The Many Assassinations of Samir, the Seller of Dreams

Content Warning: This section contains discussion of death and violence.

Samir’s stories, which are typically full of lies and exaggerations, are a central part of the narrative from the very beginning, and Monkey is consistently annoyed at how much he stretches the truth. Although Samir is often “lying” in a technical sense, Monkey slowly learns that the truth is not black and white but more fluid, and Samir’s lies often benefit the audience as much as they benefit him. The setting of the Silk Road and the centrality of assassination to the plot also contribute to the development of this theme, since stretching the truth is often needed for survival, further complicating the black-and-white morality Monkey claims to uphold at any cost. However, the novel pushes this idea further to suggest that storytelling ensures survival not just through lying and evasion but also through creating human connections and a vital support network to survive the harsh world of the Silk Road. 

Through Samir’s stories, the novel illustrates how manipulating the truth can be strictly a matter of survival, as Samir lies to keep them both alive. Rasseem’s hatred of Samir’s stories is one of the reasons he has hired assassins to kill him, but Samir’s fluid truths save Monkey’s life and his own on multiple occasions. The ways in which his lies and stories save their lives, however, are not always direct. One example of Samir’s tactics is illustrated when he tells traders exaggerated stories of his travels as a warmup to trading for cherry paste and raki. The spice traders are enraptured with his stories, to Monkey’s annoyance, even though they know it is all false and outright impossible; the point is not to learn the truth but to enjoy Samir’s time, company, and skills. Monkey notes that, at one point, “[t]he merchants nodded to one another for their noble part in the adventure—selling all those spices” (83). In the harsh world of the Silk Road, storytelling becomes a shared experience and a point of connection. The spice merchants and Samir help each other survive by reminding each other that their relationships are necessary, even if their only interactions are externally transactional. Samir understands that the concept of truth isn’t as important as creating meaningful relationships because connecting with others and reminding them of their importance to the world is more vital than telling the truth. Their shared connection helps them to rely on each other and survive the harsh world of the Silk Road.

As the novel continues, Monkey is forced to admit that his own story is less “true” than it initially seems. He is a storyteller, too, relating the tale of their journey to the leader of the Rogue Legion, raising the question of whether he is lying to manipulate their perspective of him—the truth is deliberately unclear. He also lies to the soldiers about Samir’s fate (and his hand in it). Monkey’s narration and the revelation that he might be manipulating the story to create a connection with the soldiers provides a metafictional experience in which the reader is as much subject to the idea of truth being relative in storytelling as the characters. Ultimately, what is “true” within the book does not matter so much as the experience of telling and hearing the story, reinforcing the novel’s contention that storytelling is a means of connection, not strictly a means of relating the truth. By the end of the novel, Monkey, like Samir, understands that to tell a good story ensures survival for another day; even better, it ensures connection and companionship, elevating life beyond just survival.