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[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

30 years / 30 songs

As of 2:26 AM Latvian time, I am thirty years old. Originally, I was going to try and summarise my life in 30 sentences, but everything I wrote felt like it was an incomplete attempt at trying to capture my existence. Then, I thought I could try to reflect on these thirty years of my life by having a song per a year on being on Earth, with a little element of my life being associated with a certain song. This is the playlist that came about.

Bo Burnham - 30 Inside came out in 2020. I believe that no work of art captured the sense of isolation and desperation,while being saturated with content, and dealing with historical reckoning and loneliness at the same time, better than Inside. After turning 18, 30 is the next big milestone. It comes with a lot of pressures around romantic, professional and general life milestones. Burnham's 30 captures a sense of youth slipping away and realising that you might be losing touch, and being taken aback by that realisation.

Talking Heads - Road to Nowhere This was the first song I blasted from my North London balcony in 2021 as the fireworks echoed in the distance. This is one of my all time favourite songs, mainly because it embodies a certain positive nihilism. 'There's a city in my mind/ Come along and take that ride / and it's all right, baby, it's all right' Death is the only certainity, so why not enjoy the journey on the way?

The Flaming Lips - Do you realize? When I was 18, I wanted to tattoo the lyrics 'Let them know you realize that life goes fast / It's hard to make the good things last' I have seen The Flaming Lips twice and both times I have come out, feeling an immense sense of joy and love for other humans. Everything is tempory so every moment of joy and happiness is worthy to hold onto.

Pulp - Common People I love Jarvis Cocker, this song is a storytelling masterpiece and Different Class is a perfect album. Common People is one of the wittiest songs ever written, while being an absolute banger.

Bob Dylan - The Times They Are A-Changin' I always think of Bob Dylan as my first 'serious' musical love so I had to include this. As I became more interested in music, I remember creating a certain canon to explore. Dylan's revolutionary and political songs spoke to my 14-year old maximalism. The maximalism has faded, but Dylan manages to return.

Eels - Beginners Luck It was 2009 and I discovered Hombre Lobo through a radio show, I was 15 and discovering Eels felt so special. Like walking through my hometown and having this cool alt-rock playing in my ears, and feeling like I had discovered a secret. Years later I read Things the Grandchildren Should Know. It's one of my favourite books, mainly because of how honest and no-bullshit it is, while showing the way in which art can pull you out from the darkest hellholes.

Patti Smith - Because the Night I spent my teenage years going out to bars in the oldtown, and dancing till the first public tranport could get me home at 5 or 6 am. Because the Night was the most passionate and sexy song to let go of any worries and just dance the night away.

The Kooks - Do You Wanna? As a kid, I listened to a lot of mainstream pop as that was what everyone was listening to. The Kooks were the first 'indie' band (whatever that means) that I encountered. Me and my friend would walk around quiet areas of Ventspils and drink cheap red wine stolen from our parents and listen to the Kooks, and we felt so cool. I don't think I've ever felt as cool as I did when I wore vans, ripped jeans and listened to the Kooks.

Janelle Monae- Screwed Janelle Monae's Dirty Computer is a masterpiece. It is a meaningful artistic statement and it is about taking up space. It's a reminder that we have the agency to act and change the world in a way that we desire.

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) This is included for the little Alina, who loved watching VH1 Top 10 after school and was obsessed with this song.

Joy Division - Shadowplay This is for the angsty teen, who could not get enough of the bass line on Shadowplay.

Bērnības milicija - Ārā The Latvian band that made highschool bearable, the songs of which were the most beautiful poetry, so much so that I ended up analysing their lyrics in a state exam.

The National - Slow Show 'A little more stupid / A little more scared / Every minute a bit more unprepared' I could not have a playlist without a band that has become such a big part of me. This was the first song, I genuinely felt captured something true to the way I existed in the world.

Arctic Monkeys - Cornerstone Would I be proper millenial if I didn't have an AM phase? Cornerstone was my first song of theirs I really grew to love, which led to listening to the first two albums, and a few years later seeing them live in Stockholm with my dad, which is a memory I hold dear and close to my heart.

