What does it mean to be human in the twenty- first century? How do we be real people in a world of online personas and “authentic” simulated experiences? In this innovative examination of our present reality, award- winning writer Laurence Scott charts the ways our traditional mental models of the world have started to fray.
Effortlessly applying philosophy to the quotidian, Scott “makes banal things shimmer with meaning” (Guardian). He ponders how ubiquitous cameras reframe our private lives (an event only exists once someone posts the video), how mysterious algorithms undermine our attempts at self- definition through their own data- driven portraits, and what happens in those moments when our illusions of reality are ruptured by incontrovertible facts (like the death of a parent or a bolt of lightning).
Virtuosic and intellectually delightful, Picnic Comma Lightning is an astounding account of how we have started to make sense of our strange new world.
The premise was that more detail results in more truth. (84) Since life can now be so readily turned into film, what will become of that which is left out? (98)
Fascinating findings to prompt renewed reflection, blending evolutionary psychology with political alarmism and shot through with a near-saccharine personal narrative... This one's ambitious but hard to pin down. The constellations of highly insular pop references and sizzling headlines gleaned from the time of publication mean it's doomed to a short shelf life from the get-go. And that's a shame because it's full of really compelling fare vis a vis the neurological underpinnings of stories and the place of storytelling in culture and the dual roles we all play now as smartphones make us cameramen and film stars in one.
3 stars. Read it right now, because this guy makes some excellent points but in 10 years you'll be like "Westworld? Who even watches that anymore?"
From BBC Radio 4 - Book of the Week: An innovative examination of the nature of reality in the 21st century by award-winning author Laurence Scott - part personal memoir, part philosophical exploration. Read by Stephen Mangan.
When he was in his early thirties, Laurence Scott's parents died soon after one another, and he found his whole world altered beyond recognition. He says, "Death runs like radioactive iodine through your sense of reality, allowing this reality to be looked at in high contrast, its structures glowing. It has a way of making things very true, but also, somehow, less real."
As he begins to navigate this new reality, he realises that in politics and public life, the nature of reality - what is true and what is fake - has become an urgent issue. Questions of how we experience the real world, how we access its truths, have become mainstream concerns. Today, in an age of online personas, alternative truths, constant surveillance and an increasingly hysterical news cycle, our realities are becoming more flimsy and more vulnerable than ever before.
In the first episode, Laurence Scott gives a vivid poetic description of the grief he experienced when his parents died, and explores recent discoveries in neuroscience, and the concept of augmented reality.
Laurence Scott is a writer, broadcaster, academic and a Senior Lecturer in English and Creative Writing at Arcadia in London. He is author of The Four-Dimensional Human: Ways of Being in the Digital World, which was shortlisted for the 2015 Samuel Johnson Prize, won the Royal Society of Literature Jerwood Prize, and was named the Sunday Times Thought Book of the Year. In 2011 he was named one of ten New Generation Thinkers by the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the BBC.
Read by Stephen Mangan Adapted by Elizabeth Burke Produced by Alexandra Quinn A Loftus production for BBC Radio 4.
This book is a linguistically brilliant exploration of what it means to experience reality in the 21 century. The passing of Scott's parents catalyzes his exploration into defining the post modern relationship between the physical and metaphysical realms as they relate to social [media] and political development. A very personal piece of work that maintains a jovial yet philosophical exploration of what it means to live today. One of my favorite books. The only reason I subtract a star is that often the language is wildly elevated, so keep that in mind because this is not a passive read. Love.
An utterly fabulous book that transcends genre. Scott gives a hypnotic, light-dappled account of the demise of truth and objectivity and the rise of subjectivity and storytelling, all informed by the death of his parents. Persuasive, beautiful, thrilling, moving, and mind-exploding. Science, psychology, philosophy, biography, pop culture studies: it’s all here. I loved it.
The description of this book caught my attention: "What does it mean to be human in the twenty- first century? How do we be real people in a world of online personas and 'authentic' simulated experiences?" I'm always game for an exploration on reality, perception, post-truth, and digital life. This would make a good companion essay collection to Jia Tolentino's "Trick Mirror." Although ... I'm not sure this is really supposed to be an essay collection, I think it's supposed to be more coherent than that? It's not quite, but that's OK. I really enjoy spending time in the head of creative, clever, insightful people like Laurence Scott. I should do it more often, I probably spend too much time reading fiction. Books like this make me stop and evaluate what's going on around me with a fresh perspective.
Scott starts with the story of how his parents impolitely died in quick succession, and rather young, leaving him with a yawning grief that opened up the usual questions about reality and meaning. He interweaves pop culture references delightfully with takes on epistemological philosophers from Plato to Hume to newer ones I haven't heard of. It's never too academic, he keeps it grounded. He wanders a bit from grief to questions of surveillance, big data, the political hit-job on reality from populist strongmen like Putin and Trump ... to how social media turns us into narcissists. He's interested in whether narrative takes precedent over "real" reality, and whether anything like a real reality can ever be perceived by animals such as us. If it's all just narrative, though, we're left in a postmodernist muck where everyone's story is equally valid. I'm not ok with that, and he doesn't seem ok with that, but he doesn't give an alternative.
