Leans a degree or two into the wrong half of the 'How clever does it think it is?' v 'How clever is it actually?' axis, with some of the smarty pants-isms lending a flatness to both the should-be zealous history lectures and the not-really-Harold-Bloom zingers. Still, when Cohen resigns himself to the fact that he's ultimately decided to write a slightly wittier and wordier second-generation immigrant diaspora novel, maybe even a loose commentary on the genre, the results are as frequently effective as giddily nasty. It isn't as funny or 'purely pleasurable' as the back of the box quote on my copy insists, but occasionally you'll get an extended set-piece of a teenage girl pre-ordaining her own facial mutilation via three stooges routine and at these points you can't help but feel those qualifiers have some merit. The titular Netanyahu is easily the best-sketched and funniest character, so I understand the impetus to let his quack monologues stand in for the wackier comedy of the first two thirds, it's certainly no mistake they take the form of labyrinthine drones, but it's still a comparatively dull final act. Likely most fun if you yourself have a tie to either half of the phrase Jewish American but still worth the read for the simple unpretentious pleasure of rude houseguest slapstick dressed up as high-brow literature. I love seeing mega-nerds writing this kind of thing. Let loose a little, get goofy, win the Pulitzer. Not a bad way to spend your days off.