The Man Who Saw Everything Review
The Man who Saw Everything was a lovely surprise. A book that left me close to tears by the end.
At first, I struggled a little to read it. It was chaotic and I felt irritation towards Saul due to its carelessness. It is not until half-way through the book that the jigsaw’s pieces start to find their way back home. Saul, has attempted suicide by crossing the Abbey Road, which stretches like a bridge between the start and end of this novel. It is just one of the many symbols that are scattered across this 200-pages-long novel. We also find a tin of pineapple, a symbol of both hope and regret. A little wooden train that objectifies the loss of a lover and a son. The reader is thrown back and forth between 1988 East Berlin and Britain, then forward to 1993 Massauchetts, 2016 London and then back again to 1990 modern Germany. A journey dominated by nostalgia, mingled with grief and love. The author has gifted us with a thoughtful and deep excavation into the past, present and psyche of Saul Adler. She takes our hand guiding us from the protagonist’s childhood trauma to its repercussions in all stages of his life. The death of his mother is a shadow throughout Saul’s life, like the spectre in Jennifer Moreau’s photographs; it sometimes comes out on the surface, while others it stays hidden. It is never fully addressed, only lightly implied to avoid turning the novel into a stage saturated with gloom. The reader is just another jigsaw’s piece that patiently leads Saul to the zebra crossing on Abbey Road, where he will finally meet peace. I particularly appreciated the shortness of this book; nowadays, I find that most writers spend too much words and paper over no concept. Deborah Levy was concise but moved me deeply. I can’t wait to read more of her books, and if anyone is struggling to read this novel at first, I recommend you to keep reading and you won’t regret it.
“It’s like this, Jennifer Moreau: we were young and clueless and reckless, but I never stopped loving you.”
“It’s like this, Saul Adler” --she still had her back to me-- “you were so detached and absent, the only way I could reach you was with my camera.”
