There’s nothing more satisfying when you’re reading then the sudden clarity of a ‘that’s exactly what I think’ or ‘that’s exactly how I feel’ moment.
Seeing yourself in someone – or something – else is like a big breath of relief: suddenly, it all makes sense or answers the question that you hadn’t quite realised you were asking.
Some books do it through the characters and the events; others, Aesop-fable-like, through the story; and, some, just give it to you on a plate.
‘This book will save your life’ fits into the latter.
Literary classic it may not be (although it has achieved Richard and Judy recognition) but there are some great messages in amongst – or highlighted by – the froth, and a wad of turned-over-page quotations is always a good sign…
Like page 14 – “He’d so far removed himself from the world of dependencies and obligations, he wasn’t sure he still existed” – or page 107- “it’s delicate – this process of waking up, coming in from the cold – you can’t do it overnight” – and page 185 – “everything feels strange now, nothing fit. I’m not who I thought I was.”
Okay, so it’s not just the quotes that have kind of struck a chord: it’s the experience of stepping perilously close to the edge and being forced to have a look at your one-shot-at-life that is so resonant.
Richard Novak is about as dissimilar from me as you can get – but the experience and the thought processes are not that different.
‘This book will save your life’ is the story of a wealthy, divorced, American (Novak); who uses his money to fund a life which is wholly dependent from the rest of society – including his son.
With superfood meals on wheels, a personal trainer, and sufficient technology to run his life – and his business – from his LA mansion, Novak has little reason to engage with the rest of the world – until he believes that he is dying.
Taking a blunt look at his world – and his place in the world – encourages Novak to make a dramatic change of direction; resulting in the next 350 pages of madcap adventures and attempts to engage with the world.
Miss out the madcap adventures (I work on a budget); tone down the Malibu gloss (Hertfordshire, not LA); and, bang, that’s exactly the experience that I have been going through in my recovery.
Removed from the world? Yep – hiding behind an eating disorder, and excusing myself from all normal interaction; because, like Novak, I might get hurt.
Coming in from the cold? Definitely – although I didn’t realise quite how cold it was until I had the comparison on human warmth.
Not quite sure who I am? Well, as the novel concludes: “none of us are”. So, even if you can’t share the sudden realisation that you’ve been wasting your life on things that mean very little (money / food), it’s reassuring to know that we’re all a little bit lost –
And that someone (A.M.Homes) has written a book about it.
Tags: reading the world
