Tournament of Books discussion

space to discuss 2022 TOB contender: No One is Talking About This by Patricia Lockwood

I read 5 pages before I quit. Was hoping to get further insight on this thread…

Mark wrote: "I read 5 pages before I quit. Was hoping to get further insight on this thread…"

Probably quiet here because it was discussed during Camp, although hopefully people reading it now will comment.

https://themorningnews.org/article/ca...

Elizabeth wrote: "Mark wrote: "I read 5 pages before I quit. Was hoping to get further insight on this thread…"

Probably quiet here because it was discussed during Camp, although hopefully people reading it now wil..."

I need to go back and read the summer camp commentary. I was expecting to DNF this, having no real social media presence, but I enjoyed it.

Mark - the book is going to take a turn in tone, but not in style. So if the form isn't doing it for you in those first couple pages, it's probably not the book for you. But if it is the tone that is the problem, well, that is important to the payoff in the second half.

I’m so glad people are commenting. I checked a few days ago and it was crickets. I was so confused as to what the heck was going on in the book. I ended up reading the first part as quickly as possible due to anxiety, annoyance, and frustration. I thought the second part was very compelling and beautifully written. Just very weird when you put the two parts together

I liked the first part much more than the second. I thought much of it was very clever and captured online social media whiplash perfectly. The second half I found mostly forgettable and I didn't really care.

I'm not thrilled to see this one making the shortlist since I feel like we discussed it enough in the summer. The first half went completely over my head since I'm not on Twitter, but like Gaby, I was brought into the story in the second half. Still, I don't think there's enough here to have another discussion, unless the judge can provide us with some type of provocative new take?

I just wrote my review of this book, so just copying and pasting it here. I'm really curious as to what others will say about this book!

The second half broke my heart in a million pieces, as a NICU mom. The first half I could have done without, to be honest. I don't use Twitter and I don't have a smart phone precisely for the reasons she writes about in the book. I feel like I could become internet poisoned pretty easily, with the way my brain works. So I've just avoided social media, other than Facebook for connecting with friends and family. It felt like the first half of the book was just moaning about how horrible Twitter is and what a waste of time, but it sort of felt like a waste of time to read that much about what a waste of time it is. The second half of the book though, oh my god, so achingly raw and very very true to my experience of almost losing my baby in the NICU and then facing special needs diagnoses. My heart broke into a million pieces reading Part Two.

In case anyone missed the reference during the summer, Patricia Lockwood has an hour-long lecture on "The Communal Mind" online that I found far more entertaining/compelling than her novel, but possesses similar themes. I recommend listening to even a little bit of it, because then you might read her book in the same wry tone, which can only help (not a fan, not a fan.)

https://www.lrb.co.uk/podcasts-and-vi...

Jenny (Reading Envy) wrote: "In case anyone missed the reference during the summer, Patricia Lockwood has an hour-long lecture on "The Communal Mind" online that I found far more entertaining/compelling than her novel, but pos..."

Thanks Jenny, this sounds much more appealing to me than the book :)

I didn’t care for this novel much when we read it last summer. I doubt I’ll reread it now. The two parts of the book don’t fit together very well, in my opinion. I certainly got more out of the second half, but I was already poisoned by the first, so the second half didn’t save the book for me. I finished this feeling glad that I don’t spend any time on Twitter. I know some people really respect how this novel captures the essence of the online mentality and then deconstructs that in the second half. I guess I can see that, but I still didn’t enjoy the reading experience.

This was an interesting book, but overhyped.

I guess I'm one of the few who really liked it? Granted, I am somewhat terminally online - although not as bad as the main character, who was very much a standin for Lockwood - so I got a bunch of the jokes, and the way she was talking about how it was messing with the way we think/speak felt pretty true. And then the second half... just absolutely devastating.

It's not my absolute favorite (Trees and Matrix are ahead of it for me) but it definitely hit hard when it hit. I can't blame people for not being in love with the first half, though.

Just read this over the weekend. Found the first half witty, but exhausting. It was like reading that bubble font they used in the sixties to advertise music gigs. Embarrassingly dated before the ink was dry.

The second half kinda redeemed it, but it failed the one test of novelhood in that it never managed to make the specific universal. It's autofiction to the max, but it serves the author, and perhaps her immediate family, much more than it serves the reader. That doesn't make it bad writing, but it does make it an unsuccessful novel, in my opinion.

See also The Lovely Bones, We Are Not Ourselves and Imagine Me Gone.