Avril Lavigne - Anything But Ordinary Let Go was the first album I remember listening to ad nauseum. I was going to write her a letter, when I was 10, but never got round to it. Avril embodied a girlhood that seemed appealing to me, a tomboy-ness that felt almost revolutionary in a world that kept saying that girls were meant to be a certain way, a way which I did not resonate with nor resemble.

boygenius - Not Strong Enough A band that has had such an impact on my life over the past year that I cannot exclude them.

Leonard Cohen - Everybody Knows For the disilliusioned part of me that feels like the world is a unchanging clusterfuck of suffering and there is little that can be done about it. Also for the 18 year old version of me, who loved Pump Up the Volume and a young Christian Slater

Bon Iver - Holocene For the 17 year old who felt this album was so beautiful and the video for this song so awe-inspiring that she started crying in central Riga as it played in her earphones.

Elliott Smith - Waltz #2  My big love for many years, whose albums I replayed again and again, as I attended my classes, hosted a radio show rather badly and felt like no one wrote more beautifully than Elliott Smith.

Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me More beauty that surrvives the test of time.

Sufjan Stevens - Mystery of Love One of my favourite love songs ever written, composed for a film that I absolutely adore.

Angelo Badalamenti - Twin Peaks theme My mom says she watched Twin Peaks when she was pregnant with me and she always loved the opening credits. I watched it when I was 17 and it is one hell of a soundtrack to the work of fantastic film maker.

Bruce Springsteen - I'm on Fire A reminder of a time, when I was playing a dj set at my favourite bar with my friend and a man commented that he approved of our Bruce choice. Still one of the sexiest songs to exist.

The xx - Night Time I still haven't found an album that feels as intimate and gentle as the xx debut. It was a special moment in time as I listened to it for the first time in my bedroom, late at night, before going to bed and I remember being completely taken aback by the fact that something like that had been created.

Pete Doherty - For Lovers Positivus 2015 was my first music festival, it opened a whole new world to me and was a key event of shaping the person I am now.

Alise Joste- A Thousand Questions Alise made music that soothed my troubled soul and her concerts always felt like wonderful intimate affairs, in a world that felt like it was rushing and making you fall behind.

Lucy Dacus - A Map on the Wall

'But I feel fine

And I made up my mind

To live happily, feeling beautiful beneath the trees

Above a ground that's solid at the core

Oh please, don't make fun of me

Oh, you know I get frightened so easily

When I'm all alone and the floorboards creak

It's those noises in the dark'

28. Mazzy Star - Fade Into You A reminder of the Alina that bawled her eyes out at Primavera Sound, aged 18, and captivated by Hope's magical voice.

29. Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah The most beautiful cover and a man, whose musical ability blew me away, when I first heard Grace.

30. Baz Luhrmann - Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen Forever valuable life lessons. The words were actually written by Mary Schmich, which I only learnt this year.

[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

my year of boygenius

Why do we listen to music? Is it just melodic noise that provides background to our daily existence or is it a space where we look for meaning, purpose and beauty? This is a false question, as music can be all of these things, but it is so much more. For many people, the beauty of music gives their life meaning, whether listening or creating it. Most of us will have fond memories of listening to the radio in the car or discovering an album that transported us to a seemingly magical place, expanding our understanding of what music could be and do (e.g. Jeff Buckley’s Grace for me).

Growing up in a relatively small town by the Baltic Sea, one of my favourite activities was to go to the seaside in winter, when it was stripped of human presence, sit down on the staircase of a lifeguard’s lookout and listen to the songs on my iPod. Years before that I had a silver cassette player and a CD player that I always carried with me, along with a CD wallet. Music has always been a comforting presence in my life. But even in this rich history, there are certain albums and artists that have had such a transformative impact on my life that they have become part of who I am. There are not many albums that fall into this category, but this year one of them did appear.

In March, 2023 the record had come out, the first full LP from boygenius. As I listened to it for the first time, I knew it was going to embed itself in my brain as I was going to play it again and again and again. I became obsessed with the record and the three women responsible for creating it - Lucy Dacus, Julien Baker and Phoebe Bridgers.

It was like being a teenage girl again, eagerly watching interviews, trying to find out ways in which to watch their Coachella performances and following a fan account that reposted every live video and tour photo imaginable. People always talk about separating art from the artist, but the songs on the record felt so grounded and rooted in familiarity, like they were made by people that felt real and compassionate and vulnerable. In interviews they would talk about books and artists they admired and how they valued each other, and for someone, who has long felt that romantic love should not be valued more than friendship, it felt almost revolutionary to hear that as a foundation of an indie ‘supergroup’s’ ethos.

