I appreciate this book more for its formal structure than for its subject matter. That does not mean to say that the book is thematically uninspiring, but that the design of the book and the narrative (or lack thereof) is marked by points of innovation.
First, the introduction from the author encourages the reader to engage the book in multiple ways, such as reading it, teaching it to someone else, sending it to a friend, or throwing it at your dog. I actually received this book from a friend who knows I collect books by the pound, so we both met the understanding that the book would most likely stop here. (At least until I find somebody worthy…who knows how long my friend had it before me.) Whatever you choose to do with the book, Andreas wants you to recognize it as more than a story or a collection of short stories. It is a bound block of paper, an object with mass in this universe. It could be a shim, a fire starter, a conversation starter, a weapon---its potential is only limited by the shortcomings of humanity.
Second, the stories are hardly a page, only fifteen to fifty words each. Most of these stories are accompanied with a drawing and another smaller story within the drawing, and it is these small bits of fiction which really interest me. I have noticed a trend in the past five to seven years (today being May 31 2017), a trend characterized by so-called ‘poets’ avoiding the demands of creating a sonnet or any sort of organized and extended verse. Instead, the ‘new poet’ writes a short phrase or sentence then leaves it to the reader to believe that these scant few words somehow carry a magnitude of knowledge incomprehensible to mere mortals. The stories of Brian Andreas do not follow this trend. They do not force themselves upon you. You can read the stories and find that five or six bring you great truth while the rest feel like filler only to read the book a second time and discover that some stories have lost their gravity while others are only just now open to you.
Setting aside my admiration for the format of Mostly True, I can honestly say that this book stopped me on more than one occasion and begged me to sit and ponder. Like I said before, some stories just did not do it for me, but a handful of them made me question my understanding of reality. Presence of Mind, for example, was fun to explore: the narrator is certain that he does not lie in his dreams and therefore, if he speaks mostly from his dreams then his waking life will mostly proceed truthfully, I.e. in an honest manner. However, this argument only stands if ‘presence of mind’ is only ever active consciously. The narrator does not have the presence of mind to lie, but the dream world itself is beyond the realm of the present mind. I believe that the narrator’s presence of mind in the conscious world would not be strong enough to confirm that there is no dishonest presence of mind in the dream world. Furthermore, every aspect of waking reality in our current world was part of somebody’s dream, but the dreams of some are the nightmares of others, meaning the truths of some are the falsities of others. One religion says the others are wrong, and yet each religion is steadfast in its predictions concerning existence, so who could ever ultimately decide what is ‘wrong’ and what is ‘right’, what is a ‘dream’ and what is a ‘reality’? How could a liar know when he lies and when he tells the truth if he does not know himself to be a liar? If you make your actions true by default then there is no action which can be false unless you forgot to learn what false means in the first place.
Great book. Besides Presence of Mind, some favorite stories were Opera Man, Geographer, and Porcupine. Definite reread value.