms with her confusing Russian background - both vis a vis her parents and family and also by way of multiple trips back to the motherland. Simone happened to live in Carrboro, NC for a while, playing at local venues such as the Cats Cradle, though i hadn't heard of her before these essays. Her essays on being a musician at the lower end of the semi-commercial poll are funny..but sometimes whiny. Her essays on family, Russia, Siberia, Ukraine are fascinating.
Meh. The beginning and end are engaging--and certainly the memoir is easy to read--but in the end, what does any of this matter, aside from occasionally interesting but heavily edited stories from one person's life? There's very little there there. I'm interested in why this memoir has garnered so much praise--perhaps it is just the aging of my generation, but hearing someone talk about Britney Spears transforming their understanding of pop music seems dated--and leaves me cold. Very cold. However, I will try her mother's borscht recipe.
Cute, warm essays that remind me of a blog that is always rewarding to visit. She is a singer of Russian descent, and while she is trying to establish a career in music entertainment, she is traveling and having interesting small adventures. This is not a rock'n roll road book, but closer to that of a young woman's diary, a folk singer artist with a great sense of humor. She travels to Siberia trying to find her roots, and she does. Similar to what happens to many of us, roots we may have, but mainly we discover a foreign country.
This book was awesome. It was a series of biographical essays written by a young indie musician. But this book has a much wider appeal than that might make it sound. The struggles Alina Simone go through seem similiar to my own and those of my friends as we struggle to figure out what we want and how to achieve it. Alina has a great sense of humor and a pleasing narrative style. I had never heard her music before reading this book. Afterwards, I went out and bought one of her CDs. I would also recommend her music. :)
Simone recounts, in realistic detail, her often humorous struggle to make it in the indie rock world and ponders her relationships with fame, family, and Mother Russia. Along the way, she raises questions on the nature of art, the motivation to succeed, the yearning for recognition, religion, and social and gender roles across cultures. Whip-smart, this collection of essays is both entertaining and thought-provoking.
I picked this up after hearing about it on NPR, I think. What a great group of essays by a young Ukrainian-American rocker. Because one of my sons is so into music and film, I try out books and music I think he might like. Not only does he usually like what I pick, but I find I'm more of a rock "appreciator" than I ever thought I was. Definitely, rock is sometimes a difficult and very many times a scary road for these young people to take. Nonetheless, their stories are usually fascinating.
The first half is brilliant. Witty, well crafted, laugh out loud funny and insightful. The second half? Not so much. It comes across as maudlin. It feels like the author ran out of energy when writing about her spiritual life, her faltering career, her dying cats. The brilliance is replaced with a maudlin exhaustion, that same lightness from the first set of essays extinguished somewhere in the middle.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Alina Simone is an excellent writer who had no trouble pulling me into her world. Of course it's about music and Austin and Carrboro and ticks and AFP. Who wouldn't find that fascinating? There's some NYC, Russia, a punk monk, and a host of other fascinating topics to explore. I recommend reading it while listening to one of her cds.
This book is a delightful collection of essays that provide an insight to a variety of life experiences of the author including travel to Russia, trying to make it as an indie music artist, and dealing with a dying pet. Alina Simone's candor, dry wit and worldly insights make this a very good read--especially for anyone who has done some of the very things she writes about.