In August I had a chance to attend Oyafestivalen with my best friend Tina, who had very kindly gifted me a ticket. boygenius were due to play in the early hours of the evening. This was my first time seeing them live.

‘I want to hear your story / And be a part of it’ / boygenius- without you, without them

Making meaningful connections with other people is probably one of the, if not the most, important things you can do with your life. As I stood on a lawn in Oslo and kept bawling my eyes out, I couldn’t help, but end up in existential ponderings about love, loneliness and human connection and the fact that my closest friend was sharing the gig with me. We live thousands of km apart, but I love her loads and appreciate that she’s a part of my life.

‘And it feels good/ To be known so well/ I can’t hide from you / Like I hide from myself’ / boygenius- true blue

After the concert ended, I sat down by a tree to regain my composure, tear streaked cheeks and red eyes, an emotional outpouring and connection that meant so much to me. A few weeks later, I saw them headlining at Gunnersbury Park, this time sharing it with Tina again and my other friend Peter. This experience was less rooted in existential ponderings and more just an overwhelming sense of joy. It was a scorchingly hot day and multiple people fainted, however everyone around helped to get those people taken care of as quickly as possible.

Queer care and joy was ever present in this audience, people had arrived with wonderfully crafted items of clothing or little references to boygenius lyrics on them. Tina and I handed out pink carnations to the younger girls behind us. There is something strange about loving a band, whose audience seems much younger than you are, but maybe the best kind of music manages to reach something within us that is shared, regardless of age.

As the fireworks went up into the dark night sky, I felt so much joy. This time their music had reached the part of me that felt an immense gratitude for being alive and being able to experience such happiness with more than 20’000 people. This performance felt even more explosive and raw, but also funny and deeply meaningful. It seemed that all of us were treating ourselves to some self-belief.

‘will you be a nihilist with me / if nothing matters, man that’s a relief / Solomon had a point when he wrote Ecclesiastes/ if nothing can be known, then stupidity is holy / if the bore becomes a void, we’ll treat ourselves to some self-belief’ / boygenius - Satanist

The last time I saw them live was thanks to Peter, in a small and intimate acoustic set in Kingston. It was another very special experience as the songs had become embedded in my brain and hearing them acoustically felt quite different from the previous shows with a full backing band, here were the three people who were responsible for all those captivating melodies. They embody a vulnerable compassion and a reliance on friendship that feels authentic, and it is wonderful to see creativity blossom from a place of deep love and appreciation for each other.

The record is an album I have grown to love deeply, because it seems to fit whatever mental state I am in. Without You, Without Them for when I want to remind myself of the love I feel for my friends, Cool About It as a reminder that all of have had to play it cool, when someone has hurt us deeply, Not Strong Enough and Anti-Curse for when my mental health lies somewhere in the bottom of the bin. Whatever I am going through, I can find comfort in knowing that the record is there to give me solace and company, whether I am staring at the ceiling or going on a walk around North London.

[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

Būt latvietim ārzemēs

Jau septiņus gadus nedzīvoju Latvijā. Apciemoju tēvzemīti vien pāris reizes gadā un katru reizi, kāpjot lidmašīnā, vēders saraujas čokurā. Mammu vienmēr gribas samīļot ilgāk un ar tēti parunāt vairāk. Ja pirms septiņiem gadiem kāds man būtu teicis, ka es ilgošos pēc mājām, es, droši vien, pasmaidītu un nodomātu, ka es jau nu gan pēc Latvijas neilgošos. Esmu taču pasaules pilsonis, kuram galvenais ir labi cilvēki un sarunas apkārt, viss pārējais ir mazsvarīgs. Tomēr laikam ritot uz priekšu, saprotu, ka nu tik vienkārši nav. 

Šonedēļ iegāju piemājas World Foods veikalā un nopirku zefīrus, vafeļu torti, Laimas saldumus un Selgas piparkūkas. Patriotiskajā gada nedēļā bija vēlme pēc kā latviska mājās. Atnākot mājās izvēlējos noskatīties Limuzīnu Jāņu nakts krāsā, lai gan ir novembris. Uztaisīju melnu tējas tasi un apēdu pāris vafeļu tortes gabaliņus. Citreiz, kad gribas paraudāt, mēdzu YouTube izrakt Dziesmu Svētku video, vai, ja ir vēlme pēc latviešu literatūras, skatos, kas atrodams Elsberga vai Vērdiņa dzejas grāmatās, kuras sēž uz mana Londonas grāmatplaukta.

