Danny Goodman’s debut novel, Amerikaland, explores a devolving world of global terrorism and antisemitism through the eyes of two professional athletes: Sandy Katzman, an esteemed baseball player, and Sabine Hellewege, a tennis champion. Both were present at the bombing of World Day, an event hosted at New Ebbets Field and the City Open. These longtime friends reconnect following the attack, each trying to make sense of the violence and how to best counteract it — both as public figures and in their personal encounters with terror.
Amerikaland centers multiple revolving themes: managing grief as it stacks upon itself; fighting oppression; and living as a symbol of excellence and perseverance. As for the latter, both Sandy and Sabine have been high achievers in their sport for a while, and they’ve learned — at great cost — how to navigate the media during times of great stress. This duality — being a “hero” and being a person — is conveyed in the many interviews the two characters have to give.
The grief that both characters face seems insurmountable. They enter the novel with their own painful histories: Sabine was shot on court a few months prior to the start of the novel; Sandy’s father died in a terrorist attack; Sabine’s mother died when she was a girl, and her father-turned-coach was emotionally withdrawn and abrasive. The trauma they endure and witness only continues to mount as the novel goes on. They display a certain spiritual endurance and commitment to both themselves and their friends; however, the grief they face sometimes makes the novel feel especially grave and, at times, relentless. This appears to be part of the novel’s objective, but it makes Amerikaland a heavy read, one that needs to be moved through slowly and with care.
The book depicts a bleak alternate world, where a covert organization of neo-Nazis has developed a deeply entrenched network across the globe. Goodman does an excellent job of mirroring the current day’s Nazism: fractionalized and quiet yet omnipresent. Rather than showing up as a unified front, the neo-Nazis typically don’t take credit for their terror attacks, preferring to sow chaos and hatred among groups — primarily minorities — to achieve their ends. In constructing this group and Sabine and Sandy’s interactions with it, though, the book’s plot takes some leaps that feel a bit unbelievable and rely too much on coincidence.
Amerikaland offers a compelling portrayal of the professional lives of both Sabine and Sandy. Goodman clearly has a strong understanding about and respect for baseball and tennis, and these attributes keep Sabine and Sandy’s lives grounded amid the chaos.
This is a strong debut that grapples with wide-ranging and intimidating subjects. The world in it is depressing, but it offers reasons to hope, too, in the form of resistance against terrorism and antisemitism.
Benjamin Selesnick lives and writes in New Jersey. His writing has appeared in decomP, Lunch Ticket, Santa Fe Writers’ Project Quarterly, and other publications. He holds an MFA in fiction from Rutgers-Newark.
