David Lodge’s name jumped out at me from my list of Gloucestershire suggestions as several of his books of literary criticism helped get me through my English Literature degree at the University of Warwick, and I had absolutely no idea that he wrote fiction. “Thinks…”, part novel and part psychological thesis (in an absolutely non-boring way), is yet more evidence of the intellectuality and alertness of his mind, and he has absolutely no hesitation in immersing himself – artistically speaking – in aspects of technology, sexuality and criminality of the modern world. Not bad for a 79-year-old.
The plot begins with Ralph Messenger, a Cognitive Science professor at the fictional University of Gloucester, who shamelessly records himself with a Dictaphone as he voices every unadulterated thought (and some are definitely perverse) that comes into his mind in the hope of producing a true human ‘stream of consciousness’. Why? “To try and describe the structure of, or rather to produce a specimen, that is to say raw data, on the basis of which one might begin to try to describe the structure of, or from which one might inter the structure of … thought” (1).
He wants to define how thought processes work: something that has always eluded scientific minds. “Imagine,” he explains to everyone who asks, “if everyone had those bubbles over their heads that you get in kid’s comics, with ‘Thinks…’ inside them” (42).
In fact, the closest humans have ever been able to come to documenting what thought processes actually look like, is not through science but through art: fictional, narrative consciousness. That’s where Helen Reed comes in: she is a newly arrived resident writer and English professor at the university. Over the course of the novel, aside from developing the above academic investigation together through their professional relationship, their burgeoning private relationship provides the main fruit of Lodge’s novel.
Cleverly, in a novel focussed on the difficulty of defining thought patterns and of comparing individual perceptions, Lodge alternates his narrative perspective between Ralph’s recordings of his private consciousness, Helen’s diary entries of her own, and an occasional omniscient narrator that dives between the two. Instead of their thought patterns ‘being on the same wavelength’, these different perspectives only emphasise the contrast in the way the same events are understood and detailed by Helen and Ralph. Even though they believe they are expressing themselves openly and honestly, Helen and Ralph – and, indeed, all humans – are shown to be isolated inside their own minds, their understanding of each other limited by differences in perception, by the constraints of language and punctuation (how do you actually write thought? How do you punctuate it?), and by the social embarrassment associated with airing private thoughts. There will always be a chasm, Helen realises, between “my neurotic self and my more rational, observing, recording self” (14). And how can that ever be measured scientifically?
Lodge’s characters, then, suffer from a sort of Locked-In Syndrome unbeknownst to anyone: “locked inside your body, completely helpless, unable to speak or gesture, unable to even nod or shake your head” (87). Isolated.
This theme of isolation is certainly iterated in the novel’s setting too: the University of Gloucester seems to be a sort of factory for individuals each moving on their own paths, without convergence. Students are shuttle-bussed around the campus “as in an airport car-park” (11); the university is a production line, a means to an end, and not the destination itself. Thus Helen is filled with a sense of emptiness as she looks around her new home and workplace. She feels entrapped by the “wire perimeter fence” (31) outside of which “there are only dark fields and darker clumps of trees, and scattered farmhouses whose lights gleam like distant ships at sea” (12) – it could not be more remote compared to her life in London. What is more, “all the necessities of life are provided on campus: there’s a small supermarket, a launderette, a bank […] Lots of students never leave campus from one end of a semester to the other” (19), compounding the unpleasant locked-in sensation.
Lodge’s novel is certainly self-conscious, “avant-garde fiction” (2) at its best. It is intelligently written, thought-provoking and can be read in a whole host of different ways – all according to individual perception. It’s nothing like anything I have read before, and nothing like what I expected from this writer who I already believed myself to be somewhat familiar with. Reading the ‘About the Author’ section in my edition, it is awe-inspiring how many prizes for fiction Lodge has won between 1960 and today – the Hawthornden Prize, the Yorkshire Post Fiction Prize, the Whitbread Book of the Year Award, the Sunday Express Book of the Year Award, the Commonwealth Writers Prize, numerous Booker Prize nominations and a CBE for services to literature, among heaps more. I’m also astonished to learn that Thinks… is not considered one of his best novels…?! Well, mind blown. I really cannot wait to read more. This one was 4/5 stars.
Also, for any beloved University of Warwick-goers, Lodge’s campus setting and isolated location rings a LOT of bells – possibly something to do with him having taught at the University of Birmingham for almost 30 years? Maybe I’m just over-eager.
Next time I’ll be reviewing When Ravens Fall by Matilda Wren. Join me then!