Es ilgojos pēc saviem brīnišķīgajiem draugiem, kuri vienmēr mani nodrošina ar brīnišķīgām sarunām Aleponijā va Nurmē. Ilgojos pēc iespējas ielekt vilcienā, lai aizdotos uz Ķemeru nacionālo parku vai iespēju aizmīties ar riteni līdz Ventspils pludmalei un baudīt jūras šņākoņu mierīgā vienpatībā, ilgojos pēc Splendid Palace telpām skaista kino baudīšanai.

Esmu deviņdesmito bērns, un Atmodas aizraujošais periods man paskrēja garām, tomēr jo ilgāk esmu prom jo vairāk izjūtu savu latviskumu, savas saknes. Es vārdos īsti nespēju noformulēt konkrētus latvietības kritērijus, tomēr zinu, ka tā ir svarīga manas identitātes sastāvdaļa. Daudz kas ir mainījies kopš deviņdesmitajiem un es ceru, ka Latvija turpinās virzīties iekļaujošākas un atvērtākas sabiedrības virzienā, jo es zinu, ka tas ir iespējams. 18. novembra priekšvakarā gribas ticēt, ka mēs varam turpināt virzīties uz ko labāku un skaistāku. “Pastāvēs kas pārvērtīsies!” Ar tādu cerību arī turpināšu dzīvot.

[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

A love letter to The National

            My love for the National was not a ‘love at first sound’. It grew slowly, but persistently, similar to when you meet someone and find them interesting at first, but with each meeting that follows, you start wishing that they would stay a bit longer. It was 2010, High Violet had come out. I was 16 years old and foolishly thought that the Suburbs was a better album. 13 years later and the Suburbs are nowhere close to being the soundtrack to my existence in the way the National are. The lyrics of Terrible Love even adorn my arm in the form of a tattoo, physically signifying the importance of this American alt-rock band to my simple existence. ‘High Violet…]widened the scope into a grand, literary, moody, sardonic brand of arena rock for a disenchanted generation.’  I had always been drawn to rock music, but the National brought something  else to the table, a reflective and poetic beauty that spoke to me when I was 16 and still speaks to me now. They were grandiose in sound, but not in a cliché tiresome arena rock kind of way. ‘These were anthems made for, and by, people raised to be skeptical of anthems.’

I remember the pleasure of blasting  Sorrow into my ears and singing along to ‘sorrow found me when I was young’, feeling understood as I played ‘Afraid of Everyone’ again and again. Slowly I started to dig around in their discography as tends to happen, when one finds a new musical love. I became obsessed with Boxer. ‘A little more stupid, a little more scared, every minute a bit more unprepared.’ Just seemingly perfect encapsulations of how I felt inside. Creations of associative beauty, capturing these complex, messy and often isolating feelings of existing in a world that is overwhelming, filled with beauty, but is also tiring and loves to swirl you around, even when you are not ready. And you have to make sense of this all-consuming and puzzling existence, even though you didn’t ask to be here.

            2013 was the first time I had a chance to see them live. Me and my friend travelled to London to Alexandra Palace for the Trouble Will Find Me tour. I remember how dreamlike it felt, as over the three years I had fallen deeply for their music and the album became a very beloved LP of 2013. Don’t Swallow the Cap was special, because it articulated the conflicting feelings of loving people oh so much, yet being terrified of being hurt and then somewhere in the midst of it all finding comfort in music. ‘I have only two emotions / Careful fear and dead devotion.’ I do not remember much of the concert, just that the happiness of seeing them live seemed surreal and also just how passionately I felt singing along to Graceless. ‘God loves everybody / Don’t remind me’  Memories of Matt throwing wine high up in the air also cling in some hidden parts of my brain.

