3.5 stars
This was a very fun book to read, though it left me dissatisfied in the end. It’s also a difficult one to classify, being right on the line between science fiction and contemporary literary fiction. The premise deals with a technology that can remove or restore memory, and the book explores how this affects individual lives, how it operates in society, and the ethics of it, particularly in corporate hands. The book is also interested in the science, both real memory science and the speculative techniques. But on the litfic side, the story is set in the real, modern world with only the one change, and focused on a handful of regular people and their lives and relationship challenges—no changing the world here. I want to call it a psychological thriller, as it is propulsive without being action-oriented, but then psychological thrillers tend to center deeply morally compromised protagonists and the only person here to fit that bill is seen only through the eyes of others. Though despite that, I did ultimately feel that Louise was the real central character, and would have enjoyed a book from her perspective.
What the book actually does is weave together the perspectives of five different people: Noor, a middle manager at the memory company who starts to realize there’s shady business going on while wishing for a memory removal of her own, and four people who learn that they’ve had memories removed and elected to have this information hidden from them. Mei is a college dropout seeking independence from her parents and sleuthing into her own missing memories; Oscar, a confused young man living in hiding, with no memory of his childhood; William, a former police officer whose career and marriage have fallen apart following a PTSD reaction he doesn’t understand; and Finn, a middle-aged husband and father with suspicions about the memory his wife chose to remove.
So there are a lot of different stories, and they don’t so much all come together as they illustrate different aspects of the memory removal question: why people might do it and whether it would benefit them, and whether later restorations would be a good idea. But I didn’t need them all to come together; I found each plotline engaging and the book a quick and compelling read. And the portrayal of how modern adults interact is refreshingly authentic and believable. The book pulled me in from the beginning just because the workplace dynamics felt so real. And it’s always fun to see fiction that seems informed about how the world works: the effects of lawsuits, the roles of protestors and online discourse, the behavior of side characters, all felt true to life.
(Slight spoilers below)
That said, in the end my reaction was somewhat mixed. For a book largely about the effects of traumatic memory, the fact that almost everyone’s traumatic memories prove to be bizarre freak accidents seems a bit… cheap? Lazy? Weak? Certainly unrepresentative. (I wondered if Harkin was purposely trying not to use traumas readers are likely to have, but then car accidents are very common, if not with the particular melodramatic elements seen here. And then, suicide and gaslighting are both major plot points.) What everyone else wants to forget are their failed romances—the author actually posits that 72% of people calling the company are doing so for this reason—which also struck me as quite unlikely. So much for diverse experiences among the cast.
Likewise, I found the book a bit gutless in its treatment of race—wanting to have a diverse cast on paper, without dealing with how being non-white in modern England would affect the characters’ lives. William’s whole plotline is about trying to repair his relationship with his wife, going to couples counseling, etc., yet their being interracial is never even mentioned—in fact, I assumed for most of the book that they were both black since her mother is stated to be from Jamaica, but then at the very end we’re told he has piercing green eyes and brown hair, so, white I guess? For all I know, the wife is also intended as white, for all the book deals with this aspect of her experience. Meanwhile Mei is an international adoptee and while her plotline is all about the differences between her and her parents, the racial one never comes up there either. The one sentence about Noor habitually throwing apple cores in the yard of someone who once called her a terrorist is it as far as the book’s acknowledgment of race or xenophobia.
And then in the end, I found Finn, William and Mei noticeably more believable than Oscar and Noor. Oscar feels only half fleshed out, and I wasn’t convinced by a grown adult of his background having a personality that can be summed up by “childlike goodness.” (He’s like Piranesi without the influence of the House, and I think you’ve got to be Susanna Clarke to pull off Piranesi.) Likewise, in the end I needed to know more about Noor to find her isolation and social cluelessness believable (she must be mid-30s at least!): is she neurodivergent? Traumatized? Both? Neither? How did she even wind up here? She started out promising, but I was bored by the memories of her ill-fated romance, which featured so little connection it would have made more sense as a one-night stand, and wound up not really rooting for her or believing in her sudden growth. But where the book delves into more substantial relationships—whether romances, parents and children, or colleagues—I think it does much better, with the three more connected characters feeling more real than the two most isolated ones.
Overall then, a fun book with an interesting premise, though somewhat dissatisfying in retrospect and one that’s fading quickly from my own memory. Potentially worth checking out if you’re interested. It is a debut, and promising enough I’ll be interested to see what Harkin writes next. I hope it will be gutsier.