Daniel wrote: "Just read this over the weekend. Found the first half witty, but exhausting. It was like reading that bubble font they used in the sixties to advertise music gigs. Embarrassingly dated before the i..."

Thank you. You put into words why I couldn’t finish this.

"It serves the writer and her immediate family more than the reader" seems like a personal judgment rather than a broadly applicable criticism of the book.

I'd say that this captures a certain aspect of millennial culture more than the "gosh I'm bored, guess I'd better sleep with someone" Rooney books captured all of millennialdom. But if you're not in that Twitter/"portal" culture, I can see how it'd be offputting.

Kyle wrote: "... seems like a personal judgment rather than a broadly applicable criticism of the book. ..."

I took Daniel's meaning to be, in the context of the rest of what he said, that the book does not seem like a novel. I felt the same way.

To me, the first half was the author, using the character, making fun of her self for living as if the on-line world in and of itself actually was a "life." And to me, the second half was the author, using the character, exploring her feeling about a deeply real life event. I get that the first half of the book was necessary to allow the second half of the book's catharsis for the character. But to me, it did not hold together as a novel.

By the way, I do not normally presume that the character(s) in a novel are representations of the author, or the author's personal feelings or personal thoughts. I do so here because it is all over public media that this was the situation for this author of this book.

Kyle wrote: ""It serves the writer and her immediate family more than the reader" seems like a personal judgment rather than a broadly applicable criticism of the book.

My problem with books as author-catharsis, is that unless they manage to universalize the experience and allow the reader access, they are not doing their jobs properly. My judgment in this case is not on the personality or the skill of the writer, but explicitly on the failure of the book to tell an inclusive and relatable story.

It was a failure to you, perhaps.

Kyle wrote: "It was a failure to you, perhaps."

100%. All my opinions are my own. Other opinions are available.

Cheers.

Like you, Kyle, I also deeply loved this. COVID surges at the hospital have kept me from engaging in these convos as much as previous years. But this novel really does capture the permanently online existence that many many people identify with. It could be a peak inside a culture for some, but another part of culture will think this book feels very universal. I am not as online as I used to be (personal choice, kids, reading); but this did make me feel a bit nostalgic for it.

Phyllis wrote: "the book does not seem like a novel...."

Hmm, I think that's a pretty tough argument to make. A novel can be a lot of different things, and I don't think this is the most unusual in form. (Remember when authors spent a lot of energy rationalizing how the "story" became a manuscript? Nobody blinks at the idea of an omniscient narrator any more, or a first person narrator who isn't explicitly writing things down.)

I thought this book (whether you call it a novel or not) did exactly what it was supposed to do: the form and the style reflected the subject and the meaning.

Daniel wrote: "My problem with books as author-catharsis, is that unless they manage to universalize the experience and allow the reader access, they are not doing their jobs properly."

Yeah, we have to make our judgments based on what we know - but there is something at least a little ironic in this.

For the record, Lockwood universalized the experience enough to reach me, and I have nothing in common with her or the situation in the book.

I'm not saying this to argue that it was a good book (although I'm willing to), but only to say that you are making an awfully big claim (the author was unable to universalize the experience) based on ... well, one single, highly individual, entirely personal experience.

And a claim which is instantly called into question by my own highly individual, entirely personal experience of the book.

I'm also not arguing with your personal opinion of the book - it didn't reach you. That happens, and it's a completely fine claim to make about the book. But you don't think maybe you've overstepped the reach of your evidence when you flip that claim to make it about the author instead of you? I think that's the part that (in this case) doesn't stand up to scrutiny.

Finally, and perhaps parenthetically, I'm not sure exactly what you are looking for in a "universalized" story - I don't want to misunderstand your argument. But for me, a novel full of "universal generalities" is a lot less convincing, a lot less "relatable" (may the literary gods forgive me for using that awful word) than a story that is very particular, very individual. That's, after all, what I am interested in a novel: something that gets at the "universal" (if you must) through the specific. And what I'm not very interested in is whether the author has made enough of an effort to be inclusive or relatable. If I don't "relate" to the book, then I'm not the audience for it. And I don't exactly understand what the merit in "inclusive" is, either. I've never been on twitter, I don't have a facebook account. In that sense, this novel doesn't "include" my experience. But one of the great things about novels is seeing *other people's* experience.

I'm not saying there's no value in feeling seen in a book, of course but that's surely not the only value.

Tim wrote: "Phyllis wrote: "the book does not seem like a novel...." Hmm, I think that's a pretty tough argument to make. A novel can be a lot of different things, ..."

