Dying Inside

by Robert Silverberg

ISBN 9780575075252 moved to this edition.
David Selig was born with an awesome power -- the ability to look deep into the human heart, to probe the darkest truths hidden in the secret recesses of the soul. With reckless abandon, he used his talent in the pursuit of pleasure. Then, one day, his power began to die...

Universally acclaimed as Robert Silverberg's masterwork, Dying Inside is a vivid, harrowing portrait of a man who squandered a remarkable gift, of a superman who had to learn what it was to be human.

Genres: Science Fiction, Fiction, Fantasy, Speculative Fiction, Classics, Science Fiction Fantasy, Novels

199 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 1972

About the author

There are many authors in the database with this name.

Robert Silverberg is a highly celebrated American science fiction author and editor known for his prolific output and literary range. Over a career spanning decades, he has won multiple Hugo and Nebula Awards and was named a Grand Master by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America in 2004. Inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame in 1999, Silverberg is recognized for both his immense productivity and his contributions to the genre's evolution.
Born in Brooklyn, he began writing in his teens and won his first Hugo Award in 1956 as the best new writer. Throughout the 1950s, he produced vast amounts of fiction, often under pseudonyms, and was known for writing up to a million words a year. When the market declined, he diversified into other genres, including historical nonfiction and erotica.
Silverberg’s return to science fiction in the 1960s marked a shift toward deeper psychological and literary themes, contributing significantly to the New Wave movement. Acclaimed works from this period include Downward to the Earth, Dying Inside, Nightwings, and The World Inside. In the 1980s, he launched the Majipoor series with Lord Valentine’s Castle, creating one of the most imaginative planetary settings in science fiction.
Though he announced his retirement from writing in the mid-1970s, Silverberg returned with renewed vigor and continued to publish acclaimed fiction into the 1990s. He received further recognition with the Nebula-winning Sailing to Byzantium and the Hugo-winning Gilgamesh in the Outback.
Silverberg has also played a significant role as an editor and anthologist, shaping science fiction literature through both his own work and his influence on others. He lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife, author Karen Haber.

Reviews

[zuza_zaksiazkowane · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5

[Lyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Goodreads friend recently asked if Silverberg lacked the matinee firepower of Heinlein or Asimov because he had no masterwork, no centerpiece to which critics could point, no one work that served as an identity. Silverberg, Grandmaster though he is, lacks a Stranger in a Strange Land or Foundation or Dune.

I submit here, to the court of science fiction literature, that Dying Inside is such a work.

Dying Inside is Silverberg’s 1972 science fiction / fantasy classic about telepathy and so much more. Fundamentally, this is about communication and relationships, natural and artificial, and one man’s place in society. This could be seen as an allegory about community and how we can be defined both by what we show the world and also the deeper truths that can even be, and too often are, hidden from ourselves.

Though it lacks the overwhelming theme of gestalt, I could not help comparing Silverberg’s Dying Inside to Theodore Sturgeon’s More Than Human for its sense of alienation amidst a greater sense of lost connections, of being separated from mankind, and superhuman ability representing hyperbole of distinction.

Also, and in a weird, oblique way that is hard to accurately define, I thought of Philip K. Dick’s novel The Transmigration of Timothy Archer because of the themes of otherworldly isolation and an inability to connect with those around when one feels a greater sense of spiritual guilt and angst.

My work requires a great deal of reading, and rapacious reader that I am, I usually need better than a week to get through a book. I burned through this one, I almost literally could not put it down.

Selig’s denouement, his crushing catharsis and his repetition of “the silence” is akin to Conrad’s “the horror!” in his last words for the dying Kurtz.

Finally, as I turned the last page, when I said goodnight to this magnificent work, I heard the opening strains of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minort. I also thought of the end of A Clockwork Orange, not Kubrik’s end, but Burgess’ and of course, of course, Elliot’s description of how the world ends.

Locus magazine called Dying Inside one of the best science fiction novels of all time. Yes? Yes.

**** 2022 reread –

This really may be one of the best SF / Fantasy books of all time.

Robert Silverberg’s 1972 novel about telepathy and losing the gift is really more than just a SF book about a man who can read minds. In Silverberg’s able hands, this becomes a book about having a great gift, slowly losing the gift, about old age, maturity, relationships, family, voyeurism, paranoia and so much more. Since I read this the first time I have become a fan of Gene Wolfe and Wolfe’s multi-layered fecundity of prose is reminiscent of Silverberg’s ability here. Actually, if I think about it, a reader may also draw comparisons with Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’ work with magical realism and whereas Silverberg’s vision is dark and gloomy, the multi-faceted strata of allegory and metaphor is similar to Gabo.

This also reminded me of Rush’s 1982 song “Losing It” off their Signals album. Both works are about the indignity of losing a lifelong gift and coming to terms with life beyond that gift. I also thought about the 1974 Francis Ford Coppola film The Conversation staring Gene Hackman. Both works deal with privacy and surveillance and the moral and ethical ramifications of living in a society where ones most private moments can become on display, stolen from a person.

Telepathy as a form of sexual conquest, rape even, is also a theme here. Fans of Silverberg know that he also wrote erotic novels under a pseudonym and much of his writing displays a frank sexuality, here also. The protagonist, Selig, understands that his invasions of people’s minds is akin to a sexual assault and there are even incestuous undertones regarding using his gifts on his family.

Modern readers may pick up on racist and sexist tones from this 50 year old novel, but I don’t think it’s so bad that would turn anyone off.

Great, great book.

[mark monday · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dying Inside is a sterling example of 70s New Wave science fiction. it is about a telepath whose powers are fading. dude is a miserable, depressive asshole who whines endlessly about his life. the end.

wait a sec, maybe that sounds like a bad read to you? well my friend, let me tell you... throw that impression away! this is a marvelous book from beginning to end. it is thought-provoking, often delightful, often hard-edged, completely enjoyable. Silverberg is such a masterful writer and many times i had to stop and reread different passages to better enjoy the beauty of his prose and the intelligence of his ideas. that sharp wit! the story is never monotonous and always resonant. LOVED IT.

it is an episodic novel, moving freely from past to present and back again. we meet our not-so-loveable narrator David Selig, his child psychologist, his girlfriends, his sister and the rest of his family, and a fellow telepath. our loser-ish hero makes his marginal living ghost-writing papers for college students, so there are several anecdotes where we see inside a couple students' minds. our hero is an unrepentant jerkoff, so we also get to read his often excruciating views on women and blacks (his thoughts on black empowerment were particularly troubling). we are shown a couple of his essays, one on Kafka and the other on the Electra complex, and they are fairly interesting - as standalones and as commentary on the narrative itself. each chapter is its own separate, challenging, wonderful little experience. my favorite parts include: a dry and rather evil session with our child protagonist as he toys with an overly-literal child psychologist; an exceedingly creepy and effective 'bad trip' (i think we can safely assume that telepathy does not improve LSD); and best of all, a brilliant flashback to our lonely telepath's youth, as he relaxes in a field, moving through the perspectives of a bee, a fish, two kids getting laid in a forest, and a surprisingly spiritual old farmer.