            In 2016 I moved to Manchester and they were an always present component of my playlists. Sleep Well Beast came out while I was pursuing my masters. It grew on me more slowly as they had taken their sound in a direction that was more electronic and seemingly darker, more contemplative. Initially didn’t hit me as hard, but as time went on, I listened to it again and again. Their music had become such a comforting presence in my life. Years pass, cities change, I move my belongings from one rented flat to another, partners change, friends left in places once called home, life becomes organised around white-collar jobs that now seem to define everyday existence. ‘You’re pink, you’re young, young middle-class / They say it doesn’t matter’

            Time’s arrow marched forward and I Am Easy to Find came out in 2019. It felt more gentle, the traditional alt-rock sound softening, Matt’s enticing baritone being balanced out by more gentle feminine vocals. The album was accompanied by a beautiful short film, the imagery of which still sits with me. An album that captured a sense of longing as time rushes ahead and you ponder the people who you loved, yet are no longer there. ‘I still fall apart at the sound of your voice.’ I cried seeing them live in 2019 as I heard ‘I’m still waiting for you every night with ticker tape’, as it made me realise how much I desired that for me, yet the inability to see how it would ever come to fruition.

I saw them three times in 2019. Manchester, Brighton and Cologne. Cologne was special as I was able to share it with my best friend Tina. Before the show we shared wine in an Air BnB and then attended the concert together. It was magnificent to share it with someone who shared an understanding of the poetic beauty of the band’s music. Sharing a love for something is often the most beautiful thing, it’s saying ‘I am not alone in this world , you get me’.

I saw them twice in 2022, the second time being a spontaneous on-the-day decision to travel to Manchester to see them,  for the first time I got close enough to the stage that it felt personal and intimate. I had decided to see them a few hours before and it was everything my heart desired. Being in the front of a National show is wonderful as that is where most of the hardcore fans are, and that adds another layer of joy to the experience. You’re all singing your hearts out as Matt shouts into the microphone, for those few hours nothing matters except the music and the release  you feel as you sing with a bunch of strangers. The outside world didn’t exist, all that existed was the world inside the Mayfield Depo.

2023 came and a new album was forthcoming. New Order T-Shirt was a beauty, an encapsulation of how we cling to memories and reminders of people who are no longer in our lives. ‘Glimpses and snapshots of you’ I replayed it again and again and again. Then the album came out. Try as I  might, I wasn’t able to fully embrace it. Was this it? How could they no longer speak to me in ways I was used to? It was like feeling a friendship slip away and not understanding why. But then Laugh Track came out and it was like an amalgamation of everything I loved about them. The guitars, the drums, the lyrics filled with phrases I found captured my most intimate states of being, the melodic build up over the three minutes of Space Invader sending me to heaven. I quickly started searching for a ticket to their second show in London, one would not be enough. Thank God for TicketSwap. Then the week of the concerts came.

            Almost 10 years of me screaming ‘God loves everybody / Don’t remind me’. Same venue. Two nights, two setlists, no repetitions. Communicating with people over Facebook messenger, whose love and dedication exceeds mine. I spent the days of the gigs pondering which shirt to wear, listening to playlists and eager for the work day to end. Blood buzzing and having no idea what the two nights would bring.

            During the Sleep Well beast tour some fans introduced me to a Facebook fan group and since 2017, it has a been a wonderful place to revel in collective joy. Before the September shows I arranged to meet some of the fans in person and attend the show together, it was lovely to talk about albums and our journeys of loving the National. I often think that my emotions towards this American alt-rock band are quite intense, however I feel understood when meeting others from this group. Being at a concert and seeing the excitement as songs from an EP, released in 2004, get played live.  I realised that seeing them this September were the 9th and 10th time of seeing them live, and it had been almost 10 years since seeing them live for the first time, at Alexandra Palace.

            And these shows felt special, kind of hard to explain. Seeing them live feels like an embrace from a friend you hold dear. It’s familiar, comforting, pulsating with life. When the brass section kicks in, there is almost a parade like feel to it all, the drums adding an edge to the performance. They seemed to be reinvigorated, joyous to share the stage as a band, a playfulness to their performance I had not observed before. Aaron and Bryce having prolonged moments of letting their guitar playing expand throughout the venue. Stunning. Especially on Space Invader. The first night ended with the ‘turn-the-audience-into-a-choir’ hit that is Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks. The whole show was  accompanied by Chris Riddell’s live drawings, shown on the big screen, managing to capture the fleeting beauty of those live performances.

