Have you ever held a book in your hands and not known how to read it? I have and it was a completely new experience. S was written by Doug Dorst but it was conceived by J.J. Abrams (Lost, Fringe) and the author is often listed as Dorst or Abrams or both.
Brace yourself because it's about to become complicated. The book is called S and consists of a hardback book called Ship of Theseus by V.M. Straka. (Confused yet?) Inside this beautifully produced hardback edition of Ship of Theseus are margin notes between two people, Eric and Jen.
You can easily identify the contributors from their handwriting style, and the first margin notes in pencil belong to Eric, then Jen finds the book and begins to leave her notes. As the book continues, the colour of ink they use changes several times, indicating the point in time at which they left their comments, some of which are even on the same page. You can think of this as a long conversation between two people over time as they leave their comments inside the book in the library for the other person to pick up. You also need to suspend your disbelief that two students would continue their protracted conversation in this time consuming and convoluted fashion rather than moving to a texting platform.
The conversation discusses the book within a book Ship of Theseus and the author Straka in addition to their personal lives and are colour coded as follows:
- Eric's notes before meeting Jen are in pencil.
- Eric is then using black ink and Jen's replies are in blue ink.
- Eric than uses green ink and Jen uses orange.
- Eric changes to red and Jen uses purple ink.
- Finally, Eric and Jen both use black ink.
As if that wasn't enough, throughout the book are various inserts that further add to the story. They include items like postcards, letters, newspaper cuttings, photographs and even a napkin. When I bought the book it came in a lovely slip case and the items were evenly dispersed throughout the book. I tried to keep them from falling out when I started reading but it soon became apparent that was going to be impossible. I frustratingly considered making a list detailing the page number location for each item but thankfully a helpful reader had already done that. (Check out the Ship of Theseus Wiki where you can see each of the inserts and if you zoom in you can see the margin notes between Eric and Jen).
Oh, and did I mention there are also footnotes? THIS is why I had no idea where to start reading S. When considered as a whole, S is a genre busting and revolutionary interactive book and puzzle in one and it's been staring me down on my bookshelf for far too long.
I wondered if I should read Ship of Theseus first. Should I read the margin notes as I go, or read the colour coded conversations in chronological order? Should I look at the inserts at the relevant page or study them at the end?
I'm not kidding when I say that I had to turn to Dr Google and found that those who love this book recommend reading Ship of Theseus first, without marginalia or inserts. Some reviewers recommend reading S a total of 4-6 times in order to fully appreciate it, Ship of Theseus first, then again with the first coloured margin notes, then again with the following coloured marginalia and inserts and so on. Phew!
So it was with a great deal of trepidation that I began reading and what I discovered immediately is that my eyes naturally drifted to the comments from Eric and Jen in the margins. I couldn't help it! I also found myself reading the footnotes and their abstract nature and tiny font annoyed me.
The basic plot is that the protagonist has amnesia, and finds himself kidnapped and taken to a ship. Those familiar with the ancient Greek paradox that questions whether an object remains the same if all components of it are completely replaced over time will be nodding in recognition. If every part of a ship is removed and replaced is it still the same Ship of Theseus? And if a ship is constructed from the parts removed, is that also the Ship of Theseus? And if so, which is the true Ship of Theseus?
Our protagonist ends up on this ship that is constantly changing but I didn't find an answer to this thought experiment because the plot was too bizarre. On a quest from the beginning to find out who he is and where he's from, the protagonist struggles to survive and ends up fighting what he considers to be a just cause. And then at the end he decides he no longer cares who he was/is, ummm WTF?
There were some moments of good writing I enjoyed, like this character observation about a newly met companion:
"Osfour has kept up a steady patter of nonsense (bland and meandering stories about people S. does not know, complaints about his digestive health, and exegeses on the volatile price of a particular tea and the aphrodisiac qualities of a particular wine), the constancy of which S has come to find companionable." Page 231While all of this is happening, Eric and Jen are discussing the author V.M Straka and exploring a conspiracy theory as to the true identity of the reclusive left-wing writer.
"What does it all add up to, this farrago of images and words and voices and lives and nonsense and rants and fever-dreams and soliloquies and abject lies? What is he making, line by line, page by page?" Page 310This quote from the book pretty much sums up the entire reading experience for me. I love the detailed concept of a central story, the layered conversations between two readers in the margins along with the intriguing variety of inserts, however the plot was too fantastical and impenetrable for me to become invested.
I'm guessing the moral is to fight against evil wherever we find it, and even if we don't believe we can stop it, every individual should at least try. You could apply this universal message to politics, environment and conflict throughout the world, but once I realised I didn’t particularly enjoy the central story, I found I had very little interest in pursuing Eric and Jen’s conversations about the book or their interest in the author’s identity or associated conspiracy. Nor did I want to spend more valuable reading time exploring this another 3-4 times just in case I was missing a transformational reading experience.
The production value alone is worth buying this book and why it'll remain proudly on my bookshelves but ultimately I've decided not to continue the reading process.
Carpe Librum!