I agree, and I spoke overly broadly. As you say, "the form and the style reflected the subject and the meaning." As I think more on it, my problem with the book is about me the reader. I just don't enjoy "autofiction" (or whatever we are calling it today) as a method for novels, and I lack appreciation for the type of life described in part I of the novel. I found myself unable to empathize, and I think that made me uncomfortable with myself because I rarely meet a character, no matter how dislikable, with whom I can't empathize.

Phyllis wrote: "I lack appreciation for the type of life described in part I of the novel. I found myself unable to empathize, and I think that made me uncomfortable with myself because I rarely meet a character, no matter how dislikable, with whom I can't empathize.”

Aw, don’t let it make you uncomfortable. Studies have shown that a story’s “transportation” effect on a reader has a high effect on the reader’s story-induced empathy, regardless of their overall trait empathy (which is itself increased through reading fiction overall). So no matter how empathetic a reader, a story’s ability to transport them (vividly imagining the scenes, feelings, etc.) can result in a high or low empathetic reaction to that story…. perfectly normal.

I feel like this novel is a stark illustration of this. For readers for whom the novel had a low transportive effect - they couldn’t do anything with the “portal” section for instance - their empathy remains more generally unengaged on average, however empathetic they normally are. While for readers who experienced a higher transportive effect (me for instance) our empathy is more strongly engaged. But you could very well be a more empathetic person than me anyway.

Lee wrote: "Aw, don’t let it make you uncomfortable...."

Thank you so much, Lee, for that intriguing information. It truly does make me feel a little better (or perhaps less badly) about myself as a reader and as a human being, based on my reaction to this book.

Phyllis wrote: "I just don't enjoy "autofiction" (or whatever we are calling it today) as a method for novels..."

Unless someone does something to invite it, I will avoid jumping up on my soap box and reminding everyone that the only answer to an aggressive prosecution of "cultural appropriation" is autofiction.

But ... look, the problem could still be with the book.

The challenge (and what, for me, makes this whole endeavor so valuable) is disentangling the personal, and trying to understand how literature works.

Any individual's appreciation of a book is the interaction of what they bring to the reading with what the author has put into the text. So, sure, half the response is about how you or I as the reader came prepared to the text. But the other half of the story is about the author's craft.

Trying to pull those things apart is not easy, but I think in the end, it makes better readers of us if we try.

Here (with a rambling preface) is my inadequate attempt at a defense of Lockwood, which I should probably be saving for the Tournament proper (I'll try unsuccessfully to keep it brief):

I had a new reading strategy this year for the Tourney - when the long list came out, I started reading the books I was most certain I would like first. That way, if they didn't make the list, I wouldn't feel like I had wasted my time. But when the short list came out, I started reading the books I was most certain I would not like, because I wouldn't be rushed (if I were wrong) and I could DNF them and move on quickly (if I were right). I put Lockwood in the "certain to DNF" category.... So I came to the book prepared to dislike it, and, as I said, unfamiliar with almost all the memes. The worst audience for it, you would think.

But what I liked about it was that the style itself reflected the subject - the way social media fragments our attention and discourages a deeper engagement and feeds a peculiar sort of herd instinct and a detachment from the world it is supposed to be reporting on. Reading the first half, I really felt how the Portal was affecting the consciousness of the narrator. And that first half established a pattern of thought and in particular, a kind of superficiality, that made the second half feel more wrenching. But the second half is also carried off "portal" style - the narrator doesn't change that when she changes her concerns and engagement with the world. And that brings us back to the title: it's not that the "portal" prevents us from a deeper engagement, or from engaging on more important things. That fault lies in us, even if the "portal" is an enabler. We could be talking about more important things - we could be tweeting about them at a deeper level of engagement.

I think it takes the whole "kids these days" and "social media is ruining everything" - which are cheap and easy - and goes a step further with them to make us consider why we respond to them the way we do and to render it with a great deal of pathos.

Combine that story with that form, and that wrenching shift from the superficial, and we've really got something here.

Of course, it also has to resonate with the reader for any of that to matter. It did with me, so it's easy for me to spot what "works" about it. I don't think I could make a similar defense of, say, Rooney. So obviously this isn't as objective as I try to make it sound....

Tim wrote: "...my inadequate attempt at a defense of Lockwood... it's not that the "portal" prevents us from a deeper engagement, or from engaging on more important things. That fault lies in us, even if the "portal" is an enabler. We could be talking about more important things - we could be tweeting about them at a deeper level of engagement. ..."

