THE CYCLIST (2012)

Nameless, nationless, and perpetually famished, the narrator of Berberian's robustly flavorful first novel spends most of his time musing over ''a world where some make war, others omelets'' -- even as he prepares to deliver a bomb by bicycle to a Beirut hotel. Word and meaning often sit several chairs apart at this verbal and ideological smorgasbord, but the incantatory prose gumbo is redolent of Nabokov -- and might be as sumptuous if Berberian displayed that master's mesmeric control. A sensual terrorist? It sounds improbable, given what we think we know of the ascetic-extremist mentality. Yet this man's tastes are catholic: An experiential gourmand, he dines on hate and love in equal measure. ''The road to terrorism usually begins with a pinch of alienation; a dab of ennui,'' he notes. ''My advice to those who want to avoid this condition is to increase their intake of honey.''