of particular interest is the the novel's other telepath - the confident, capable, cheerfully guilt-free Nyquist. the chapters about the relationship between the two are particularly illuminating in illustrating how Selig's main problem is not so much his telepathy but his fear of openness, of genuine human connection. Selig's problems do not come from his gifts, but rather from his own neuroses. and so the narrative is basically an accounting of how Selig grows to understand his own issues and then tries to move past them.

in his many other fantasy & scifi novels, Silverberg has proven himself a visionary master of often hallucinatory prose. his ideas can be sublimely poetic, so ambiguous as to be almost intangible, so far-reaching that they can be a real challenge to digest. one of the really fun things about Dying Inside is seeing how Silverberg harnesses his talents for what is basically the prosaic, diary-like musings of a not-that-special guy with some very special powers. Dying Inside is bursting with creativity - as if the author is illustrating how stories can be told in ways that are new, fresh, effervescent. Selig is mordant, jumpy, neurotic and highly sexual, by turns cynical and empathetic, and... hilarious! his narration is often a real treat and the free-flowing, occasionally stream-of-conscious thoughts have a chatty, relaxed, loose-limbed kind of appeal that makes the novel smooth yet tangy going down. and it's not just the distinctive, nakedly honest narrative voice that makes this novel so appealing; many chapters practically overflow with playful, jazzy approaches to style and structure and there are plenty of sophisticated insights, delivered both broadly and in deadpan. Silverberg's generous imagination busts the seams of the narrative; the result is a refreshing tonic.

"Nyquist, pausing a moment to detect and isolate Selig's sense of uneasiness, mocked it gently... I think what really scares you is contact, any sort of contact. Right? Wrong, Selig said, but he had felt the point hit home. For five minutes more they monitored each other's minds..."

a version of this review is a part of a longer article on Robert Silverberg posted on Shelf Inflicted.

[Jeffrey Keeten · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The sensory shutdown is not always a willed event, naturally. It happens to us whether we like it or not. If we don't climb into the box ourselves, we'll get shoved in anyway. That's what I mean about entropy inevitably nailing us all in the long run. No matter how vital, how vigorous, how world-devouring we are, the inputs dwindle as time goes by. Sight, hearing, touch, smell-everything goes, as good old Will S. said, and we end up sans teeth, sans eyes, sans tastes, sans everything. Or, as the most clever man also put it, from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, and then from hour to hour we rot and rot, and thereby hangs a tale."

David Selig was born with telepathic abilities. As he ages he finds that as his hair goes, as his other senses dim in intensity, so goes his telepathic ability.



He has always hated being different, but when faced with the possibility of losing this ability, that has always made him feel abnormal, he panics. To me David is an early form of GOOGLE. He doesn't have to know anything, because he can simply extract the information he needs from the collected knowledge of other people (the internet). When he takes a test to become a stock broker he finds the answers in the minds of the people around him. He is a lonely man and yet never alone. His entertainment is the thoughts of the people around him.

"I find my own company wearisome when I descend into self-pity. To divert myself I try to touch the minds of the passers-by and learn what I can learn. Playing my old game, my only game. Selig the voyeur, the soul-vampire, ripping off the intimacies of innocent strangers to cheer his chilly heart."

David makes a living writing term papers for college students. He uses his ability to probe their minds for the proper vernacular in which the paper must be written to lend authenticity to the plagiarized finished product. He goes to a lot of work for $2.50 a page especially when he has a goldmine waiting to be exploited in his head. David, if he could get passed his own obsession with self-pity, and exploit his ability for financial gain at least one part of his life would be easier. He makes friends with a fellow telepathic named Nyquist who is much more at peace with his abilities and uses his ability to steal stock tips from brokers that can be sold to shady investors.

"The trouble with you, Selig, is that you're a deeply religious man who doesn't happen to believe in God." Nyquist was always saying things like that, and Selig never could be sure whether he meant them or was just playing verbal games. No matter how deeply Selig penetrated the other man's soul, he never could be sure of anything. Nyquist was too wily, too elusive."

It is easy for David to get laid, not only is the sexual revolution of the 1960s in full swing, but he knows what he needs to know to say the right things."I scored a cheap pickup in a manner I've always despised: I scanned the various single girls in the big restaurant, of whom there were numerous, looking for one who was lonely, thwarted, vulnerable, sexually permissive, and in generally urgent need of ego reinforcement. It's no trick getting laid if you have a sure way of knowing who is available, but there's not much sport in the chase."

The trick is maintaining relationships. His sister hates him. His ex-girlfriends despise him. His best friend Nyquist steals the one girl he feels he could love for the rest of his life, little knowing he was driving her insane.

There are a plethora of literary allusions through out the book. "November is the cruelest month, breeding onions out of a dead mind. I'm living an Eliot poem. I'm turning into words on a page."


Robert Silverberg

Silverberg has been a lifetime voracious reader and it shows.

He mentions poets:
Dante Alighieri, Charles Baudelaire, Robert Browning, Thomas Carew, Richard Crashaw, John Donne, T. S. Eliot, Allen Ginsberg, Johann Wolfgang Goethe, Homer, Rudyard Kipling, Comte de Lautréamont, Stéphane Mallarmé, Pindar, Ezra Pound, Arthur Rimbaud, Lord Tennyson, Thomas Traherne, Paul Verlaine, W. B. Yeats.

He mentions painters:
Hieronymus Bosch, Simone de Beauvoir, Søren Kierkegaard, Arthur Koestler, Laozi, Claude Lévi-Strauss, Karl Marx, Michel de Montaigne, Bertrand Russell, Henry David Thoreau, Arnold Toynbee

He mentions scientists:
Alfred Adler, William Bates, Edgar Cayce, Sigmund Freud, Josiah Willard Gibbs, Carl Jung, Timothy Leary, Wilhelm Reich, Joseph Banks Rhine, Immanuel Velikovsky, Norbert Wiener, Karl Zener

A book that had me speculating about what I would do with such an ability, time traveling me back to the days when I read comic books and dreamed about having abnormal abilities. David fought against his ability clear up until the first signs appeared that he may lose it, and then he fought like crazy to keep it. Some will find this book dated. It was published in 1972, but I found it to be a time capsule, a historical document of not only a place, but also where we were politically and socially. A quick read, and yet, profound with bottomless depth.

