⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4/5

After loving Gary Shteyngart’s novel Vera, or Faith, I was really curious to see what he would do with nonfiction, and The Sensualist was such a fun introduction to another side of his writing.
This is Shteyngart’s first collection of personal essays, but it almost reads like a memoir assembled in pieces. The essays span travel, family, politics, food, watches, clothes, his childhood, his experiences as a Russian Jewish immigrant, and all sorts of other observations about modern life. It feels a little like getting the greatest hits from an extremely funny blog he’s been secretly writing for the last decade.
And Shteyngart is really funny. More than anything, I love what he can do with the English language. His sentences regularly caught me completely off guard.
At one point, after a parrot tells him not to conduct business on Saturday, he writes:
“I am stunned by [the parrot’s] ability to identify my ethnicity. Do I really look that Jewish?”
Then there is possibly the greatest opening to a discussion of a botched circumcision:
“My penis was shaped by the Cold War and God’s covenant with Abraham.”
And in an essay titled “How to Love Your Parents Even If You Hate Their Politics,” he writes:
“Many people I know have parents who are suffering from early Fox News dementia, ranting about the perfidy of Anthony Fauci and the possibility of catching critical race theory from an open jar of mayonnaise.”
That pretty much tells you whether Shteyngart’s particular brand of humor is going to work for you. It definitely works for me.
There are moments when he can come across as a little snobby—this is, after all, a man capable of devoting serious attention to very expensive watches, the perfect suit, and the perfect martini. But then an essay will circle back to his childhood, his parents, immigration, Jewish identity, or what it meant to arrive in the United States from the Soviet Union as a young child. Those experiences give the more indulgent parts of the collection an interesting counterweight. His fascination with beautiful and expensive things feels different when placed alongside memories of having once had very little.
I also think that tension is part of what makes the title work. These essays are ultimately about paying attention to pleasure: food, travel, clothes, family, beautiful objects, ridiculous experiences, and those small moments in life that are worth savoring. Shteyngart is ridiculous. Sometimes touching. Frequently he manages to be both in the same paragraph.
If you enjoy smart, irreverent personal essays and writers who can turn an ordinary observation into something completely unexpected, I definitely recommend this one. I already knew I enjoyed Shteyngart as a novelist after Vera, or Faith. Now I know I enjoy simply spending time inside his brain, too.
The Sensualist: Adventures in Pure Pleasure will be published November 17, 2026.
Thank you to Random House for providing me with an electronic advanced reading copy.