This is the clearest explanation I've seen of why this book received acclamation from many. I had totally missed this take-away. I think I was overly focused on the character, so for me it felt like a shallow person suddenly discovering there was life outside of their own kiddie pool. I failed to then "universalize" (since we've all been using that word) the character's experience in order to understand the possibility that "online life" does not have to be shallow.

I still didn't enjoy this book and can't imagine to whom I would recommend it, but at least I better understand what it had to offer.

Wow, great discussion here! I’m really enjoying hearing the differing views. This discussion makes me appreciate the book a bit more (even though it’s still one of my least favorites in the TOB).

it seems like...
....
everyone is talking about this!

Tim wrote: "...the way social media fragments our attention and discourages a deeper engagement and feeds a peculiar sort of herd instinct and a detachment from the world it is supposed to be reporting on...."

I totally agree with Tim's take on this. I didn't particularly enjoy reading this book, because I didn't connect with it. But it was one of the more intriguing books I've read in a while because it made me question how our social interactions (including, but not limited to, our empathy for each other) are impacted by the means and form of those interactions. I'm not claiming social media is inherently bad or ruining the world, I'm simply saying the book raised questions I hadn't thought about.

Perhaps Lee's comments suggest that the form of expression impacted my ability to be transported by this book, and I'm suggesting that the form of a particular social media affects our (each individual differently) ability to be transported by whatever is on it.

What I would add to what Tim wrote is that I think the book also raised questions about how social media may impact not just how we relate to each other, but how we process our own experiences. If this book is "author-catharsis" as Kyle put it, then everyone using social media to tell their story is doing the same, albeit less expertly and with a smaller audience. Does tweeting about her experience rather than journaling or some other more traditional format, affect how Lockwood/the narrator processes her grief or even change her experience of it? I don't know, but I think the book raises the question and it's a good one.

One last defense of this book I didn't enjoy: I don't think it's yet been said that authors can write for whatever purpose they want. It's only their responsibility to universalize or try to draw everyone in or whatever if they choose that as a goal. Certainly there are books whose authors hope to reach a wide audience and don't succeed, but an author who chooses a narrower audience in order to achieve another purpose isn't failing at anything. For example, Rooney chooses to narrow her audience to Hollywood producers, and if I don't connect with her books, it doesn't make them failures any more than this one. (Sorry, couldn't resist poking the bear :) )

(NOTE: I guess most of my comment contains spoilers since the first half and second half of the books were so different and most of it talks about what happens in the second half.)

I am a loss mom but for better or worse I didn't get to meet my baby other than when she was inside me and when I delivered her still at full term. I did NOT know this book was about baby loss when I picked it up and I really wish it had some kind of content warning. Sometimes I like to read that kind of book but when I'm in the mood to- otherwise it is triggering and enacts PTSD reactions in me.

I guess they didn't want to spoil the reason her mom wanted her to come home so nothing was mentioned earlier on in the book and the blurb only alluded to a problem, nothing specific. But still I felt mad about that and maybe that clouds my perception. I did end up liking the book, and I liked the second half a lot more than the first.

The first half made me feel old and out of touch. I had no idea what a lot of what she said was supposed to relate to and I didn't think a lot of the "jokes" were funny. It might be because I listened to the audiobook so I didn't even understand at first that most of what I was reading were supposed to be tweets; I'm sure I would have understood it better in book form.

The second half made me realize that grief can be a lot of things, including, and sometimes, absurd. I could relate to having weird/funny thoughts in the middle of grieving. I could relate to thinking that nothing that I used to think was important was anymore. Or that stupid social media and everything else that everyone else thought was so important was anymore. I love the part where her husband, who seemed really cold and unfeeling and unempathetic to me- I didn't like him at all but I realize that sometimes men or other women not involved closely in a situation don't "get" these kinds of things- asked her why she's wasting so much time flying on rickety flights to Ohio to visit the baby (as if how she got there had anything to do with anything?!) and she said that the baby's minutes are different than her own and mean more since she had less of them so she wants to spend more of her minutes with her, and then says something like, "What was I even doing with my minutes before, anyway?"

Loss and grief really do give you a new perspective of what's important, and how silly and meaningless so many things in life really are. I enjoyed that aspect. I liked this book but didn't love it. I get that humor can be a way we deal with things and I appreciate and use dark humor myself but several times I thought she was too easily making light of things she herself seemed to have realized were important.

I don't know, this was definitely an odd book so I have mixed feelings about it but I didn't hate it (although if it was just the first half I definitely would have!) and didn't love it (although there were parts of the second half I did love... I cried a bit when she talked about realizing the baby would play games with them when it was almost too late to play them with her and in a couple other spots. I also laughed out loud a few times, and I appreciate any book that can make me laugh.

