Book Review: Lowboy

Book #81

“Today he was sitting on a bench in a subway station, counting from one up to seven, lonelier than any prophet in the desert.” — John Wray, Lowboy

I was really looking forward to this book. It was published in the US months before the UK, so I had to wait impatiently. I like reading literature that relates to my field. It often frustrates me, especially when it features inaccuracies or generalities, but I almost always find it interesting to read. So when I found out about the premise for this novel — a schizophrenic teenager breaks away from psychiatric care and runs through the subway, hiding and trying to save the world from ‘coming to an end’ (one of his many delusions) — I thought, hey. This novel has a chance.

I was disappointed. I didn’t hate it, at all — I just thought that he had the power to do much more with it. I didn’t want it to preach — novels should almost never preach about illnesses, it causes too many misunderstandings. The weaknesses I felt were more to do with the novel than with his use of schizophrenia. It really don’t help that at the time I was close to finishing an amazing memoir on schizophrenia, and of course I’d studied the disease. I thought Detective Ali was severely lacking in depth, and grew increasingly irritated when the narrative was given over to him. Lowboy himself was executed quite well, his mother to a lesser degree.

I didn’t think the particularly shocking event toward the end was shocking at all, and I resented the way Wray wrote it. It was almost condescending. Most of my issues were that I was expecting a fantastic novel and was met with a mediocre one. I wouldn’t go out of my way to recommend it, but I wouldn’t ask anyone to put it down, either. I know that some people would enjoy it, and I’m sure several would disagree with me. For my part, however, I doubt I’ll reread it and I’ll probably free up the shelf space by exchanging the book.

A final note: I’m writing this review two months after having read the book. Some books get better with time, and some book disappoint you more. I think you can figure out which this was for me. Although overall I would’ve said the same things if I had written it immediately, I would’ve probably pointed out a couple more good aspects of the novel.