Peter Pan complex, but with smart pants on.

Spanish edition.

Briefing for a Descent Into Hell (Instrucciones para un descenso al infierno) by Doris Lessing.

Uh, a tricky one. First of all, I was complaining bitterly at the first half and was suspecting some sort of later-everything-will-click-and-make-glorious-sense. And yeah, it does, but it may be my age, grumpiness or whatever and I am less patient with brilliant displays of ideas more concerned with the shiny sparks of the story.

It is brilliant and… it didn’t age well. I know some people will enjoy the first part of the book, always take opinions like a grain of salt, but for me it was tedious and uninvolving. You can catch glimpses of plot clues along the way and see the strings of another narrative underneath… if you haven’t plucked out your eyes of sheer tedium already.

The book and the second part in form, involve a troubled person who lost his memories, lands in a psychiatric hospital and the comings and goings of doctors, family, letters from friends, lovers and such, trying to untangle the murky mind of the man in question: Charles Watkins. He is tripping balls basically and uncooperative, understandably at first, and later revolutionary for the author, but childishly for me. It is in this moment where the parts everywhere (before, after, up and down) click into a shining big bang.

The time it was written was a period of overmedication of sparky new drugs (the predecessor of valium) and a blooming in Psychiatry, both met with heavy suspicion. Psychiatry is young and has had a very bumpy ride, I am all in to be critical of things and to never forget the nasty past, the issue is putting on firmly the tinfoil hat and scream lies! at every turn. Ok, I am going overboard, on hindsight is easy to see and it is understandable to be skeptic at the time, but I don’t think it works either. You see, in the afterword she talks about a person having a different perspective than normal, not some disorder and how a couple of psychologists couldn’t match a diagnosis of the character in the book as if Psychology was some sort of séance. That idea is fine and dandy, but I think it didn’t make sense.

The very unlikeable Watkins has another perspective (give and take transcendental and metaphysical layers) but in fact, he has made the most conventional choices in his life, over and over again. He goes to war and has that baggage, study the classics, becomes a teacher (nothing wrong with that) and a mild academic figure, dates his students (yikes!), marries a girl 15 years younger (not the norm, but very prevalent in the preferences of many), has 2 children, keeps having lovers out of his students and in general being an ass. Even when he is described as strange and peculiar, it exudes a lack of originality in his life choices. Nothing wrong again in having a conventional life, but I couldn’t find his peculiarity, even his nervous breakdown, it boils to a refusal to continue with his life as he made it, to become the old Watkins and the baggage of his life, instead, he roams the edge of feeling another person, not facing himself and becoming somehow a revolutionary figure for this. It came as juvenile (for me) the peculiarity that it never was an option to… change his life? Like… change is dull? It is dull and hard work, but the character uniqueness appears as a continuous avoidance of consequences and going with the flow, cynically accepting what it is given to him with any kind of consideration or gratitude, because… special.

Random mumbling.

The book also makes a climax point of giving him a choice to regain his memories and thus, becoming the old Watkins or remaining like that. One may ponder about accepting what society says you are, being awake or sleep at the constrains of reality, but… come on… he is the same ass either way? Again, a brilliant idea, like the old-school fights for your soul, this time, reality and mind, it just didn’t work for me.

I have in mind, that living a conventional life, doesn’t equate to not having a unique way to see things, but if you are making a point of it, it was left more as an intention than anything. I truly hope that having this characteristic in life doesn’t translate as only being a jerk.

And then...

Amazing idea that works in the mechanics of the book, but it tatters in the murk of life and time. I´ll go crawl to my cave now.