This is a book which is, and actually deserves to be, a
great deal better than its delivery presents.
At its heart is profound social and psychological insight, both pre- and
post-COVID in context, and it is underpinned by a genuine warmth and, most of
all, touching, multi-layered poignancy. Its
problem is that it feels perhaps a little disjointed in nature and, even more
than that, and worse, as if it hasn’t really been given 100% of the attention
and polish that it absolutely deserves. The
author is tremendously good, his humour and bittersweet comic prose to an
exceptionally high standard, as is the book’s melodrama. It is also immensely clear that Metcalfe has
a good, detailed knowledge and understanding of the issues of mental health in
the social context, psychology as a subject and psychotherapy in practice – either
that or he is a deep-thinking, insightful observer of the human condition. The fact that there is little in the way of
story arc is not a problem, as this is not really the point; it is rather more
an allegorical, slice-of-life study, observational or perhaps even literary
fiction. Its problems are rather more in
its formatting and the condition of its proofing. I’m sorry to be blunt, but it is clear that
this book requires a good amount of work to really fulfil its literary potential. This is in fact a real shame, because it could
be – and should be – simply superb.
I really enjoyed its subject matter, its metaphorical allegory
and, most of it, its very subtle hints toward the complexity and virtues of its
protagonist. Bob is a troubled soul, a
tortured impressionist artist with a tremendously good heart. Unwittingly, he cannot stop himself trying to
compensate or help fix the problems of the needy all around him. He brings joy to the moment for many, yet
never takes a moment to consider this, as his own happiness continuously eludes
him. You genuinely empathize with Bob;
you want him to be happy, or at least content, and to stop beating himself up. You find yourself wanting to do the same for
him, when he finds himself compelled to attend a group CBT programme for varied
suicidal and depressed individuals. What
follows is an intimate look into his mind and his coping mechanisms, but rather
how he appears to those around him. I like
this book, and found myself genuinely with a surprising affection toward it and
its characters. The fact is, though, it
deserves more attention to detail, more polish, more reader-friendliness – with
all this, I think this book could really shine.