From the moment that Watership Down made its appearance on screen in season one, speculation about Lost's literary allusions has played an important role in the larger discussion of the show. Fans and critics alike have noted the many references, from biblical passages and children's stories to science fiction and classic novels.
Literary Lost teases out the critical significance of these featured books, demonstrating how literature has served to enhance the meaning of the show. It provides a fuller understanding of Lost and reveals how television can be used as a tool for stimulating a deeper interest in literary texts.
The first chapter features an exhaustive list of "Lost books," including the show's predecessor texts. Subsequent chapters are arranged thematically, covering topics from free will and the nature of time to parenthood and group dynamics. From Lewis Carroll's creations, which appear as recurring images and themes throughout, to Slaughterhouse-Five's lessons on the nature of time, Literary Lost will help readers unravel the show's novelistic plot while celebrating its astonishing layers and nuances of text.
If anywhere the idea applies that in order to suck the life out of something all you have to do is overanalyze it, then it is here. When I approached the book initially — intrigued by its title — I was hoping for a reflection of what I believe New TV to be about: an extension of the novel as form. Many of the series of this new era, both good and bad, are nothing more than dramatized novels: they exist in large form, over at least dozens of hours, and contain stories which arc and which all, more or less, come together under a ur-story, the spine of the work. Deadwood, Breaking Bad, House of Cards (both the UK and US versions), and The Sopranos represent perhaps the best of the lot. It is serial storytelling, as apposed to episodic. Others — House pops most readily to mind — are a combination of the serial and the episodic, still important perhaps for the larger story, told over seasons rather than minutes.
It is to this aspect that I was hoping the book would address itself. Instead, we are offered an inane psycho–spiritual analysis of the series, using Lost's many literary allusions, direct or implied, as lenses through which to view the show. OK, this would have been an intriguing aspect in the context of a larger book, but half that would have been fine, thank you all the same. Hell, half of half that would have been too much. Ironically, the approach that the author has taken to the work leaves the book itself feeling very episodic. There is no cohesion, mere endless and exhaustive (exhausting) analysis. A reader of the book which had never experienced the series would likely find something else to watch after putting the book down.
In the end, "Lost" is not Dostoevsky. Whatever pretense to depth the series offers is just that, pretense. Saying so isn't a slight. The series writers knew what they were doing. They were telling a fun story, but doing so with the courage to extend themselves over a very long expanse of time. This is the novelist's courage, the reason that the novel as form is still relevant today. A book which addressed itself to this aspect could have been a fascinating read. Unfortunately, this is not that book.
I started coming down hard on Lost in my head because I started feeling like it was spinning its wheels more than than it was spinning a yarn. A lot of the threads leading up to the end felt like they could have been resolved in a few scenes, or that they weren't fully integrated into the story. That being said, I wasn't disappointed by The End. I somehow didn't mind things being left undone, and I don't mind quasi-mystical endings that involve bright flashes of light.
This book lists 92+ books that are related to Lost either directly through their mention or appearance on the show (Of Mice and Men, Watership Down) to those that are only thematically related (Stephen King's Dark Tower series). I haven't read many of the books discussed in the book, but Stuart's explorations are still accessible. In fact, one of her main arguments is that Lost serves as a kind of reader's advisory for its viewers, directing to them to books both popular and classic that explore similar territory. Because the series ended in 2010, Stuart is able to view the series and its literary cousins as one complete piece, something other books about the show are sorely lacking.
An enjoyable if uneven collection. Some of the essays seemed to cohere around their subjects better than others. On occasion I felt that the right observations were there, but the synthesis of ideas was routine and less than compelling. Fans of LOST (and lit crit) will enjoy revisiting the series in this manner, examining the forms and themes of the show as exemplified by its numerous literary allusions. The book also conveniently gathers together the entire list of books mentioned on the show, complete with brief summaries.
I liked reading how different books, many of which I still have to read, interconnect with themes and events in the television series Lost. I especially liked hearing about The Brothers Karamazov as that is one of my favorite books.