If anyone has recommendations as to other Robert Silverberg's I should read. Please share.


The First Edition I was fortunate to find.

[Apatt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Robert Silverberg is one of science fiction all time greats, there is no doubt about that in my mind. He belongs up there with Asimov, Clarke, Heinlein etc. If you have never heard of him it would be because he is the most criminally underrated sf authors ever. I have said virtually the same thing in my previous review of his book Nightwings, and I will probably be saying the same damn thing again next time I review one of his books simply because it bears repeating.

Among long time avid sf readers Silverberg is in fact quite well known and Dying Inside is often regarded as one of his very best books. I just reread it today for discussion at Reddit SF Book Club where it is the selected title for October 2012.

"He who peeps through a hole may see what will vex him."

This old proverb is quoted a couple of times in the book and sums up the basic plot about the life of David Selig, the protagonist of the book, quite well. David Selig is a telepath who is slowly losing his telepathic powers. He regards his telepathic gift/curse as a separate entity residing within himself, the gradual loss of this power is like a part of him is dying inside. Dying Inside puts the reader inside Selig's head much like his probing into other's people's mind. Silverberg puts in a lot of attention to details of a telepath's life, and reading this book is a visceral experience.

Art by Leo and Diane Dillon

I used to imagine having telepathic power is bound to be a lot of fun and come in very handy. This novel shows how it can lead to a very miserable existence depending on the personality and outlook of the person with the power. Selig feels guilty about using his power to spy on other people but is addicted to doing it.This results in a severely conflicted individual, and the deterioration of his power only compounds his misery. In contrast his friend Nyquist who has the same ability is well adjusted and is having a whale of a time using it. While the general tone of the book tend to be rather melancholy there are humorous comments and witticisms scattered trough out the book which saves it from being too leaden. Selig's attempt at jive style Greek tragedy is particularly hilarious.

What makes Silverberg special among sf authors is his prose style, it is eloquent and lyrical yet it is not like the style of other lyrical sf authors such as Ray Bradbury, Jack Vance or Gene Wolfe. Silverberg has his own unique voice which can veer from elegant to hip and sarcastic as the narrative demands. The novel has a non linear timeline but it is easy to follow even without any indication of the date at the beginning of each chapter due to the clarity of his narrative. Unlike Silverberg's other sf novels there is no mind blowing sci-fi technology in this book, no aliens, space travel, no world building to speak of etc. The setting is "contemporary America" in the 60s/70s and there is no climax in the conventional sense. I believe this book is essentially about how people relate to each other, especially those who are (or should be) near and dear to us. The end result is one of the most beautiful, exquisitely written sf novels I have ever read.

[Bradley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Strangely enough, I found this one a real treat to read. It might have something to do with the fact that I read A Time of Changes, The World Inside, and it all within the same day, somewhat in spirit of how damn quick Silverberg wrote these great classics. :)

And because I read them all back to back, I found that being this familiar with the artist's text made al three books flow like water, common themes kissing intimately and oh so sexually. Like connection. Basic human connection. The first novel revelled in the breaking down of the barriers of self. The second novel, for all it's permissive sex, alienated everyone from deep and meaningful interactions. And then, the the third, David Selig, a powerful telepath living in the Baby Boomer generation here on earth, even with the gift to break through, could never quite make the bridge of intimacy.

Is it a tragedy? Yes. He squanders his talents as a kid and loses his ability as he ages, getting more frantic with time, and yet it's still the question of intimacy that each little vignette keeps coming back to. The novel's scenes jump through time, circling and circling back to peck at this theme, diving deeper into the the problem of telepathy, of squandered gifts, and all the while, we as readers are treated to an honestly delightful and revealing look, so I assume, into Robert Silverberg, himself.

I say this because David Selig is absolutely rich with humanity, being funny, flawed, intensely sexual (I think there *might* be a theme here), unabashedly intellectual, lazy, drug exploratory, and an all-around *real* guy. He's just as fucked as the rest of us, and there's so many things that ground him in the text, so many stream of consciousness moments, and so many insightful reflections, that I couldn't help being utterly, confoundedly, impressed.

It'd be awesome even as a traditional fiction tale, utterly mainstream, but it just so happens to have telepathy. In today's market, this one would probably do very well and no one would blink twice. There's much worse blurring of the lines out there.

Yeah. I'm looking at you, David Mitchell.

For those of you looking for one of those true classics of the SF field, who want a taste without truly wanting to commit to a learning curve, you could do much worse than read this one. It might as well be a novel about a man's descent into sexual impotency, of the rage and fear and embarrassment and loss of connection and identity. It's just that clever, that deep, and that good.

Nominated for '73 Hugo, right on the heels of the other two novels, both of which were nominated for the '72 hugos, both in the same year. Does anyone think that Silverberg was out to prove something during this time frame? Hmmm? The fact that he managed to be so prolific and write such good stuff should be a testament of anyone's real talent, and my hat goes off to him! Bravo!

[Matt (Fully supports developing sentient AGI) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Telepathy. Another word in the vernacular for something which does not exist. The closest we come to telepathy is the act of reading something written by a talented, generous, vulnerable author. And Robert Silverberg scalpels open raw nerves for a glimpse of another in Dying Inside.

David Selig is a telepath, now in middle age, slowly losing his power to look into the minds of others. Superficially a book about aging, losing the unappreciated gifts of youth, with an emphasis on male vitality, the holy mojo, and how one reconciles internal change with the world and people outside our own mental universe. It's a buffet on the concept of self - Irrational, pure, contradictory, loving, hating, moody. It invites introspection about what David Selig would see if he probed deeply into your own flawed, human mind.

Wonderful prose and highly literate with a heavy dose of references which made me feel somewhat ill-equipped and under-read (but let's be more positive and call it aspirational).

[Stuart · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dying Inside is likely the most powerful SF tale of a telepath losing his powers that has ever been written, and is required reading for anyone wanting a taste of the best of New-Wave SF from the early 1970s (much better than Daniel Keyes' Flowers of Algernon, in my opionion). It is also extremely personal and autobiographical, since Silverberg’s prodigious output of the late 1960s was starting to slow down. Regardless of how far we should read into protagonist David Selig’s brilliant, lonely, frustrated, and troubled psyche, it is undeniable that Silverberg has presented one of the most unflinchingly honest portrayals of someone losing their creative powers.

I also loved the detailed depiction of the social and academic scene of New York in the 1960-70s, which must overlap with Silverberg’s real life to some extent. It’s amazing how much sex and mind-altering drugs people did during that period – was it really like that? Or perhaps nobody wants to own up to it? Either way, this book is easily one of the most impressive novels to come from Silverberg’s most creative phase, and well worth your time.

