Publishers Weekly
Gilvarry’s debut gracefully tackles politically charged subject matter, acknowledging the validity of the terrorist threat as well as the danger of stereotyping and fear-mongering. In 2002, Boyet Hernandez moves from Manila to New York with dreams of becoming a famous fashion designer. Four years later, he almost does just that, earning the name “Fashion Terrorist” after being arrested by Homeland Security and taken to Guantánamo, accused of war crimes that were part of a terrorist plot. As he is relentlessly questioned, Boyet shares the story of his life in—and “unrequited love for”—America, recounting the years leading up to his imprisonment with wit and compassion, curious as to where he went wrong. As an immigrant struggling to make ends meet, he accepted help from gangsters and men on international watch lists. However, he also socialized with the city’s fashion elite, raising the question of how guilty one is by association. Like his idol Coco Chanel (arrested in 1943 for her Nazi ties), Boyet is thrust into a public spectacle of good and evil. An engaging victim of uncertain times, he’s a protagonist who will appeal to readers of all political persuasions. (Jan.)
Library Journal
Written as a confession from his cell, this is the story of how Boy Hernandez, a recent graduate of design school in Manila, moves to New York to become the next big thing in fashion but ends up being dragged out of his loft by federal agents and sent to Guantánamo Bay. There he's accused of terrorist connections and given a Koran, though he's a lapsed Catholic. When Boy landed in New York, he was naive, ambitious, and spoiled, but he had vision and was willing to work hard. Unfortunately, he considered only his needs and wants, ignoring the ugly and unpleasant in his personal relationships and decidedly shady business arrangements. First novelist Gilvarry has political concerns and much to say, but his style and dark humor are subtle and witty. Experienced from Boy's perspective, the events that unfold are equally disturbing and entertaining; Boy is far too fabulous to let indefinite detainment destroy him. VERDICT A smart, funny novel with political undertones that will also be particularly enjoyable for those with an interest in fashion. [See Prepub Alert, 8/1/11.]—Shaunna E. Hunter, Hampden-Sydney Coll. Lib., VA
Kirkus Reviews
A would-be fashion mogul comes to America to pursue the American Dream, only to wind up wearing an orange Gitmo jumpsuit. Gilvarry's debut novel aspires to be an allegory about how immigrant ambition has become stifled in the wake of post-9/11 paranoia. The narrator, Boyet Hernandez, arrives in New York City from the Philippines in 2002, eager to pursue a career in haute couture. But the reader knows immediately that his dreams were dashed: The novel is written in the form of a prison memoir, composed at the suggestion of his jailers as he awaits judgment from a military tribunal for allegedly consorting with terrorists. Chapters begin with observations about the camp's cramped quarters and barely humane regulations, but the story mostly focuses on Boyet (nicknamed Boy) as he makes his slow rise in the fashion world, consorting with models, begging for favors from established designers and hustling for financing. That last effort is what gets him in trouble, because his main patron is a sketchy landlord who possesses a questionable amount of weaponize-able fertilizer. Gilvarry keeps the tone of the story lightly satirical without diminishing the seriousness of Boy's predicament, and he skillfully captures the frenetic world of striving designers and Brooklyn hipsters. The novel's chief flaws have more to do with structure than tone. Characters in the story besides Boy rarely become more than strictly functional (a publicist with the unfortunate name of Ben Laden is a thin signifier of law-enforcement ineptitude), and shifting between Boy's incarceration and Manhattan memories grows repetitive and undramatic until the closing pages. A fashion writer's faux annotations add little, and his afterword closes the book on a melodramatic note that clashes with Boy's character. Gilvarry is a talented writer and observer, but the satirical elements could have been better tailored.