Anita, thanks for sharing your perspective on the book. Given your history, I think you have a very valuable perspective here. As I read this novel, I felt overly manipulated (in an emotional sense) by the second half. But perhaps that is only because the narrator was experiencing something so deeply painful for herself and her family that the story couldn’t help but feel the way it does on the page. As I think more about this book, I’m feeling less and less “manipulated” and more moved by the second half.

I just finished the book and am really appreciating the discussion here since it's making me respect the book more. Tim and Anita - thank you for your explanations - I had really struggled with what the point of the portal was in contrast to the serious parts of the book, but your explanations make total sense.

I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but at least I understand better what she was trying to do.

Anita wrote: "(NOTE: I guess most of my comment contains spoilers since the first half and second half of the books were so different and most of it talks about what happens in the second half.)

I am a loss mom..."


I have not lost a child, but I also would have appreciated a content warning for this one. I was caught by surprise by the weight of the second half. I gave this book 5 stars, because I did find it compelling, and the first half made me laugh out loud, and the ending made me cry, which I hate. I was extra emotional the day I read it, because my college daughter was home for just one day, leaving again that afternoon, and I was caught up in thinking how much I would miss her, and turning to a book to escape those feelings backfired big time, since it was THIS book.

In the author's note she says that this is based on her own life, her sister did have a baby with Proteus syndrome, and this was the only baby with that syndrome detected in utero.

You're welcome, ladies. I'm glad I could share my perspective.

I guess one thing I thought about while reading it that still kind of lingers is what the story would be like from the point of view of the sister (mother). It is clear the author loved and misses her niece and that the tragedy affected her but obviously not as much as the woman who carried and gave birth to the baby.

I think I found the narrator rather full of herself and egotistical in the first half so I almost wondered if she was kind of making the sister's tragedy too much about her. But then I think maybe I'm reading into it too much and perhaps personalizing it because of some things that happened in my own situation.

In any event, I'm glad she wrote about this and is bringing awareness to this issue although I'm not sure she's the best messenger, especially since so many people didn't understand what she was trying to convey and I can see why.

Anita wrote: "... I think I found the narrator rather full of herself and egotistical in the first half so I almost wondered if she was kind of making the sister's tragedy too much about her. ..."


Good point. I did wonder how her sister felt about this book.

Anita wrote: " I almost wondered if she was kind of making the sister's tragedy too much about her ..."

Of course she was, that's life in the Portal. We react to our feeds as if it is all of vital importance to us. We are individually, specifically, outraged by the outrageous. We must react (to the extent, at least, of virtue signalling - we don't have to actually do something) because we must reinforce and establish our Brand.

But the narrator does change: the mode of the telling doesn't change, but the narrator's understanding of what is important, and her ability to reach outside herself changes.

That's a good point, Tim, and very true. I guess I just thought the second half ALMOST redeemed the narrator for me because she was forced to be present in the real world and have empathy and authenticity and she didn't seem to be sharing the news with the whole world on social media, etc., but instead experiencing it privately and authentically, etc. B

ut then the nagging thought would step in and remind me that she did write this book about it and is centering it on herself and her own feelings when this is something that primarily happened to her sister. I get that all narrators center things on their own experience but because of the unique way that this book was written, with the author's note about how it's autobiographical and knowing that it is based largely on the author's real-life experience of going viral on social media, etc., I was extra critical.

And I guess, like you're saying, it just goes to show that the narrator is still the same person in the second half that she is in the first. The portal and everything everyone is talking about has lost its meaning to her and she is forced to focus on real life and something meaningful, but, she can't help but put things out into the world to be dissected and commented on, etc., even when it's her sister's story, and that part is deeply unsettling to me, knowing the real-life nature of this story.

And perhaps it was done on purpose; if I look at it through a generational lens or a "this current stage of the world" lens, I think of it as starting off with putting everything out there on social media and then it invading our private lives to the extent that we can't really have an actual authentic and private personal life; everything is offered up to the masses and everyone becomes tarnished by a fake or self-absorbed yet lacking-in-true-self veneer, so it gets even worse while seeming to get better. I'm sure I'm not explaining all my feelings the right way but they've been gnawing at me.

I guess that makes this a moving book even though I have some issues with it or maybe just some issues about what it says about society and how we're all a bunch of narcissists now or maybe always were but now we're more comfortable revealing that side of our humanity, or something.