[Mª Carmen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Novela considerada la obra más emblemática de Silverberg. Es relectura, la leí por primera vez allá por mis años mozos. En aquel entonces no me entusiasmó y al ver que estaba en KU, decidí que era buen momento para releer. Lamentablemente, mis impresiones siguen siendo las mismas.

No discuto ni su calidad ni que esté bien escrito. Tampoco la originalidad del enfoque. Ahora bien, me han sobrado cosas (como lo relativo a los trabajos literarios y muchas de las introspecciones), y me han faltado más ritmo y más Ciencia Ficción. He pasado muy buenos ratos con otras novelas de Silverberg, pero esta en concreto no ha conseguido engancharme.

[Paul Bryant · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hi, my name is David – no, don’t tell me yours, I already know. Plus I know your wife’s and your kids, and your little cute dog’s and your girlfriend’s names. I can read minds you see. Don’t believe me? Well, how’s this – Sharon, that’s the missus, Holly, Troy and Danny, aww he’s so sweet, Wowser, and Jasmine. Heh… I can see what you see in her! So am I right my friend? That’s worth a drink don’t you think? Oh yeah, I been able to do this all my life. What’s that? Why aren’t I rich? Why am I in a crummy bar talking to the likes of you and wearing this raggedy shirt? Haha, yeah, you didn’t say that but you’re thinking it! I can read you like a book, an airport novel in your case. Well, it’s a good question. Met another guy once with the same mind reading power and he was living the high life. His name was Nyquist and he’d got some sweet little Wall Street tipster racket going on. He’d read some minds for the latest scoops on what was up and what was down and then he’d sell the info to the dealers who hadn’t heard it yet. I should have done something like that instead of turning into an insufferable self-loathing unemployed mope.

This one time, hey, I’m buying these, let me tell you, there was this hot girlfriend I had and I just couldn’t read her mind at all, complete blank. It was really bugging me. So I got her to go and see my pal Nyquist for an evening and then, hey buddy, this part is really cute, I hopped into Nyquist’s mind while he was reading my girlfriend’s mind and he showed me what she really thought of me! That was kind of mean because it turned out she thought I was a bitter loser. Huh. I really thought she liked me. We broke up after that.

*

Hey Joe, remember me? We met right here about six months ago. Right, the mind reading guy. Oh yeah, I can still do it. Well…. Just between me you and the gatepost, I think my power is declining, like one of those radios you have to whack to get it to work at all. Yeah, it’s sad. What’s that – what am I gonna do when I’m just a normal person without any superpowers? Good question, Joe. Good question.

[Stephen · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 to 5.0 stars. Robert Silverberg is one of those writers that has never disappointed me and Dying Inside is no exception. This is often considered Silverberg's best novel and, while not my personal favorite of his, it is easy to see why.

The story is told in the first person by a telepath, David Selig, who is slowly losing his ability to read minds. David, despite his ability to read minds, is almost completely isolated from the rest of society and is unable to form any close attachments. He is painfully lonely and yet unable (or unwilling) to reach out to anyone emotionally.

The writing is deeply emotional, incredibly intimate and no holds barred in its depiction of the David who is shown to be a very unlikeable character for much of the story. He is at times manipulative, exploitive, sexist, racist and unable to feel any empathy for anyone (this despite being able to KNOW what they are feeling). In spite of all of these considerable failings, Silverberg makes us FEEL for David and hope for him to be able to find happiness. This is the true genius of Silverberg. This is an incredible book about isolation and feelings of loneliness and one that will stay with you long after the book is over. HIGHEST POSSIBLE RECOMMENDATION!!!!

Nominee: Hugo Award for Best Science Fiction Novel
Nominee: Nebula Award for Best Science Fiction Novel
Nominee: Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel
Voted #33 on Locus "All Time Best" science fiction novels pre-1990.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Robert Silverberg's work is highly regarded in the SF-reading community. This book has been called his masterpiece, even though - aside from its study of mental telepathy - there is nothing in it that qualifies it as science fiction. I'd not read his work, so I read this.

About the book, Silverberg himself said it's "as mundane in texture as any novel I've written." He sells himself short with that; it's hardly mundane. If you embrace the book on its own terms, it's a fascinating read.

But what if you don't? I found it hard to, completely, even though I still found it compelling.

Silverberg's protagonist - David Selig - was born with the ability to read minds. Now in his 40s, Selig has spent his entire life being able to uncover human thought as if it were taking off its clothes to him; as if he were entering a room, seeing everything laid out before him. He wouldn't just read what was on the surface of the brain - what others were about to say or what they were generally thinking - but he could go deeper, drawing character traits that determined decisions and created a profile.

Selig's attitude about his ability is filtered through a personality that is half J.D. Salinger and half Philip Roth. He's clinically discontent.

Four decades of being intimidated by (often feeling guilty or angry about) his power, has caused Selig to become increasingly isolated. He's berated for that by Tom Nyquist - a fellow telepath who falls into his life:

"Isolated? You? You can get right inside people's heads. You can do something 99.999% of the human race can't do. They've got to struggle along using words, approximations, semaphore signals, and you go straight to the core of meaning. How can you pretend you're isolated?"

Nyquist hasn't let that happen to him. He has taken charge of his power in a way that catapults him up the social ladder. But he's not about to mentor Selig. Instead, he plays mind games with him - well, because he can:

"The real trouble with you, Selig, is that you're a deeply religious man who doesn't happen to believe in God."

Apparently that's his cagey way of saying 'God helps those who help themselves.'

Selig can't help himself. Fundamentally, he and Nyquist are jerks - but Nyquist hasn't let that stand in his way; he uses it to work the room that is his life. Selig would rather be anywhere but in that room. He just keeps finding new ways to mess things up - esp. with his adopted sister Judith and the few women he gets close to.

But what if he didn't keep messing up? What if he had found a way to conquer his fears?, his odd but overwhelming feeling of inadequacy?

I kept wanting Selig to be more like Nyquist, only not a jerk. I kept thinking that would have made the book a more interesting read. (Could it somehow make the people around Selig better?) What we get, though, is Selig facing the realization that he is losing his power. It becomes the equivalent of watching air being slowly let out of a balloon.

Of course, what I wanted was far from the theme that Silverberg lays out early on:

Do you remember '68 at all? That was the year we all woke up to the fact that the whole business was coming apart. I mean American society. That pervasive feeling of decay and imminent collapse, so familiar to us all - it really dates from '68, I think. When the world around us became a metaphor for the process of violent entropic increase that had been going on inside our souls - inside my soul, at any rate - for some time.

