“In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep you are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not."
-William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
What are you? The question seems to resonate in this novel by Damon Galgut, comprised of three different parts, that follows its protagonist (also Damon) on three journeys that end in varying degrees of catastrophe. The first part, "The Follower" sees a young Damon in Greece, traveling alone. He encounters Reiner, a beautiful, young German man who seems to instantly attract him. They meet on a solitary road, and later when Reiner's departure is delayed (ostensibly so that he may spend more time with Damon) they meet again at the same hostel.
Their attraction is never acted upon, and later they stay in touch and eventually plan to go on a walking tour of Damon's native South Africa. The trip ends disastrously, with Reiner taking ever more advantage of Damon. Their sexual energy dissolves into a furious power struggle in which neither is ever the clear victor. Damon is ultimately disgusted by the man who once intrigued and aroused him. What is obvious above all is that Damon is not the follower he sets out to be.
The second part, "The Lover," and the final part "The Guardian," end in more heartbreaking ways. Damon's efforts are foiled in each attempt to become the character he so strongly believes that he needs to be. Each role is framed by a new journey. Damon travels to Europe, and later to India, and these adventures seem to call forth stories we have all heard before. Stories of journeys to far-off lands where self discovery is made easy by the alien landscapes and cultures confronted. Not so for In a Strange Room.
The novel plays with time and perspective in a way that I found perplexing at first, often switching between the first person and third multiple times in the same paragraph. I didn't initially understand why this was necessary, but I quickly realized that this is the great trick of memory. The me that was 10 years ago is not the me that I am now. My thoughts were echoed by Galgut shortly after I reached this conclusion: "looking back... through time, I remember him remembering, and I am more present in the scene than he was. But memory has its own distances, in part he is me entirely, in part he is a stranger I am watching."
I didn't love this book, but I thoroughly enjoyed the journey it took me on. I think it's hard to love something so raw; the story never really reaches a satisfying conclusion. This is a picture of life with all its flaws at the forefront, and the individual (any individual, it seems to me), is a failed hero in this telling. It made me think of the roles I play in my own life - those I seek out and those that I truly embody on a more daily basis. How many of us are successful in our attempt to be the person we want to be? What experiences do we have to endure to realize what we're truly capable of? The pursuit of these answers may take a lifetime, but they are certainly well worth the effort if they illuminate even a tiny portion of our place in the world.
Their attraction is never acted upon, and later they stay in touch and eventually plan to go on a walking tour of Damon's native South Africa. The trip ends disastrously, with Reiner taking ever more advantage of Damon. Their sexual energy dissolves into a furious power struggle in which neither is ever the clear victor. Damon is ultimately disgusted by the man who once intrigued and aroused him. What is obvious above all is that Damon is not the follower he sets out to be.
The second part, "The Lover," and the final part "The Guardian," end in more heartbreaking ways. Damon's efforts are foiled in each attempt to become the character he so strongly believes that he needs to be. Each role is framed by a new journey. Damon travels to Europe, and later to India, and these adventures seem to call forth stories we have all heard before. Stories of journeys to far-off lands where self discovery is made easy by the alien landscapes and cultures confronted. Not so for In a Strange Room.
The novel plays with time and perspective in a way that I found perplexing at first, often switching between the first person and third multiple times in the same paragraph. I didn't initially understand why this was necessary, but I quickly realized that this is the great trick of memory. The me that was 10 years ago is not the me that I am now. My thoughts were echoed by Galgut shortly after I reached this conclusion: "looking back... through time, I remember him remembering, and I am more present in the scene than he was. But memory has its own distances, in part he is me entirely, in part he is a stranger I am watching."
I didn't love this book, but I thoroughly enjoyed the journey it took me on. I think it's hard to love something so raw; the story never really reaches a satisfying conclusion. This is a picture of life with all its flaws at the forefront, and the individual (any individual, it seems to me), is a failed hero in this telling. It made me think of the roles I play in my own life - those I seek out and those that I truly embody on a more daily basis. How many of us are successful in our attempt to be the person we want to be? What experiences do we have to endure to realize what we're truly capable of? The pursuit of these answers may take a lifetime, but they are certainly well worth the effort if they illuminate even a tiny portion of our place in the world.
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