Ill Will by
Dan Chaon
My rating:
3 of 5 stars
There were so many things I enjoyed about this novel, and things I could do without. I love the way Chaon experimented with the placement of words on the page. He makes use of white space in totally new ways. He lays narratives side by side on the page to simulate thoughts going on the same time. This is fitting since the books themes are about perceptions and our ability/ desire to dissociate. Sometimes it is a protection like when you are experiencing trauma like abuse or violence. Sometimes we do it to escape with drugs, alcohol, social media. Or if we don’t want to see the truth, or to find the truth through hypnosis or other therapies. Of course the extreme is a sensory deprivation tank where any sense of self is eventually destroyed. As Chaon explores these themes, he goes on too long about drugs and perhaps too deep into some of the traumas, but this may be a case where the art and themes transcend some of the more unsavory elements.
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And the other thing about a dream, I thought: The way it collapses when you wake, the way it stops making logical sense and you can’t hold it in your conscious mind anymore. Because it doesn’t exist in language. There are images, layered upon one another, which communicate each to each. There is a face that is four faces at once. You are you but not you.
It made me think of the neurology class I took in college, the professor talking about eigengrau—intrinsic gray, brain gray. It was the color you “saw” when light was totally absent, a kind of visual noise, like snow static on a television.
And you realize that if there are ghosts, they are not the ghosts of the dead. The ghosts are the ones who sat in these little waiting rooms. The bereaved. They are the ones who can’t help but return, over and over—they remember every detail of that couch they sat on while they were weeping; they are the ones who can’t leave.