Unplugged reading, and judging an author by his book titles
I read the best written book about human connection; its blurb should have said: “My other book is about werewolves.”
Hello and happy Sunday!
This week, I did the digital detox I have been talking about. By its original standards, it probably was a failed experiment, but for what I was aiming for, I consider it a success.
I don’t want to turn this into a “ten things I learned from doing a 72-hour digital detox,” but there are some things I want to point out, from the perspective of a modern reader.
But first, let me tell you about the parameters: I tried to cut down any type of screen time (including Kindle and Kobo); I didn’t fully succeed, especially when my husband started reading The Neuromancer ebook (I had come across the book so many times, that I thought “if I don’t read it now, I never will!”).
But while I still used my e-ink Kindle, I was ramping down LED screen time a few days before anyway, so it didn’t really feel like a cut off. The idea was to stay off social media. I tried to not give into the temptation to search for random information, but I checked whatsapp in the evening, which is where my family chats are. This is where I feel I didn’t follow the intended exercise: I didn’t completely shut off my phone. Then again, I can tell you that holding the phone and typing on it felt weird even after a few hours of not using it.
Aside from the fun of the experiment, one reason why I wanted and thought I could benefit from this exercise was to return to my pleasure for reading books without distractions and interruptions. I have been writing about my struggle with anxiety and focus on reading which I circumvented by getting into audiobooks to support my reading. I know that this doesn’t fix the underlying problem, however, and I think my ADHD tendencies are caused by dopamine addiction, which is not easy to break from.
To force this break, I packed some physical books, purely analogue items which never benefitted from an audiobook version or even an ebook, since these are the books I somehow never manage to get around to reading, precisely because they’re analogue. When I pick a book for reading normally, I want to make sure I have it available to me in all shapes and sizes so that I stick with it until I finish it. Otherwise, I get distracted and start other ones if, say, I find myself with a few minutes to spare at the doctor’s and I have my Kindle with me. I rarely take an actual book with me anywhere these days, but my phone and Kindle are mandatory.
One of these fully analogue books I have been wanting to read is a little gem called Love Remains, by Glen Duncan, a book that a good friend of mine gave me almost ten years ago telling me it is unlike anything she had ever read, and that I have to read it. I don’t know when ten years passed, but they did; I remember the moment so vividly, that every time I look at the book cover, I relive it, also because this particular friend is usually hard to impress, so her recommendation meant a lot. The only mistake she made was to tell me I can keep the book and don’t have to rush to read and return it.
When she heard about my digital detox idea, another very good friend said “it should be easy to ignore your phone when you’re on holiday.” And right she was! Other than the urge to take photos, which I tried to stave off by carrying an Instax camera with me, using your phone on the beach is a faff, so I realised I was avoiding it before then anyway. The light dims my screen, I am staring without being able to see anything. Plus, there are so many other things to be looking at on a beach than a screen.
So after all this prep, I started my 72 hours digital break by reading a physical book: with no Wikipedia at hand, no X-ray function or search, no highlight option or dictionary it felt a bit like flying without a parachute. I didn’t completely hyperventilate, because thankfully, my brain remembers a time when reading like this used to be the norm. It took me back to the summers spent at my grandparents’ whose TV signal was very bad and therefore trying to catch anything was a chore. A radio was always on, so music was ensured, and my mother’s book collection was always at hand. The smell of old books brings all that back to my memory.
I have tried to read Love Remains before, and every time I picked it up, it felt like too dense writing. It felt like I would have to suspend reality to immerse myself in it and somehow, it was never the right moment: I was either too tired or too wired to feel up for it.
That’s why this context was perfect for this book: I started reading it at breakfast, around 7 AM in the morning, and I finished right before bed, around 11 PM.
Glen Duncan’s literary shape-shifting
Love Remains, by Glen Duncan is the most authentic and the powerful piece of literature I have ever read. I had never heard of this author before this book and I had never heard of this book until my friend gave it to me some ten years ago. Ever since then I kept an eye out for his name, but nothing ever came up. Trying to find other versions of the book, audio or electronic, has proven futile. It’s rare that something so non mainstream makes it into my hands, and I don’t say this with pride.
From the first paragraph, the book drew me in for the preciseness of the emotions captured so effortlessly. Before I go any further, I should probably state that I am aware subjectivity plays a big role in how anyone reads books, and this book merely got a 3.5 rating on Goodreads. I am surprised, but reading some of the comments, I understand why people don’t see what I see. The blurb on the cover by Big Issue is true: “The writer is a sadist and his book is horrible. You really must read it.” Some readers didn’t detach from the heartbreaking story and downrated the book for it.
Having been on the other side the page, working on crafting character dynamics, carefully selecting words out of the vocabulary to try and convey emotions as accurately and poignantly as possible, I can say that Glen Duncan does it with an elegance and deftness that I have rarely witnessed. I believe I read every sentence twice, so in a way, I feel like I read the book twice while going through it. I didn’t want to scribble on the book, so I wanted to savour the words I wasn’t highlighting. If I were teaching Creative Writing, I would use parts of this book to showcase how writing should be done.
To try and recount what it’s about would be to trivialise it. Everyone who knows me knows I don’t read for the story, but for the writing and the turn of the phrase. But this book has a story, and while you could say it’s a classic trope, it is told in such a satisfyingly new way that I let myself carried away by the experience.
The book follows the journey of Nick and Chloe, who meet at university and quickly fall in love. Their relationship evolves into marriage, complete with the routines and challenges of daily life, eventually growing strained by the weight of familiarity and disappointment. The novel opens after a shattering event: Nick has left London for a path of self-destruction, and Chloe is navigating her own aftermath. The novel explores questions of love, betrayal, and morality as the narrative gradually reveals the tragedy that tore them apart, while delivering an authentic look at the rise and fall of intimacy between two flawed characters.
I became very curious and interested in the author while reading Love Remains and I found myself shaking my head in disbelief while reading it at the excellence of his writing. I felt like I was doing double takes at entire paragraphs. My husband told me he has never seen me so immersed in anything I have read in his presence. I believe a big part of my reactions was my distraction-free experience. I had nowhere else to be, nothing else to think about but these characters and their story. I offered myself to this book and it gave itself back to me, and while I was reading I kept thinking about the person behind the words, wondering about his education and his other books. Normally, I would have probably interrupted my reading to do some research, but I delayed this for when I was out of my digital restriction. I kept telling myself “surely, he has written a bunch more other deep novels about human relationships and emotions. I must find out more and read them all!”
I initially imagined this author as someone possessing an exceptionally keen understanding of human nature, so acute and perceptive that he seemed compelled to write, as if burdened by his observations. So, I’ll admit I was a little disillusioned (and perhaps unfairly judgmental) when I discovered that his other books include titles like I, Lucifer and The Last Werewolf. I am not sure I will ever read these titles, but I found myself bewildered. I still can’t help but judge, since those titles strike me as commercial; as if, somehow, he’s selling out. I, Lucifer has had its rights purchased and a film was rumoured to be in development a few years ago, but there are not further details on it.
Goodreads informs me that he also writes under the pseudonym Saul Black and a quick search shows a few murder mysteries under the author’s name. Those are more likely titles I might try, if only just to confirm what I believe I saw in this author.
But if Love Remains is to be considered the equivalent of a one-hit wonder for books, I won’t complain; for the entire length of its 273 pages it showed me contemporary and almost anonymous greatness. The book has been out of print for a while, but I hope it finds its way back into the world.
Do you have any authors in mind who have written great literature and then sold out?
