One of the advantages of a National Library subscription is
that I get to read many books for free. But a persistent disadvantage is that
it seems to drive me to read fast—sometimes way too fast—just to stay within
the loan period. Especially since you don’t always get to extend the loan on a
book, and you can end up stuck on the waitlist for an indefinite amount of
time. This isn’t great for the reading experience. It doesn’t let you reflect
or even enjoy the book fully.
I read Gabrielle Zevin’s Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and
Tomorrow in under seven days because my ‘Skip the Line’ loan only allowed
me to keep the book for that long. The eBook, at about 400 pages, isn’t meant
to be a fast read. But the story was compelling and engaging enough that I
ended up finishing it. It also helped that I had two flights during that
period—nothing like the internet blackout on planes to force some quality
reading time. Frankly, that’s one of the best things about flights, and I hate
that some now offer Wi-Fi.
NOTE: Spoilers ahead.
The book is about gamers and game developers, which
connected well with me. It is also a book about friendship and love. But honestly, the main characters are hard to like.
They’re depressed, sometimes psychotic, and go through or inflict a fair bit of
mental torture.
Sam, one of the protagonists, has endured several emotional
traumas: his parents aren’t together, he witnesses a freak suicide at a young
age, and he’s in a horrific car accident that kills his mother and injures his
leg badly. Despite all this, he remains broadly positive—rightfully a little
reserved.
Sadie, on the other hand, has had less childhood trauma. She
comes from wealthy parents, has a sister who recovers from cancer, and turns
out to be brilliant—but also more bitter. The only truly likeable character is
Marx, a key player in their story. He’s almost tragically good-natured. But I
liked that. The idea that someone can be consistently cheerful—and that this
could be a sign of intelligence—really stayed with me.
I felt Sadie, the other main protagonist, goes through some
self-inflicted problems in life by getting into a torrid relationship with her
married gaming professor, Dov. She pays the price by being jilted and ‘used,’
and unfortunately takes it out on her best friend Sam and their co-workers.
Overall, the characters didn’t quite connect with me.
Especially with the mixed Japanese-Korean heritage of two of the leads, the
whole thing started to feel very Murakami-like. The emotional turmoil, the
torrid love affairs, the possessive pining—it was all very Murakami, just
without the Murakami authorship.
What made the book work for me was the gaming
industry storytelling, and the way computer games and their development shaped
an entire generational cohort. I really enjoyed that part.
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