Overall, I enjoyed listening to this book, and I would recommend it. I found it entertaining and well-paced. However, Louis' reflections on Saville are disappointing, cold, detached and far too focused on himself and Saville rather than the victims.
I've read other reviewers writing that Louis was 'deeply affected' by the revelations about Saville. While I agree that he was undoubtedly perturbed and inconvenienced by them, I don't completely agree with the implication that he was saddened or sickened as one might expect. His musings instead sound vaguely self-righteous and defensive and like those of someone who just doesn't quite get the big deal. For example, he troublingly refers to the act of Jimmy raping a fourteen year old having groomed her for several weeks and luring her to a caravan, which subsequently leaves her pregnant and having to give her baby up for adoption, as "having sex with". It shouldn't have to be explained to Louis that it's not possible for a man in a position of staggering power to have consenting sex with a fourteen year old child; this was rape and it should have been called that word instead of being sanitised. Perhaps he was respecting her choice of words, but if this was the case he should have commented to make that clear. Louis also alludes a couple of times to the well-worn argument about "different times and different moral values" in a vague but lucid way that gives the impression that he is at his core very sympathetic to this view. Strikingly, at no point in the extremely long treatment of the subject does he report any humane or compassionate emotional responses to the victims' harrowing testimonies. Nor does he report any emotional responses to re-watching his time with Saville that one would expect of someone who has connected with the plight of these victims, such as revulsion, horror or disturbed feelings. Instead, after reviewing one tape he admits to "boredom" and the old feelings of friendship and familiarity stirring up. Whilst I admire his honesty in other parts of the book, his admission of this was perhaps ill-judged and too revealing. He let some of the victims' testimonies stand for themselves, but the omission of human feeling was ultimately troubling. It makes me reflect on those who idealise Louis Theroux' questioning and see his sparse style as magical and nonjudgmental and it makes me think that we often project onto mysterious, stoic and intelligent white men a great deal more compassion than they may actually posses.
Linked to this, at the beginning of the book Louis was utterly lacking in awareness of his own white privilege when meeting with white supremecist after Nazi after white supremecist. Nor did he at any point concede that he couldn't have had that job as a black or brown person. He reported his feelings of mild excitement or whatever else in being in close proximity to these men with a stunning lack of reflection that his cool, calm and collectedness was not owing to character superiority but rather to the fact that his physical size, maleness, straightness and whiteness and lack of racialised traumatic history conferred on him a sense of security and safety in their presence that others would not have been afforded. Again, no mention of the lived experience of victims of Nazism or racism. Moreover, although I commend his honesty in talking about the arguments with his wife about her carrying the disproportionate burden of childcare and domestic tasks, he never gets to a point of connecting with or understanding the inherent gendered injustices here, nor does he reflect in a meaningful way about plight of women.
Finally, throughout the book Louis regularly lumps mentally ill people in with categories of weirdos, paedophiles and murderers apparently without realising how stigmatising this is. The first time he did it, I could overlook it. The third time, when he said things like, "talking about prisoners or the mentally ill, I can't remember which", I was bothered. Again, people's lack of mental illness is not due to character superiority but due to the privilege of a good enough childhood and young adulthood that are absent of permanently damaging traumas. In his book, however, they are very much "othered" and constructed as objects of weird fascination.
Louis makes some commendable efforts at superficial humility and self-deprecation in the book, but I couldn't help but feel that this was slightly performed and that he is perhaps more narcissistic than he lets on, particularly in the context of the glaring omissions of sentiment at appropriate points. It is clear that he utterly lacks deep or nuanced understanding of complex issues of societal injustice (ironically, given the subjects of his documentaries) and how they affect the lived experience of people of colour or women. I suspect that since he's moved in the world as a male it's unlikely he's experienced the build up of objectification, injustice, harassment and very often assault that women have had scar, rattle and challenge them repeatedly, and that it is likely owing to this that he cannot- despite repetitive and lengthy meditation on the subject- muster anything approximating depth of feeling or authentic empathy that would connect him to the horrific experiences endured by Saville's victims. There is far too much justification of why he "missed" the signs, which is unfortunately missing the point. I guess we are all an amalgamation of our experiences and people cannot give what they don't have. But Louis is someone who has had ample opportunity for education on these subjects, more than most, and I expected more.
All of these are critiques of Louis' moral perspective in the book and not critiques of the book itself. The book is full of admirable candor at times, it has momentum and is compelling and interesting. It remains eloquent and intelligent throughout. However, after spending so much time with Louis and this book I felt the need to get this off my chest. Hopefully, Louis will read and take in some of the points from these reviews and carry them into future documentaries.