            Night two felt different, songs that hadn’t been featured in years. Deep dives I had forgotten existed and that blew me away. Matt’s movements making me thinking of the theatricality of it all.  On night two I succeeded in getting closer to the stage so I experienced the joy of the explosive singing along with others during Graceless and Terrible Love, reaching a body enveloping catharsis state. A different sort of happiness, but one that captured my heart in ways I do not fully understand.

I am a person with an overall positive outlook on life, yet there is an underlying sadness and melancholy to most of human existence, a melancholy embedded in living that is inescapable. Time accelerating as you grow older, moments slipping away to fade into memory, becoming vague recollections as you look back. Those moments of feeling completely unable to communicate, the jumble of emotions your body carries around that linger in the background of your mind. Seeing the people you love and feeling like there is an invisible barrier between you, blurring the ways in which you see each other. A feeling of discomfort that occurs, unprovoked and surprising. When it feels like everyone else has figured life out and can co-exist with others, but you teeter around the edges. Being there, but on the margins. That is what The National embody to me.

[ambiguousthoughtsinsilence]

On Infinite Jest

This book for me is a whole story that relates not only to the book, but also me, my perceptions, how I got hooked on it and how it has made me spend hours online, reading about David Foster Wallace, watching his interviews and wanting to read all of his other work.

The story of my relationship with Infinite Jest starts in the summer of 2015, when I went to Berlin and met Chris, who is one of the most interesting people I have met, and who talks about art, cinema and literature  in ways that make me feel that there is so much I do not know and understand, and that my perception of the world around me is so limited. He recommended so many books to me, but the mentioning of Infinite Jest intrigued me the most. I had heard of it before as the “bro book” – implying that  it’s readership consisted of mostly young males. Then again there are plenty of writers I enjoy, who tend to be put into this category, for example, Kerouac, so this description did not put me off.   So once I got home, I went on Book Depository and ordered Kafka and Wallace. The description of Infinite Jest excited me .A critical look at modern contemporary culture, at the commodification of everyday life, at the consumerism that had become a defining feature of modern age? I was intrigued.

The books arrived and I felt excited. I started with Kafka and read The Trial, which I enjoyed quite a bit. I was happy to finally fully understand what the term kafkaesque meant, rather than use the word without having read any of his work. After that I set the task to myself of reading IJ, while I was in Bulgaria, on my exchange program. I started the book and gave up after about 200 pages - there was so much going on in my life and I understood that you can not let your eyes glance over the pages and read it quickly. So I came back from Bulgaria, without having tackled IJ.

Fast forward to June, 2016, I have obtained a bachelor’s degree in international relations and IJ stood on my bookshelf, still unread. So I decided that this would be THE SUMMER OF READING INFINITE JEST. I started again, determined to push through and read and dedicate time to the book. About 400 pages in it started to click - the beautiful complexity of the language he used, the footnotes that could go on for pages, the characters and their oddities, the precise descriptions of politics and American way of life. It started to come together.

The book for me is about excess of all kinds – about modern obsessions and ways of losing yourself. It is excessive in its writing, but it also makes you get immersed in the book, you cannot really read it on the side , David Foster Wallace makes the reading of itself an experience. I will not try to explain the plot, because I do not really think that it is possible, nor do I think that the plot is the main point of this work of literature. It’s a book that fascinates you and draws you in, but it takes effort. The reason for this, I think, is that Wallace wanted books to be read properly, not superficially.

The story also deals with a lot of modern entertainment and the role of it in people’s lives. The sort of hypnotizing power it can have on people, and how easy it is to become obsessed with it. In a world, where media is around us 24/7, obsession with different types of media is as relevant as ever. It’s a book with several different story lines and one can easily get lost in them, which is why it is so important to follow and pay attention. The book makes you jump between the endnotes and the story, and some of the endnotes literally go on for pages and contain crucial parts of the story.

Even though the book is funny, it is also sad in  sense that it often manages to capture the feelings of  loneliness, desperation and isolation human beings can feel. This feeling of kind of being trapped in your own mind, without really being able to communicate that to anyone.  Wallace’s vivid and extensive descriptions allow the reader to sort of be there, in the moment, with the characters.

Overall the story is strange, complex and remarkable. I think I have not been able to grasp it all with my first read and that I will want to read it again, however now I will need time to be able to process it all in my brain and put it all together.