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Saturday, January 6, 2024

Review of Wish I Was Here by M. John Harrison

M. John Harrison has always been an author apart. Sure, he has books which seem straightforward, but closer examination reveals not everything is as it seems. His Viriconium sequence begins on what one might describe as core genre, but three books later, via impressionism and cubism, the reader has arrived at something abstract—fiction anything but genre. Harrison's 2023 (anti-)memoir Wish I Was Here is a look back at his life, muse, the writing “process”, and left-field observations. It may just be the culmination of everything Harrison.

As the title indicates, Harrison sees himself at a distance. Wish I Was Here manifests itself in both life and fiction. He writes openly of “The fight not to be a writer.", as well as strong desire to exist outside the norm.

I hate concepts. Having a concept isn’t having something to write: having something to write about is having something to write. Never favour plot. Story is fine, but plot is like chemical farming. Closure is wrong. It is toxic. Work into a genre if you like, but from as far outside it as possible. Read as much about Hollywood formalism as you can bear, so you know what not to do.”

It's the classic “artist” in some ways—the pain of creation, absurdity of existence, etc. Camus would be proud.

In discussing his muse, Harrison introduces an idea in existence since his childhood: map boy. Not muse in the typical sense, for Harrison it's a natural experience, of being outside, in nature, and observing, letting the eyes and ears wander. These outdoor experiences then indirectly feed a thought process which acts as a kind of gestalt experience not unlike daydreams, daydreams which may or may not eventually result in ideas for fiction. Trust me, it's better to let Harrison explain.

For readers tuning in to Harrison's memoir looking for proper biographical details, they are few and far between. Harrison does recount an experience or memory here and there, but they are rarely what one would call formative or inflecting. Wish I Was Here is the opposite of anything that might sniff at 'bare all' or 'tell all'. What is recounted is typically more quotidian in nature—a desk, a kitchen, a garden, a cat, etc.

Wish I Was Here has a fascinating cadence and lilt. Like Thelonious Monk, the diction plays a tune but constantly uses notes, good but off-key notes, notes you don't expect but which play a toe tapping song. Commenting on his own lack of desire to fit in an established groove, Harrison writes: “I’d rather pile up real facts to reveal something evidently unreal than pile up invented facts to make something unreal seem real.” And yet he makes the fiction work.

I am a fan of auto/biographies; I read one or two per year. But always of people whose lives seem niche or interesting—Ghandi, The Feather Thief, Oleg Gordievsky, etc. M. John Harrison has not lived what one might typically call an interesting life. If anything, he is a curmudgeon with an extraordinary talent for writing. Humans are social animals, but there are people who like to keep a toe in the pool of society while others want neck deep. Harrison wants a toenail. But Wish I Was Here is filled with exceedingly interesting writing. Harrison is an immaculate stylist and his view to fiction is the opposite of ordinary.

I have written more than a thousands reviews on this blog, from fiction to non-fiction. But Wish I Was Here is the first book I had to stop and think which of those two broad categories I needed to post this review. I will ultimately settle on non-fiction, but would-be reader be aware that this book often exists in the interstices between those two poles. And so while Harrison himself puts the word 'memoir' on the cover, the answers to the questions: What is writing? What is existence? What is storytelling? are the opposite of direct. The memoir is therefore an acute angle - not anti-social, rather niche, specific. People who muse existentially may find a kindred spirit.

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