Right from the first few pages I knew that writing a review of Lost In Infinity was going to be tough because, in my opinion, it’s a book built on contradictions. This is a very strong element of this extraordinary piece of literature, but it’s also a headache for any reviewer—you really need to focus to get the message Travis put into this novel for you.
What do I mean by contradictions? Let’s start with the book’s very foundation: Travis. On the one hand this is a very personal book—it’s Travis’s own diary, with details about his insomnia and his fear of infinity, while on the other hand the author bio says it’s a work of fiction. The construction of the novel suggests that it’s a memoir, but maybe it’s not—I had the feeling that parts of Travis’s life that he didn’t want to talk about were absent. Lost In Infinity doesn’t give a clear answer as to what’s actually true about Travis—the name of both the author and the main character—and what’s an artistic creation. There’s a huge gray area that could be real or fictional, which makes the novel disorienting.
The second clash between extremes concerns the “real-unreal” axis. Lost In Infinity never answers the question of whether an event is something real or something produced by Travis’ mind. Moreover, some fragments of the book repeat, creating a literary déjà vu, making the reader think wait, I’ve read that before, but in different contexts, so that in the end you really have no idea if you yourself made up some sections. Did that already happen, or am I being reminded of another book?
And finally there’s contradiction number three: Travis, Dr. Jekyll, and Mr. Hyde. One moment it’s very serious, and a few paragraphs later it’s funny. Travis has serious mental health problems, but is still successful. He’s very intelligent, but seems not to realize how huge his potential is. He’s afraid of his nighttime companion, The Shadow Man, but seeks out his advice. He’s very sensitive, but also egoistic and self-centered. One moment you love him and feel pity for him, while a few pages later you really hate his attitude.
Despite the fact that Travis can be pretty annoying, he’s a good storyteller. Once you begin reading Lost In Infinity, you really are lost to the world—you’re going to read it until you reach the end. He tells his story, from childhood, through adolescence and adult life, including encounters with his psychiatrists, doctors, family, and friends. He brings the reader inside his (and his relatives’) struggles with insomnia, phobias, compulsive disorders, and apeirophobia. My favorite genre—something I explore as an author and like to write—is the psychological thriller, so the opportunity to get inside a troubled mind this deeply was something I was looking for. But, as I said, this is not a walk in the park—more like a sprint through a battlefield. But on this battlefield, if you’re careful and alert, you’ll find answers and information you’ve been looking for.
As I read, I took photos of some of the most interesting passages—I do this all the time so that I can keep fragments of texts that have touched me close at hand. Here is my favorite: “My theory has always been that when the soul is able to open and splinter itself, throwing the pieces into the world for everyone to be affected, the creator is left broken”. As an artist I’ve been trying to formulate this very idea, and finally got some assistance from Travis. But I want to add something to this rather sad statement: being broken is also what I am looking for. It’s okay to be broken.
Did I get a headache writing this review? Maybe a small one. But it’s okay to have a headache—the point of Lost In Infinity is to move you, and it moved me. I’m touched—I’m still thinking about Travis. And I’ll definitely return to this novel, again and again—deja vu.