I Was Someone Dead

This story examines a man (but it could just as easily have been a woman) who constructs a controlled environment for his world. His name is Hieronymus. He literally moves to an island "with his fish and a dog and as many books as he could fit in the walls," an island with no other people. "A person could live decently with only books," he reasons to himself. When Hieronymus approached the edge of his world on the beach, an obscured and hard to describe "Thing" would consistently "arrive in a shriek of pain, linger for a handful of moments . . . then sink away," terrifying him regularly. The narrator asks, if The Thing only visits the man when he sleeps on the edge of his domain, and never when he sleeps in his bed in his home, why does he continue to sleep on the beach? Because it "brought him his greatest terror" and "his greatest peace." This book is about the struggle to overcome internal reasoning that leads to avoiding socialization. Hieronymus takes great pains to avoid interacting with other humans. He has all his supplies delivered to the far side of the island while he is asleep at night. One day his ordered crate of books arrives with something extra . . . And that is where the plot summary portion of this review ends, because it is a clever plot, and I don't care to spoil it for readers. This book is funny and smart. I laughed repeatedly, especially reading the Zen parable of Enyadatta. I enjoy stories of people overcoming personal hardships, and I like metaphors of slaying giants, but there was too little insight and wisdom into Hieronymus' final catharsis. It was a little too much, "just face it, beat it up, and keep on trying hard for one more day." Ironically, those ideas can be counter productive or insufficient to help many people who deal with these types of disabling social issues. While I learned things along the way and I recommend the book, I wanted more innovative & practical ideas and less cheerleading in the end. A close friend of mine asked me, "What is the book you were reading about?" I didn't want to be insensitive or miss the point of her question, so I didn't say, "It's probably about more things than I understand." Instead I paused to think up a considerate answer, "It's about a person who has lost connection." "Why did they do that?" she asked. Again, the book is very good and there are probably many answers to that question. But I sensed she wanted a brief answer, and not a long discussion about the many possible answers, so I chose, "Probably because they never were taught how to connect." "Does he ever connect?" she asked. This question was more than I could answer simply, so I finally yielded softly, "You would have to read the book to find out that answer." I didn't want to ruin the book for her, and to me, the answer is not clear for the following reasons: I tend to judge "coming of age" and "romance" stories not by whether or not the author tells us in the end either "he became m