Siri Hustvedt is best known for novels such as ‘What I Loved’, ‘The Sorrows of the American’ and ‘The Enchantment of Lily Dahl’ which have all received deserved critical acclaim. But I know her best for her essays and non-fiction works such as ‘A Plea for Eros’ and ‘The Shaking Woman (or A History of My Nerves)’. Both of these latter works still resonate with me. For example, it was in ‘A Plea for Eros’ that Hustvedt commented on the narcissistic aspects of love. That is, each of us desires another (or ‘an Other’) who reflects ourselves back to us (our beliefs, desires, morals etc.). This idea has stuck with me as I think, in general, it is very true. It seems to me that when a couple meet for the first time and say they ‘just clicked’ this ‘clicking’ often translates as a ‘meeting of minds’. Two minds which were previously separate like small pieces within a larger jigsaw puzzle, click into place. They fit together and reflect one another. Hustvedt’s latest book, ‘Living, Thinking, Looking’ sees her returning to the essay format. It is a collection of 32 essays divided into the three subject areas of the book’s title: ‘living’ consists of pieces drawn from Hustvedt’s own life; ‘thinking’ is a selection of writings on memory and the self; and ‘looking’ mainly focuses on artworks and artists. What I love about Hustvedt’s books is her writing style: it is so clear and unambiguous – even when she is expounding on subjects as complex as post-structuralist theory, neuroscience, and Freudian psychology. One of the blurbs on the back of ‘Living, Thinking’ Looking’ comments that she ‘has an enviable ability to digest and reframe her discoveries into clear, accessible prose’. And in a recent review of Hustvedt’s latest book, the author Sally Vickers concurs – she believes Hustvedt ‘has the confidence born of complex but well digested thoughts and thus lacks the tendency to obfuscate that is the hallmark of the inferior thinker’s style’. I couldn’t agree more. One of Hustvedt’s essays in this collection (‘Excursions to the Islands of the Happy Few’) attacks ivory-towered intellectuals who write rarified texts that rely on words only known to the ‘happy few’. Writing for the ‘happy few’ is not in Hustvedt’s remit, and it’s for this reason I think her books should be read more widely. She writes about, for, and to all of us. There are several themes running through ‘Living, Thinking’ Looking’ and these include: i) the mutability and plasticity of memory; ii) the interlinking of memory and imagination; iii) the divided self; and iv) the creative interaction between artist and viewer. As ever, Hustvedt’s essays give plenty of food for thought. Which is the sign of a great writer. However, the problem with a collection of essays like this one which have been written over a period of 5-6 years is that the same ideas keep popping up throughout the book. It can therefore get a little repetitive. Yet despite this, Hustvedt’s book is definitely worth reading. It has made me realise, for example, that having the feeling of not belonging to a country isn’t so odd afterall. It has also made me understand that memory is not something that is fixed and immutable – and that both it and the imagination are one and the same thing. And, for me, any book which makes you understand yourself better and which improves your knowledge of the world around you is a work to be treasured.

Lawrence Jones - 12/07/2012 Report this Review

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