That's an immensely wise statement. ~because it's still true about our society today. (Entropy. It's a bitch.)

So maybe what I wanted from the book was more of a pipe dream. Maybe. Still... I enjoyed entertaining the thought of rising above.

[Ashley · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had a hard time deciding between one and two star rating for Dying Inside, as it was well written and the literary voice was engaging. But I found this to be vile. A sexist, racist, masturbatory exploration of a really cool concept. Dude took the laziest option and tried to be profound with it. Ick. Thanks a lot, TBR Jar! Anyway, as you can see, I ended up at 1.5 stars rounded up, because I am willing to extend some leeway for all the positive reviews, and because it was well written and not absolute garbage like I prefer my one-star reviews to be.

But this did not work for me.

The concept here is that there is man with godlike powers of telepathy, but he's just an ordinary man born with these powers for no apparent reason, and now in his middle age he feels himself losing them for good, hence the title of the book. There was a lot of opportunity here to explore what it means to connect to other human beings, and a bunch of other stuff, but all of that was subsumed under the fact that the protagonist is a an incredible asshole whose head we are forced to be in while he thinks his miserable racist, sexist, pretentious, often cruel, superior to everyone thoughts. I hated him after ten pages.

I just do not think it is interesting to explore the inside of a person like this. There doesn't seem to be any indication that it was the powers that made him this way, he just seems to naturally be terrible person (and a lot of the stuff that twigged me wouldn't have twigged contemporary male readers). Why not explore what these kind of powers do to a more average type of person?

I just did not care at all. It made me want to take the rest of Silverberg's books off my TBR if this is considered his "masterpiece". But I will give him one more shot, if for no other reason that this book came in a bind-up with four others.

[1.5 stars]

[Nate · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve passed up silverberg books in used bookstores for years because I’d never heard of him, now I wonder why. I’m not sure I’d consider this sci-fi, it seems to be about a guy having a mid life crisis, realizing he’s wasted so much time and squandered a gift, feeling disconnected and lost.
He’s got some good prose and throws in lots of literary quotes. It’s not Bradbury but we’ll done.
There’s some racial stuff in it that wouldn’t go over well in today’s world but doesn’t come from a hateful mindset. I’m definitely going to read some more from Silverberg in the future, he deserves to be remembered better.

[Craig · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dying Inside is a very good, very literary novel about aging. Many people say it's his best, though I prefer The Book of Skulls. It's couched as science fiction because it's about a man losing his telepathic ability and it's set in the near-future world of 1976, but you could lose the speculative trappings and still have the same essential story about a man trying to come to terms with becoming older. There are some very amusing bits, especially his discussions with his therapist, and there are some sexist and racist bits, which are probably pretty accurate depictions of the thoughts of an average man of that age and station in 1976. It's very good, very interesting, but probably not the kind of thing you'd ever want to re-read unless it was to study Silverberg's craftsmanship. Dying Inside was serialized in Galaxy magazine July-October of 1972, released in hardback by Scribner's later that year, and then in paperback by Ballantine (before it became Del Rey) the next year as part of a matched set of Silverberg titles that all had really ugly Philip Kirkland covers. It was on the final Hugo and Nebula awards ballots for best novel of the year, but lost to fan favorite The Gods Themselves by Isaac Asimov, who hadn't had a new sf novel out for many years. Silverberg's The Book of Skulls was also on the same ballots, and I suspect that split the votes.

[Bbrown · Rating 2 out of 5]

Works of science fiction, more so than in other literature genres, can succeed through the ideas presented instead of the way in which those ideas are presented. Many of the classic writers of the genre, including Asimov, Clarke, and Heinlein, became classic because of their ideas, even though they weren't impressive prose stylists. Thus, because of the relevance of ideas in the genre, the premise of a science fiction book can be of inflated importance. Sometimes a great premise alone can make for an excellent work of science fiction, even with writing that never rises above "functional." An example of this is Roadside Picnic by the Strugatsky brothers. Only rarely have I found that great writing elevated a mediocre premise. I put Never Let Me Go by Ishiguro into this category, and as such I'm not surprised that many genre fans don't love that book - I suspect that most fans of science fiction are more interested in the ideas presented, and Never Let Me Go only ever engages with its science fiction elements lightly. All of what I just wrote is buildup to me saying that Dying Inside's premise is not a great one. It could, however, have been a very good book despite this if Silverberg was able to imbue the story with poignance through his writing, but unfortunately Silverberg isn't the author for such a job.

David, the book's protagonist and narrator, is a past-his-prime New Yorker that has had the ability to read people's minds from the day he was born. Not just the surface level, either, but the depths of a person's soul is presented to David on a good day. The good days are getting rarer and rarer though. Despite having this power, or perhaps because of it (and it's really a bit of both), David has become a bitter man, unsuccessful, and unable to build lasting connections and relationships with other people. How will David handle gradually losing his powers, and how will he function without them? This is the premise of the book, which is further fleshed out by David recounting his life story, from his childhood through all the significant events that have happened to him in his life.

Here's what prevents Silverberg with doing anything impressive with this premise, in my opinion: he absolutely fails to give characters besides David any depth. Lacking any other characters with depth not only makes the book boring, it undercuts everything potentially interesting you could do with this premise, since what interest is there in mind reading when the only people to mind read are one-dimensional? Within the first five pages of the book David reads the mind of one of his many Puerto Rican neighbors and declares "she looks just like all the others who live in this project, and even her cerebral output is standard stuff, unindividuated, indistinguishable: vague thoughts of plantains and rice, this week’s lottery results, and tonight’s television highlights." Later on he meets a black college student who "wears his midnight mass of kinky hair in a vast aggressive Afro halo a foot in diameter or more, fastidiously trimmed. I would not have been surprised by scarified cheeks, a bone through the nostrils." The black student is a seething ball of rage against white people, David finds when he looks into the guy's soul. I'm not quoting these examples to show that Silverberg was racist, though it really was a surprise to see this stuff in a book published in 1972, it's to show that the other characters David interacts with are mere stereotypes, even the non-minorities. David looks into people's minds and finds the horny teenager that thinks only of sex, the farmer in harmony with the earth, the suave humanities professor that throws parties and tries to sleep with everything that moves, the kind and helpless wealthy widows, even the character that the book spends the most amount of time with, besides David, is the slutty sister that once hated her brother but is now trying to reconcile. She has more than one characteristic, to be sure, but that's not the same thing as depth. There are no characters besides David with depth. Thus, when David looks into another person's mind and soul, Silverberg never has him find anything interesting there.