Like a lot of smart professorial types, he is unwilling to SAY much; rather, he forms questions, lobs them at the reader, and leaves you to pick up the thread of his thoughts and go wherever you may. This is slightly unsatisfying, but he's such a beautiful writer that I was okay with it.
I listened mostly to the audiobook, which he narrates, and he's pleasant to listen to. But with intellectually-taxing nonfiction I probably ought to stick to reading the visual text: I can highlight and re-read, which I really need to do or too much escapes me.
A meandering exploration of the way we make meaning from our experience in the age of the internet. I would not have liked this book nearly so well without the anchoring story of Scott's parents dying, which provides motive and pathos for the intellectual odyssey ("Grief is surely an old-fashioned kind of augmented reality," he admits in the introduction). The prose is beautiful; Scott is especially gifted at succinctly describing ephemeral details that capture feelings particular to our moment, like this passage about selfies: "A typical selfie countenance carries a mix of innocence and cunning, as we try to catch ourselves unawares...they depict solitary moments besieged by the thought of an impending audience, in which we play both actor and spectator."
It can be difficult to trace Scott's line of thought from one passage to the next, but it isn't bothersome or confusing. You feel always that you are in capable hands, meandering with a purpose. At times the text circles back on itself or references an earlier detail at just the right moment, and its meaning becomes clear in retrospect (like grief perhaps?). Within a given passage, it's difficult to find short quotes because of this style; you don't come away so much thinking "What a beautiful sentence" as "Wow, those last two pages--how did he DO that?" I loved this book not only for its content per se but for how natural it feels to follow Scott on his own mental exploration with all its loops and curves.
There are some things in life that one loves, yet cannot fully describe why. That sums up my feelings for Picnic, Comma Lightning. This book covers so much ground that I wouldn't know where to begin if I were tasked with explaining what it's about. I know I'll re-read it again, and for so many reasons. It's beautifully written, and clearly comes from an emotional place for the author - it's authentic. I loved this book
I have just finished listening to a radio adaptation of this work, which is described as follows: 'An innovative examination of the nature of reality in the 21st century by award-winning author Laurence Scott - part personal memoir, part philosophical exploration. Read by Stephen Mangan.
When he was in his early 30s, Laurence Scott's parents died soon after one another, and he found his whole world altered beyond recognition. He says, "Death runs like radioactive iodine through your sense of reality, allowing this reality to be looked at in high contrast, its structures glowing. It has a way of making things very true, but also, somehow, less real."'
I found this account mesmerising, thought-provoking and moving. I wonder though whether it is more meaningful to readers/listeners who have suffered the death of a parent or close member of the family? Laurence Scott absolutely nails the way such loss affects - and continues to affect - one's life. Aside from the devastation which may be immediate or delayed, he describes how subtle changes occur and repeat, and moves into his theory of the altered perception of reality with fascinating candour.
I will probably purchase the book so that I can read the full version. An outstanding work, and I award a well-deserved five stars.
This is a case in which my star rating might be being skewed by the reader of this abridge-audio presentation, done in 5, 13-minute segments. Stephen Mangan did such a fantastic job! He read in a very subdued, mellow voice, which conveyed a sense of deep consideration, but also added emphasis where appropriate, which added humanity. I often have a hard time maintaining focus on non-fiction that requires deep consideration, but Mangan's reading allowed me to follow every thought. Consequently, I found the ideas and conclusions presented by the author Laurence Scott meaningful and pertinent, particularly to life today. His observations were dead on. The only problem with this is that he is SO timely with these observations, and the digital world is changing so rapidly, that this book could very well be obsolete in another year or two. For example, I believe Facebook has already amended its emoji options from what Scott discusses. Nonetheless, I think we'll all recognize ourselves in Scott's very personal musings.
"The way we currently talk about stories suggests that they don't just shape our realities, but that stories are our realities." page 8
This is my second book in my Norton summer reading. Scott argues that our experience of reality is heavily mediated by stories, data, our online presences, and, in his case, grief for his parents who have passed. His take is accessibly academic; he doesn't shy away from fully explaining what others may just gloss over. The title comes from a quote from Lolita, of which I am not a huge fan. I do appreciate his take on the current political landscape and how we do or do not know something to be "true". I wish he would have discussed grief a bit more, as he only touched on it sparingly but seems to have poignant things to say on the matter.
"To the two certainties of life -- death and taxes-- you can add data collection." [p.239] The death of the authors' parents contrasted to a version of reality filtered through stories, the Internet of Things, photographs, hidden "obscenities", metaphor, and emotional polling.
