然而，《华尔街的年轻人》是一本非常有意思，毫无阅读障碍的好书，它会让你开怀大笑，但也有可能让你嗤之以鼻。切尔西对刚刚领到手的2.5万美元奖金很不满意。德里克进入金融界是因为，“我想让那帮认为我愚蠢到家的高中同学睁开狗眼，好好见识一下我的能耐。”他非常珍惜自己的“交易玩具”（“搞定，绝世大帅哥”是他庆贺大交易的口头禅），喜欢在睡觉前盯着它们看。J.P.时常播放说唱歌曲《早死快活》(Live Fast, Die Young)，以寻找灵感。但他听歌时戴着耳机，坐在办公桌旁，因为他总是独自一人，疲惫不堪地鼓捣各种数字，一直至深夜。
这本书的亮点之一是一段围绕德意志银行(Deutsche Bank)风险分析师朴秀珍（卢斯笔下8个主人公中仅有的两位女性之一）展开的讨论。这位乐观的卫尔斯利女子学院(Wellesley College)毕业生“很快就发现，她就职的风险管理部依然是男人的天下。”在朴秀珍所在的部门，只有她没有达到行政助理级别。她的经历给了卢斯一个机会，来讨论华尔街女性的处境这个重要的议题。他解释说，“女性在金融职场的进展一直比表面看起来的情形更加微弱，”随即列举了详实的数据证实自己的这种判断。
If you live in New York City, you know the young Wall Street type: dark suit, wide-knot tie, meticulous hair, and an all-business demeanor that contradicts the baby face. Oh, and they're making a ton of money.
But it turns out that wealth isn't free. The job is their life. The hours are excessive -- and not limited to the workweek. Their superiors own them. One iPhone ping and your friend must leave the movie and head to her office.
At one point in Young Money, the well-written new book by Kevin Roose, a senior associate at a Wall Street firm lectures a young go-getter: "Helping the world is great and all, but you need to be motivated by money." We're meant to find such a quote shocking. But many who follow the world of finance will see it as confirming what they already thought.
Thus, it's unclear who the audience really is for Young Money. The New York media world is buzzing about it, but the revelation that young bankers are unhappy does not constitute news for that world -- neither for financial journalists, nor for the bankers themselves, nor for any person working in business in Manhattan, San Francisco, or Boston. The picture Roose paints may indeed shock and enlighten the legions of people in America who live away from the power centers and are thus not already acquainted with young bankers or aware of the less glamorous, day-to-day demands of the job. But how much do they really care?
Nevertheless, Young Money is a fun and fast read that will make you laugh out loud, or perhaps scoff instead. Chelsea isn't satisfied with her $25,000 bonus. Derrick entered finance because, "I want all those people in high school who thought I was stupid to fucking suck it." He cherishes his "deal toys" ("clear, Lucite hunks" commemorating big deals) and likes to look at them before bed. J.P. plays the rap song "Live Fast, Die Young" for inspiration -- but he's listening on headphones, at his desk, where he's crunching numbers into the night, alone, tired.
If Roose has a mission, it's to inform America that until they hit a certain job level, Wall Street's ladder-climbers are in fact harried, frustrated, lonely, and, above all, dead tired. They lead an unhealthy lifestyle, physically and emotionally. One of Roose's subjects develops a brutal disease, perhaps not unrelated to his work stress. Many of their relationships collapse under the weight of their work; dinners out with girlfriends are cancelled night after night.
Your reaction to all of this may be "boo-hoo" and an eye-roll. Pity the poor, overworked 22-year-old making $150,000 in her first year out of college. Roose acknowledges that these people have chosen this path, and that the sums they find disappointing are staggering to most of their non-banking peers. ("J.P. knew he wouldn't find much sympathy on Main Street, where being paid $90,000 as a twenty-four-year-old was still a tremendous accomplishment.") But in general, he resists from commentary.
One highlight is the discussion around Soo-jin Park, a risk analyst at Deutsche Bank (DB) and one of only two women among Roose's eight subjects. An optimistic Wellesley College grad, Soo-jin "quickly discovered that her risk management group was still a man's world." She is the only female in her division who is not an administrative assistant. Her experience affords Roose the opportunity to discuss the important issue of women on Wall Street. "Women's progress in finance has been somewhat shallower than it appears," he explains, backing it up with numbers.