This, of course, undercuts the importance the reader feels concerning David losing his power, since why should the reader care if all that David is losing is his ability to read very boring thoughts, but more importantly it prevents this story from saying anything interesting about relationships, communication, social interaction, or many other potentially fascinating topics that this premise could touch on. We're left with David's internal struggle concerning the loss of his powers as the main, and perhaps sole, topic explored fulsomely by the book. David worries, understandably, about losing a part of himself that he's had since birth, that he feels has defined his life, that is what he fears is his only connection to the rest of humanity. Thus, because it's the cornerstone of the book, Silverberg's has to make David's struggle poignant, affecting, or at the very least interesting in order to make this story worthwhile.

Unfortunately, David's struggle is not made profound by Silverberg's writing. The prose is fine, sometimes a bit heavy on the adjectives but not off-putting. It's not great though, with the high points being David describing aspects of living in New York and living through the history of New York and the USA during the fifties and sixties. Reading these segments I immediately knew that Silverberg had grown up in New York at the same time period since these observations were presented so much more smoothly and naturally than the rest of the book. Sure enough, Silverberg grew up in Brooklyn. On a related note, for a while I was struggling to understand why David worked ghostwriting papers for college students: it doesn't really take advantage of David's mind reading power as much as dozens of other jobs would, is he trying to get away from relying on his telepathy? But he does use his power to look at the minds of the students and glimpse their writing style, so it isn't a job completely divorced from his power either, and there would surely be many physical labor jobs if he wanted to stop using the power entirely. Then I kept reading and noticed the more detailed descriptions of Columbia compared to the descriptions of the rest of the setting: sure enough, Silverberg went to Columbia. David's job is a way for him to be on campus, a setting that Silverberg is familiar with and can write more easily and successfully. Who cares if it doesn't really make sense for the character.

Beyond the usually unimpressive descriptions, Silverberg is fond of having David drop literary references into the story, but with no deeper significance than surface level. David Selig quotes the witches from Macbeth to insultingly call his sister is a witch, not to compare her to the role of the witches in Macbeth or to suggest any parallel between David and Macbeth. Selig compares the meaningless sound he hears when his powers are weak to the overwhelming sound heard by Mrs. Moore in the caves in A Passage to India, but just so as to call it an overwhelming sound, not to suggest that it had the same psychologically unsettling effect and potentially mystical source as the caves in that work do. David writes a paper on Kafka, but his situation in many way seems diametrically opposed to Kafka’s protagonists: David’s powers allow him to cut through the “bureaucracy” of dealing with other people and get at the truth of what they are really thinking, in contrast to Kafka’s protagonists that are constantly at the mercy of that same bureaucracy. You can compare David’s situation to the inexplicable circumstances and inevitable failure that Kafka’s protagonists face, but even that I suspect was not an intentional parallel by Silverberg. In any event, the literary references add little to the book.

With the structure of the book, Silverberg experiments a bit, which adds a bit of interest (if for no other reason than variety), but the experimenting ends in failure just as often as it does in success. An early chapter is David's ghostwritten paper on Kafka, as mentioned above. It's a mediocre paper that says nothing interesting about Kafka, but that's intentional, as it's supposed to be a college student's B+ paper. Personally, however, I find that an author has made a mistake when they box themselves into having to write something mediocre: at best it’s a suboptimal route to take, at worst it’s a crutch because the author can’t actually write any better. By experimenting with structure Silverberg forced me to read an dull paper on Kafka, and I can't exactly thank him for that. Other experimental style chapters fare better, but none stand out as that impressive.

What is David's struggle supposed to represent? The most obvious parallel, mentioned explicitly in the story multiple times, is sexual impotence. There's clearly an element of that at play here, magnified by the fact that sex is a constant topic throughout the book. But it's suggested that the loss of telepathy isn't a direct comparison to sexual impotence, rather it's about loss of connection to others in general, and the way in which you overcome losing something that is part of how you define yourself. The ending suggests that after such a loss you may survive in body even though you've died in spirit, and while it's possible you'll regain some internal spark in the future, it's also very possible you won't. David's life without powers is certainly presented as a new chapter, but since he's dead inside it may not be a chapter worth reading. Does this conclusion, and the segments leading up to it, make David's struggle or its aftermath poignant, affecting, or at the very least interesting? No, no, and not that much.

So what are we left with? A premise that is at best mildly interesting on its own. Silverberg cuts out many of what I consider the most interesting topics to explore with this premise by not giving any other character besides the protagonist any depth. This also undercuts the sense of importance of the story's main subject. The writing does not elevate this subject either, with Silverberg seemingly having inserted some aspects of the story to make it easier for him to write, rather than because those aspects make sense. The literary references add nothing. The experiment with style was welcome, though there are as many misses as hits on that count. In the end, the central struggle just isn't that interesting, and that's really all this book has to offer. The book is somewhere in between two and three stars, and I feel like the right decision is to round down.

[Sandi]

I finished Dying Inside this morning and I'm still not sure what to say about it. Perhaps I should start by saying that I don't believe this is science fiction at all. I kept looking for the science part and it just wasn't there. I believe that it would have been classified as general fiction if it hadn't been written by a famous science fiction author.

I have to say that I have met few fictional characters that are more pathetic than David Selig. He's not pathetic because he's losing his telepathic powers, he's pathetic because he allows his mind-reading ability to paralyze him and keep him from living. Furthermore, people around him kind of sense when he's reading their minds and it makes them creeped out even though they can't explain why. He is unlovable because he loathes himself. He doesn't try to make anything of himself. It seems that he's only had one real job in his life. He sees losing his ability as losing something important. Somehow, I think the loss of his ability is the gain of his humanity.

I thought it was interesting the way Silverberg switched between first person narration and third person narration even though it was David Selig narrating the whole time. It makes it quite clear that David doesn't have a clear self-identity. Maybe that's his ultimate problem.

[Jon · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75 stars

I felt like the telepath, the mind-reader, the voyeur while reading this novel. Silverberg sucked me in to the mind of David Selig so completely that I had to force myself to take a break from the book after hours of voracious reading to come up for air and perspective. It appears to be the autobiography of a telepath, but reads like a confession of mind crimes, social ineptness and stunted maturity. He fears his gift is fading and dying, and he flops impotently against the impinging silence.

Silverberg succeeded in evoking many emotions from me with David Selig's monologue - frustration, depression, outrage, compassion.

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I started reading this novel. It is definitely not traditional science fiction, but it is very well written, keeping my attention, almost exclusively, the entire weekend.

And for once, I did not read the Foreward until I finished the book. It contained information that would have spoiled the experience of Dying Inside with David Selig.

