Unique Books: An Unreliable Man
Have you ever read a book without knowing anything about it?
Or have you ever read a story that isn’t necessarily your cup of tea, nor is the subject a thing that you spare a thought over normally, with a character who is neither despicable nor loveable, but you find yourself drawn into it nonetheless and come out of it with a raised eyebrow and a thoughtful “huh!”?
The book I'm going to discuss now is that "huh!"-inducing novel for me. And because it was so unusual, I wanted to talk about it, mention it, and hope that more people would be interested enough to pick it up. This is one of those novels that broadens your horizons.
The title is intriguing. You grab the book as soon as you see the title and wonder, "Why unreliable?" What makes this individual so untrustworthy that he deserves to be publicly shamed? Is he a killer or a thief? Perhaps a swindler, defrauding honest people of their hard-earned money. Then you flip the book to the back cover to read the synopsis, assuming this book has an actual summary on the back cover rather than the usual one-liner reviews. This time, you're in luck. And the first line, "Jakop is a lonely man," captures your attention; you feel sorry for Jakop, and you might think, "Ah, maybe that's why."
But how does loneliness make a man unreliable?
Let me start by saying that I didn't buy this book because of the title or what it says on the back. I bought it because of a name: Jostein Gaarder. Our unreliable man enjoys talking about languages and words. We actually learn a little bit about the author through him. We find that "Jostein" means "horse stone," and "Gaarder" has the same etymology as the German, French, and Italian Garten, jardin, and giardino, all of which mean "garden." Isn't it interesting? (Thank you Jakop) Sophie's World was the first book by Jostein Gaarder that I read and enjoyed years ago; philosophy simplified and made amusing. I reread it a few months ago, and it still holds up. I’ve read The Solitaire Mystery, Vita Brevis: A Letter to St. Augustine, The Ringmaster’s Daughter, The Orange Girl, and The World According to Anna, and this last Christmas I read The Christmas Mystery. I knew Gaarder's magic before I read An Unreliable Man, but even so, I wasn't prepared for what I read.
Jakop Jakopson is a Norwegian philologist who is writing a letter to a person named Agnes that we haven’t met yet, and in it he’s telling his story.
“What is the easiest way to make sense of our lives? Is it when we sum up from the beginning, or is it when we start from the present day, which of course is freshest in our minds, and from that point reminisce our way back to where it all began? The flaw in this second method is that there is no absolute causality in people’s lives.
It’s not possible to prove why one has become the way one has. Many have tried to do just that, but they haven’t got much further than underlining their humanity.”
He eventually decides to begin with the Lundin funeral and, after that, only cover those where he met a Lundin. Jakob's story is heavily focused on funerals, the culture surrounding them, and what people do and say at funerals. Surprisingly, however, the emphasis is not on dying. Our middle-aged, lonely, unreliable man, the university professor, divorcee, and occasional puppeteer, attends funerals. There’s nothing strange about that, I know, but Jakop visits the funerals of people he doesn't know. Before each funeral, he researches the departed and begins concocting stories about how he knew them, met them, and what they talked about. The bereaved see their lost loved one in a fresh and odd light. Most people don't bat an eye, while others suspect Jakop and want to politely reveal his true identity and purpose to others. Unsuccessfully, might I add. Nobody knows him, and nobody can truly prove he's not telling the truth. He survives, though; after all, he's been doing it for years, since he was a young man. Until things get out of hand at Agnes' sister's funeral. Two very important things happen. He studies her and her life's work thoroughly, but he overlooks one crucial piece of information about the deceased. Despite this error, Agnes invites Jakop to stay at the funeral and doesn't kick him out like some others want to. They actually become friends and this marks the beginning of change in our main character’s life. It’s not that Agnes understands him, but she tries to. That’s all it takes sometimes.
Now, as to why I think this is a unique book, it is because Jakop is unique. To have a middle-aged man tell his story is interesting to me. But he’s also an educated and respectable man with a respectable job, so why is he going to all these funerals? Why does Jakop feel the need to make up stories about how he knows these strangers just to be at their funerals? After all, funerals aren’t necessarily fun.
When I read this book, from the second I picked it up to the day I finished it, I felt the presence of this invisible character in the story. Of course, we meet a lot of people as Jakop walks through his life and down memory lane. We read along as he tries to tell us why he's doing what he’s been doing for the majority of his life—not out of malice; Jakop isn’t a dangerous, deranged stalker, no. Gradually, this extra character starts to form. It joins us on the journey. As Jakop tells us about his childhood, his young years, his friendships, and his unsuccessful marriage, this other character is also born and grows and grows until it becomes a heavy presence on every page, in the space between the words. Its obvious existence can no longer be ignored.
Lonely adjective (lōn-lē):
Being without company
Caught off from others
Loneliness noun (loʊnlinɪs):
The unhappiness that is felt by someone because they do not have any friends or do not have anyone to talk to.
Loneliness becomes flesh and blood the more we learn about Jakop Jakopson. And as his loneliness becomes palpable, we stop judging him and instead start to understand him. We sympathize with our unreliable man. You know why? Loneliness is a part of all of us; we’re all familiar with it, ignore it at times, feel it on our skin like an unlikeable odor, live with it, and sometimes embrace it. We all know that sometimes loneliness seeps into the marrow of our bones and makes us do unusual things. Jakop’s loneliness makes him build up these imaginary stories of these real and deceased people. It makes him join funerals that he doesn’t belong to and allows him to feel, for a very short period of time, part of a big family.
I don’t recall ever encountering this kind of tangible loneliness in fiction. A huge, all-encompassing, ever-present, and real loneliness. Jakop, it’s important to know, is not depressed or suicidal. He’s just very, bone achingly alone in this world. And this, along with his story and how he tells it and the person he’s telling it to, makes this book unique for me. The loneliness, the kind that you feel even when surrounded by people, resonated with me.
When I finished the book, I wasn’t in love with Jakop or any of the other characters, nor was I in love with the story itself. But it stuck with me for weeks after I turned the last page and closed the book. I kept thinking about Jakop and went back to his story.
An Unreliable Man wasn't a 5-star read; the deep dive into etymology tended to bore me at times. It was, however, a memorable and precious read. A strange 4-star read that claims its place on a corner shelf in my brain and memory for a long, long time.
