Darnielle’s narrator talks to the reader, or maybe himself. He is an adult man, talking mostly about the past, and the facts slowly come out. At first the details are very unclear, but it seems there was some kind of accident that led to him being socially rejected, unable to work with others. He explains the game that he created, an old fashioned kind that requires people to send in self-addressed stamped envelopes with their next move in the game. He has had a lot of time to think about the game, Trace Italian, and design many different moves. Then it turns out that he has been prosecuted, unsuccessfully, for his role in leading to grave harm happening to a couple of players. So the narrative energy comes from the details of the early accident, his relationship with his parents and his former friends, what happened to the people hurt playing his game, and what happened in the law suit. 

Sean the narrator could spell out the details quickly, but he drags it out, because it seems painful for him to talk about.  He often distracts himself with details, and he is busy learning how to live with his isolation and his past. Sean lives with enormous pain, but he has compassion and understanding. In the unabridged audiobook, Darnielle reads his own work, and he brings subdued warmth to his performance.  It is a book of imagination, getting into Sean’s head; a man whose life is utterly different from that of most, since he is so alone.  At the end, we get more of a clue about teenage desperation and the strange thinking that leads to self-harm, although it is still mysterious and upsetting.

© 2014 Christian Perring

Christian Perring, Professor of Philosophy, Dowling College, New York