I’d registered the big splash Patricia Lockwood’s memoir Priestdaddy had made back in 2017 but hadn’t got around to reading it. She’s known for her presence on Twitter, something that had passed me by but it was the social media theme that made me put up my hand when her first novel, No One Is Talking About This, was pitched being addicted it to myself – only mildly, or at least that’s what I like to think – and fascinated by its effects. Lockwood’s novel follows a woman whose life is lived on what she calls the portal until, one day, she’s brought up short by a text from her mother.
Every day their attention must turn, like the shine on a school of fish, all at once, towards a new person to hate. Sometimes the subject was a war criminal, but other times it was someone who made a heinous substitute in guacamole
When our unnamed protagonist posts the question ‘Can a dog be twins?’ it goes viral. She finds herself travelling the world, invited to speak on platforms alongside other internet celebrities, opining on all sorts of things, her views gleaned from her constant scrolling. Now and again her husband pulls her out of the portal but without it she’s fretful. What will she miss? How will she know what to think? Might she commit some terrible faux pas and be condemned by the hive mind? Real life is a mere backdrop for the internet, rudely intruding now and again until, when she’s in Vienna at her latest speaking gig, a text pops up on her phone: ‘Something has gone wrong… …How soon can you get here ?’ What ensues is a small tragedy that opens our protagonist to love, empathy and the messy emotions of reality lived in the world rather than via a screen.
It was a mistake to believe that other people were not living as deeply as you were. Besides, you were not even living that deeply
Lockwood’s novel is a fragmented clickbait narrative that reminded me a little of Emma Unsworth’s Adults, one of last year’s favourites for me. Both very funny and alarmingly familiar at times, it explores a multitude of trivia rabbit holes, some hate-filled, in a way that those of us who’ve spent too much time on social media will find familiar. It’s not a novel for linear narrative afficionados – even when our protagonist is pulled out of the portal and faced with reality it remains episodic – but it mimics the fragmentation of the internet, and of our minds as a result, squirmingly accurately. Within a few pages I’d jotted down several quotable gems but gave up, fearing this review might turn into one long quote. Very much a novel for our times: sharp, savvy and, ultimately, sobering, I preferred it to last week’s similarly themed Fake Accounts.
Bloomsbury Circus: London 9781526629760 224 pages Hardback
I did wonder about these two books on similar themes being published at the same time: they will inevitably invite comparisons. And I don’t think I have the patience to read two on the same theme, so have to choose carefully.
If you want to read one of the two, Marina, I’d suggest this one. I admired Fake Accounts but it was both too dense and too long. The Lockwood is snappier.
I have a copy of this. It’s one that had passed me by. I’m not sure at the moment but will pick it up cautiously and see what I find in the first few pages.
It’s quite entertaining, Janet, not as cynical as Fake Accounts
That’s interesting, I refer to rabbit holes in my latest review, but in relation to books. A “fragmented clickbait narrative” sounds like a literary version of junkfood. I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet.
It may not suit you, Claire. It’s very smartly done and a useful reminder of how social media can shape us.
I prefer the sound of this one to Fake Accounts too. Hmm…
If it’s a toss up between the two, I’d recommend the Lockwood
From the non-blogger who follows blogs again! Boom, so it was the Lockwood to follow Fake Accounts. I suspect it will be as interesting for those of us who never spent much time on social media, as for those who have. In thanks, Jenny
You’re welcome, Jenny, and well done you in resisting the siren song of Twitter! Blogging has been my downfall in that respect.
A terrific review, I’m intrigued!
Thank you! Highly recommend this one. Much hyped but it lives up to that.
I much preferred this to Fake Accounts although I do wonder if the first half will put off non-Twitter using readers? I could have done with less of that, but thought the second half was beautifully written and very moving.
I hadn’t thought of that, Cathy. Somewhat revealing of how habituated I am to having Twitter in my life, sadly, but I agree about the second half. Much more empathetic and hopeful than Fake Accounts
Interesting. You’ve inspired me to give this a try – thank you! The Twitter mirror might make me squirm… 😉
It doesn’t let you off the hook of your own Twitter fixation if you have one!
I enjoy being active on social media so this one intrigues me. Will add it to my wish list.
Hope you enjoy it, Helen
This probably isn’t for me if I’m being honest; nevertheless, it’s useful to read your take on the book, particularly given the amount of buzz surrounding it. (Aptly enough, it seems to be all over my Twitter feed at the mo!)
Some of that may be me! I think the buzz for this one’s justified, not always the case.
Probably! Although I’ve seen others (e.g. Lucy Scholes) talking about it too…
I love your description of the book as “squirmingly” accurate… it sounds almost uncomfortable to read, to face up to how deep a hole social media can be. Great review.
Thank you! It did make me resolve, yet again, to spend less time on Twitter before I disappear into my own portal and never come out again.
This does sound like fun. But I suddenly realize that a book with a rainbow on its cover no longer holds the appeal for me that it once did, when I was a younger (more optimistic?) reader.
I think you might read it as ironic, although it’s not a jacket that strikes me as hugely useful in giving the reader much of an indication about the book.
This subject is so interesting. If I was a psychologist, the effects of social media would be my area of focus. Ha! I often feel sorry for my kids, who don’t know life without it.
Definitely an interesting – and sometimes alarming – area to study.