[Nicky · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is the first book I've managed to sit down and read straight through in quite a while, so I have to acknowledge here the quality of it first: it is one of those books that reminds you that speculative fiction of all stripes can be just as reflective on the human condition as any navel-gazing literary fiction. The characters are for the most part not very likeable -- there's something despicable in all of them, and especially in the narrator, Selig. But there are some amazing bits too: Selig's moment of communion (and that's a very apt word to use) with a farmer, as a teenager, for example, where he feels another man's oneness with the world.

Selig is, of course, self-indulgent and, well, navel-gazing, but the central idea is interesting without having to involve spaceships exploding or government conspiracies. The only problem for me was that I vividly remember someone telling me they read it as a book-length allegory about male impotence, so there was that to stop me taking it seriously.

Silverberg is a fine writer, there are some amazing passages and the relationships between his characters are complex -- Judith is fascinating, at once transparent to Selig and therefore the read, yet I don't think we ever really get a read on her. The moment where she cries for her brother surprised me in its genuineness.

The whole portrayal of Judith's reaction to Selig's ability to read her mind rings very true. I have actually had people say they can read my mind, and it does leave you feeling unclean, as though you can never have privacy. I hope there are no telepaths, and I wouldn't want to be one either.

[Ira (SF Words of Wonder) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Check out my full, spoiler free, video review HERE. This is the story of David, who has one-way telepathic powers, he can read other people’s thoughts but can’t project his thoughts. As he ages, he notices his powers are diminishing. This is a hard book to talk about, on the surface it’s about this guy losing this ability but there is so much more to the novel. Being inside David’s head as well as the heads of the people he is mind reading gives the reader a unique perspective, it also sets up the themes of this book. The writing is amazing, Silverberg is a Grand Master of SF. There are many parts of this book that didn’t age too well, mostly having to do with sexism and racism. This is a great overall read and essential for any science fiction reader.

[Meseceva · Rating 4 out of 5]

Izvrsna psihološka studija rađanja čoveka iz natčoveka. Kako se osećamo i kroz kakve promene prolazimo kada nepovratno gubimo deo ličnosti koji je oduvek bio naš? Kako kroz novu prizmu doživljavamo okruženje, a kako ono nas u tom umiranju da bi se ponovo rodilo? Pisana u prvom licu, kroz epizode u sadašnjem vremenu i serije flešbekova, nemilosrdno iskreno, lišena patetike, a ipak duboko emotivna ispovest čoveka kome iščezava jedan specifičan dar postaje ogledalo za milion malih smrti koje doživimo dok živimo.

[Mirnes Alispahić · Rating 5 out of 5]

Comic books tell us that superheroes are people with supernatural powers (mostly, unless they’re not super rich) who like to jump around in tight spandex suits and fight each other. David Selig has a superpower, but he doesn't wear a costume nor does he use his power for the greater good. In fact, for a long time, David thought he was the only one who possessed a gift and he only uses power to his benefit, even that he's not doing as he could. He was born with the ability to read other people's minds, but there is only one problem. His power is fading.
It would be easy to succumb to what is written on the cover that this is the best sci-fi novel of all times and fall into the trap, to skip it if you are not a fan of science fiction and thus deprive yourself of reading one of the best novels not of SF but in general. Silverberg is known as a genre writer, but that doesn't stop him from showing us in "Dying Inside" how good a writer he is, which he had already done a year earlier in The Book of Skulls.
Using the story of a telepath losing his power, Silverberg takes us retrospectively through Selig's life, very likely based on Silverberg's memories and feelings because the novel is too intimate, or he is so talented that he manages to sell us a compelling lie about David Selig. Although, Silverberg did take a writing break shortly after publishing this novel, so it is very likely that writing "Dying Inside" was therapy for what he felt at the time. Soul searching, because as Selig lost the power to read minds, so Silverberg faced a creativity crisis.
Younger readers (probably some older ones too) will frown over Silverberg's descriptions of women or his imitation of an African-American character, but in fact, it is all part of Selig's character and if it were written differently his character would not have been convincing because these thoughts are in accordance with the time when the novel was created.
Selig dies from within, his self-imposed alienation from society stops because he no longer feels different from others but becomes one of them. He faces his long-repressed feelings of incestuous love for his younger sister and thinks about the woman he loved, the only person whose thoughts he couldn't read and that scared him, and the one he scared so much she never wants to see him again. In a way, the old Selig dies to make room for the new.
"Dying inside" is primarily a story of alienation, which even Silverberg explains to us through one of the essays that David writes as an assignment while listing Kafka and his works. Another one of, to put it bluntly, genre novels, which show how much people who avoid science fiction lose by skipping certain works.

[Stefan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dying Inside by Robert Silverberg is the painfully intimate portrait of David Selig, a man who has been blessed (or cursed, as he might say) with the gift of telepathy. He has learned to live with the ability, but now finds that his amazing power is slowly disappearing, leaving him ordinary again. Throughout the novel, Selig is literate, insightful and self-deprecating as he mercilessly dissects his own life. I found him less than likable, but completely fascinating. He leads an almost meaningless life, has no friendships and hardly any real relationships, and despite being worldly and erudite, he is also depressingly small-minded.

Getting such an intimate view into Selig's mind is at times a painful experience: despite his pettiness, sexism and occasional racism, you can't help but feel for him. The bitter irony of Dying Inside is that this man, who is able to read people's thoughts, is so completely self-centered and small-minded that he is incapable of having a meaningful relationship with anyone.

Dying Inside is beautifully written, using a series of flashbacks to tell Selig's story as he thinks back on his life. Robert Silverberg’s prose is gorgeous, perfectly reflecting his character’s thoughts and full of often inwardly directed irony. After reading this book, you will feel like you know David Selig. You might not like him very much, but he will be real to you.

Dying Inside is an excellent novel, recommended both to science fiction fans and to people who usually don't read the genre. This is one of those books you're almost guaranteed to end up thinking about for a long time after turning the final page.

(This review was also published on 11/7/2010 at Fantasy Literature --- www.fantasyliterature.com)

[Oleksandr Zholud · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is soft SF novel, which was nominated for Hugo, Nebula and Locus Awards. I read as a part of Buddy reads in Hugo & Nebula Awards: Best Novels

The story is about David Selig, a telepath living in the 70s in New York. He is a pathetic character, self-eating for the fact that he has the gift for telepathy, so he is like a peeping tom and for the fact that his gift is waning. The story is written as an internal monologue with breaking of the fourth wall, - the protagonist often uses word you, referring to the reader. It is easy to write a super hero story with superpowers like telepathy, much more talent is needed to make a telepath a miserable, self-hating man. As a kid he was a boy wonder, for it is easy to ace tests, when you can cheat by reading teacher’s mind. However, he grew up not to some successful career, but to an unemployed bachelor, who get money by writing term papers for university students. There is not much sex per se, but a lot of sexual undertone, possibly to stress the peeping tom part.

