Top critical review
2.0 out of 5 starsThe Maleversion of a Mary Sue should be called a Mitch Rapp
Reviewed in the United States 🇺🇸 on July 15, 2017
I struggled whether I wanted to go 1 star or 2 stars, and ultimately landed on 2 because American Assassin is readable, which is about as high a praise as I'm able to give it.
I'm sure this will be interpreted as me just being some limp wristed, delicate snowflake of a liberal, and it will be argued that manly men will appreciate the take-no-nonsense action hero presented in Mitch Rapp, but if this represents any kind of standard for the representation of the character, then count me out.
I decided to take a look at the book based on the trailer for the upcoming movie, which itself seems to be telling at least a slightly more layered tale than this book.
Let's start with our hero, Mitch Rapp. Look, I understand the appeal of badasses, with seemingly superhuman skills in spy craft, and an element of moral flexibility that allows them to take lives in service to their country. As much as I consider it schlock, I can cheer on Arnold in Commando taking down a small army by himself with nothing but his rippling biceps and one liners, but I can do that because it has a self awareness about it that is sadly missing from American Assassin. Mitch Rapp is nothing less than a Mary Sue: a flawless, wish fulfillment vehicle for a specific demographic of men who like the idea of killing terrorists in secret while the world never knows how much safer it is because of them. Mitch Rapp can't be called a character. Characters have personalities. Having tragically lost your high school sweetheart to terrorists and wanting revenge isn't a personality. It's hackneyed and one dimensional.
We spend much of the opening chapters with Mitch Rapp being "trained" to be the the end-all-be-all of unofficial CIA assassins, but what's the point of having your main character do any of that when he's able to best his instructor (who we're told in no uncertain terms, with a near religious vigor, is the best of the best in government badasses) in unarmed combat within moments of being introduced to him. He is able to outshine the best of military special ops in every aspect for no other reason than him being a gifted natural athlete and a genius. They do attempt to humble him a little bit when his understanding of the use of firearms is lacking, but that lasts for all of 10 seconds, as by the third clip, his grouping has improved dramatically. The goofiness of the whole section surrounding his training had me straight up laughing at several points.
His teacher/mentor Stan Hurley isn't much better, if only slightly more rounded. At least he has actual flaws and vices which make him feel human, but he had to have them, lest the book collapse in on the weight of its own self righteousness. And despite being a more realistic character, his actions and opinions often make little sense given his pedigree. His dislike of Rapp throughout most of the book is baffling. Like, I get how he might have been reticent of Mitch Rapp initially, as he's a career soldier presented with a kid who has no discernible combat training (although we find out Rapp trained for a few months at a dojo, or something? They are never entirely clear about the extent of that point), but as soon as Rapp distinguishes himself as a cut above all the other actual soldiers, that reticence stops holding water. I know it seems like a small point, but it's a microcosm of the sum total of the narrative failings of the book. It will just outright abandon its own internal logic if it means Rapp gets to look more heroic or badass. And that brings me to the villains.
As goofy as reading about Rapp's training and first missions were, it was at least tolerable compared to the chapters focusing on the either Russian or Muslim villains of the story. The depictions of Muslims and Islam didn't so much skirt the line of racism so much as tap dance on top of the line. The terrorist organization was called, I kid you not, "Islamic Jihad", which sounds like a name Trey Parker would have rejected in the making of Team America for being too obvious and on the nose. It is possible to approach the subject of extremist terrorism without using only caricatures and stereotypes, but this book wants to leave no room subtlety. While we're on the subject of stereotypes, the main Russian money man doesn't fare much better as an ex-KGB, vodka drunk man of excess, who loves the cold weather of Russia as much as he loves prostitutes. We're supposed to believe that they're all smart, calculating clever villains, yet as soon as Mitch Rapp gets involved, dismantling their entire organization and stealing all their money seems just incredibly easy. Halfway competent criminals, who have spent their lives building vast terrorist networks should have been able to safeguard their money so one random ex-Nazi (not kidding, actual plot point) wasn't the literal lynchpin that tumbled their entire financial support system. You'd think they'd be better at hiding and fortifying their base and hostages so that one guy with a razor blade hidden in his hair couldn't single handedly topple the whole thing.
Again, there isn't a wink to the audience by Arnold Schwarzenegger here. We are supposed to take this story seriously. But it's hard to when the new recruit is basically infallible and falls into just every bit of his success, including his clumsy (or at least should have been based on his dialogue) seduction of a Swiss, blonde bombshell, which seemed to really undercut the emotional turmoil of Rapp's revenge seeking over his lost love. But then again, as I said, Mitch Rapp, at least in this book, isn't a character. He's a vehicle to drive around in. But if this is all Mitch Rapp has to offer, I'm not terribly interested in seeing what else the character has to offer.