There’s a huge amount here, of ideas, perspectives, jolts of recognition of truths and slow burning themes of integration, isolation and confabulation. What is also worth noting is the author’s eloquence and turn of phrase. I think this is a book I need/want to return again to. I’m not sure the author is offering any solutions to our modern way of living, unless a wider and deeper understanding is itself a solution. There is a huge amount here and my small brain needs more time and space to encompass it all.
A dazzling meditation on the (dis)reality of being alive post-2016. Scott wields popular culture, technology, literature and philosophy to assess one of our shared existence's most basic questions: "Is this real?"
I know from the ‘The Four-Dimensional Human’ that Scott is an erudite thinker and writer. I can now confirm that he has a genre and a style; the human condition in the information age, the impact of technology on us simple story-telling, social, hunter-gatherers, the nature of memory, reality, life & death. Heady stuff! Picnic, Comma, Lightning is all that, and more. First a word of praise for the title, taken literally from a parenthetical comment by Humbert Humbert (Lolita) on the sudden death of his mother, vis-a-vis “(Picnic, lightning)” Despite (because of?) the richness of the text I’m left slightly dissatisfied, mostly because of my failure to draw together and remember all the threads and insights. Can I blame the author for this, i’m not sure I can? The writer produces the book and thereafter can’t control the words, the physical artefact, the readers reactions (if it’s read at all!). That’s one of Scott’s insights, I think, paraphrased of course! Read comma think comma repeat.
The author shares with you the kind of conversation no one else will have with you when you’ve lost someone. Most people want to sympathize and move on because they’re uncomfortable not really knowing what to say that would be meaningful, but Laurence Scott shares his peculiar intimate griefs upon losing his parents. He posits the question of what is real and unreal in light of tragic loss, but also in light of our modern digital submersion and social obsessions.
It can be a bit of a heavy read philosophically, intellectually - at least it was for me, but I think I’d like to give it another go, and ponder the questions he raises a bit more.
I wouldn’t say the book is meant to console you during bereavement, but to share intimately with someone else’s experience of such a trying and nebulous time was comforting for me.
When Laurence Scott was in his early 30s, both of his parents died unexpectedly. This experience slightly fractured Scott's sense of reality, showing him the way in which we constantly construct the "real world" we all take for granted. Scott uses this experience as a jumping off point for a series of interlinked essays on philosophy, cognitive science, literature, poetry, the internet, marketing, tech, etc. The memoir elements make this book standout from a legion of similar works of pop-philosophy and there are some great insights studded throughout. The book leans a little heavily on summary and citation, but when Scott lets go off his encyclopedic references and indulges his creative writing side, the work really soars.
I struggled to understand what he was on about a lot of the time, but I found it interesting enough to read it all. His style of writing and use of language are at times baffling, couple that with an abstract subject and you're in the realms of nonsense. He makes some very interesting observations, but then also ruins some quirky human habits by over analysing them. I kind of wanted to understand it more but theres no way I'd read it again to try.
While there's an awful lot in this book, I was most struck with Scott's reflections on the profound impact that digital life has had, and continues to have, in the context of people trying to find meaning in the world.
I should note that I enjoyed the conversational tone of the book, which never overwhelms you. Well worth a look.
"One large measure of freedom is the choices we have in our own unreality." A book of essays largely pondering about reality and how we might experience/shape/form it. By analyzing language & metaphor, social media, Internet of Things, actual literal things, and more, Scott does a deep-dive into those big questions all while mourning his parents' deaths.
I feel like I need some time to process this experience, as I've only just turned the last page, but what a beautiful and unexpectedly moving book. My copy is bristling with sticky notes and I have no doubt that it's a book I will re-read (an honour reserved for Paul Auster, Phillip K Dick and Ken Robinson). Just lovely
Interesting read. I'm not sure the personal revelations really added anything to the psychological and neurolical insights of how we really see and engage with so called reality, but it certainly didn't distract from them either. Worth a read.
A mixture of the authors own perspective and evidence based research. The book has afforded me and improved understanding of the relationship between society and consumerism using historical and modern theory. A great read.
At times, I thought this book was brilliant. Other times, it was a struggle to stay engaged. A good think-piece, I suppose. I don't even know how to categorize it. Philosophy? A long essay? Memoir? It touches on all of those. I admit, I picked it up because the title is a Nabokov reference.
Although i enjoyed the concepts discussed within the book, i found the language to be very dry and clunky. I've enjoyed podcasts and interviews with Laurence Scott but just couldn't become engaged with this book. Maybe in a slightly different reality i would have.
I struggled to keep an interest in this book. I am a scientist by trade so it wasn't that it was too difficult, it just didn't seem to flow with any story line or plan. Sorry, but not one for me.