Definitely a strong psychological novel, which could have been mainstream if its author wasn’t in SF ghetto at the time.

[Elizabeth Hunter · Rating 1 out of 5]

I found this book intensely disappointing. I'm usually very impressed with Silverberg's work, but here he seemed to be channelling the same vein of zeitgeist that gave us Portnoy's Complaint and other laments of the middle-aged white/Jewish guy whose dick doesn't rise as quickly in his forties as it did in his teens.

The premise is excellent: a guy who's been a telepath all his life, mostly secretly, finds that his powers are fading and has to cope with the loss of his superpower and the prospect of interacting with people without the inside knowledge he's always depended on.

If he were at all likeable, or even sympathetic, or if the story focused anywhere except inside his own depressed, dissatisfied head, this would be a much better book.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sometimes it's difficult to separate form from content. This is a well written book that explores a good concept - the downside of being able to read the minds of others - thoroughly. It's soft sf, content to explore the psychological and social ramifications of the gift/curse without providing explanation of how David Selig came into possession of it. In short, right up my alley.

So why the lukewarm rating? For starters, I found the book fairly dated. I have read my share of timeless SF, but there is something about the attitude of this novel that takes it out of this category. Selig himself is sympathetic but unlikeable, a strange combination. He's racist in a way that I find particularly uncomfortable, and again, dated. He doesn't come across as particularly sexist, but at the same time, I found myself irritated at the things that Silverberg presumed that Selig would find in the minds of women.

I think ultimately this is a treatise on aging and impotence, short on plot but long on vision. The construction is clever. I appreciated it but I didn't find much to actually like.

[Ivan Lutz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Vrlo vrlo ozbiljna knjiga! Psihološki rolerkoster, filozofski najfiniji punjeni kolač, književno generirano mutirani biceps i kvadriceps te fizikalni teorem za jednostavnost kompliciranog.
Da, sve je to Silverberg!
Premisa je jasna kao pekmez: život čovjeka koji čita misli. Ali kako to Robert radi to je genijalno. Teško je prepričati radnju jer tamo negdje na pola knjige počinje doslovno ličiti na dnevnik protagoniste, no, čita se ludo i brzo. Kraj baš onakav kakav volim, kakav obožavam... otvoren pa da moraš udahnuti nekoliko puta i prožvakati emociju koju ti je pljusnuo u lice. Baš sam uživao! Izvrsna, izvrsna knjiga!

[Dolceluna ♡ · Rating 5 out of 5]

David, quarantenne newyorkese, è cresciuto con un dono molto particolare: quello di poter entrare nella mente delle persone e di carpirne i pensieri.
Un dono che si è rivelato una maledizione, perché le sue relazioni amorose, amicali e professionali, sono spesso state interrotte da chi non capiva come lui potesse essere sempre davanti a ogni mossa, azione, pensiero. Un potere che gli ha causato incomprensione da parte degli altri, e di conseguenza abbandono e solitudine. Ma che tuttavia gli ha consentito di scrutare a fondo delle menti altrui, afferrandone paure, debolezze, desideri e aspirazioni.
E' cresciuto così, David. E ora, forte di questo potere, scrive compiti e tesine per gli studenti universitari, abile nel riprodurli con quello che sarebbe il loro stile, la loro lingua, proprio perché può entrare nei loro pensieri, esprimersi come loro, essere loro.
Tuttavia, il suo potere-maledizione inizia a poco a poco a scomparire. E lui, che ci è cresciuto, si aggrappa ai ricordi del suo passato, per non morire, per non morire del tutto. Ed è così che lo conosciamo, attraverso le sue stesse storie, i suoi amori tormentati, la relazione, mai facile con la sorella minore, la ricerca di un'identità che non ha mai trovato sino in fondo.
Una figura complessa, per un romanzo potentissimo.
L'immagine in copertina, un clown che sfodera un sorriso esagerato ma mostra una macchia sulla guancia, è proprio azzeccata. I clown, del resto, hanno sempre messo un po' di tristezza, con quel sorriso forzato, quella voglia di far ridere a tutti i costi, quel dubbio che nascondessero, dietro le labbra distese, un pianto.
E forse David è esattamente questo, una maschera, un mistero per gli altri, ma anche per se stesso.
Quando ho letto che "Morire dentro" è considerato come uno dei più illuminanti romanzi di fantascienza, beh, mi sono immaginata chissà quale storia complessa e ad ambientazione futuristica. Niente di tutto questo. Lo stile è semplice, il romanzo bellissimo, capace di suscitare riflessioni profonde. Insomma, tutto da scoprire.

[Graham P · Rating 2 out of 5]

** 1/2

Capitalizing on the early 1970s fascination with ESP and mind-reading, genre stalwart Robert Silverberg turns out a novel with little speculative fodder and much inner-city angst. The concept of the mind-reading loser may have found riper territories under the pen of comic misanthropes Stanley Elkin, Roth, or even Edward Lewis Wallant (The Tenants of Moonbloom), but here Silverberg can't help escape the juvenile narrative of a gifted loner, David Selig, who makes a living writing papers for Columbia University's athletes and rich kids. David can't find romance even though he has the power to eavesdrop on his target's inner desires; flat-lines his professional life down to near zero; and has a burdensome kinship with a hip sister who despises him and seems to be in relationships with half the city's intellectuals. Sounds quite promising on the spectrum of loser-fiction, but I felt mired in the shallow waters of Selig's first-person winching and whining, leaving the readers entangled in a diary entry of someone who fucked and fudged their miraculous skill on repeat. Sure, he's meant to be un-likeable, the inevitable asshole born in Brooklyn, but really, there is little ground to stand on. 'Dying Inside' felt like a missed opportunity, a bag of gas that could have been dynamite.

What is left is only the parable of having a gift and letting it tarnish, wither and then simply wash away to black. But meaningful parable aside, this is only a fair novel, a gem of an idea that never quite transcends itself into either heartbreak or epiphany (still, the LSD scene is quite something). Oh yeah, and there's the usual Silverberg boobisms at play (the man has a disruptive breast fetish) as well as some silly banter aka jive talk when it comes to race relations. But at 200 pages, it's a digestible and disappointing kibitz.

[Denis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Essentially, it's the story of a telepath, and how he copes with the loss of this blessing/curse of an ability later in life. Expertly developed both story and characters. Grade A Silverberg. Definitely one of my all time favourites.