Tom Rachman's "The Imperfectionsts" have received the most glowing literary reviews for a debut novel I've ever encountered.  It is, indeed, a wonderful book.  Maybe one day, I will switch to cultural critique and start writing belletristic essays about artistic qualities of creative endeavors.

For now, though, this is a blog for working stiffs, primarily those operating in entrepreneurial environment with all its quirks, disadvantages, vulnerabilities, strange dynamics and faulty objectives.  Unexpectedly, in addition to its novelistic value, "The Imperfectionists" had something remarkable to offer from that standpoint as well.  Its setting, "the paper," is a microcosm of the small-business universe.  The book dissects extremely personal matters of human misery; and the author appears to be digging deep into his first-hand experience with actual people, whose traits fed his imagination.  Yet, these characters turned out to be a surprising array of archetypes we meet everyday in our offices.

You've got a backstabbing bully, who uses the little authority his position allows him to doll out misery to others and boost his own ego by spewing teasing insults.  You've got a quiet schemer, who hides behind the wall of seeming indifference, while devising and implementing his intricate plan of revenge and ascension.

You've got your driven career woman who will sacrifice everything, including her own happiness, in the pursuit of what she defines as success.  And you've got a perfectionist with encyclopedic knowledge of all matters related to his profession and ambition of high quality.

You've got your obsessive-compulsive sloppy staffer, who has been there for twenty years, still as mediocre as ever and ridden with fears of dismissal, displaying the full spectrum of passive-aggressive behavior.  And so on, and so forth…

There is even a painfully familiar female CFO who thinks that the other employees "can't accept that she's young and a woman and above them in the food chain.  But she's the one keeping them employed."  Sounds familiar?

And yes, there is the expected succession of private owners: from the brilliant founder; to the son, desperately trying to prove his worthiness, but failing exactly because of that; to the completely disinterested and unfit grandson.  None ever caring about people they employ and at the end betraying their own legacy.

The business is small, struggling in the era of media transformation, dying…  I was astonished with Mr. Rachman's description of the strange sensation overwhelming the employees when they realize  that this stage of their lives is over – I have observed these emotions in people's eyes myself: "All these years, they have vilified the paper, but now it's threateining to quit them, they're desperately in love with it again."

Isn't this amazing that inside a very private book we still find characters so familiar, we recognize them as if they were our co-workers and, in some ways, ourselves.  What does it say about us?  Is it possible that with all our uniqueness and human individuality, when it comes to our jobs, we just fall into the draws of files organized by type?