The Somnambulist's Dreams by Lars Boye Jerlach Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Everything is never what it seems, but sometimes what you see, is so obvious that you cannot make sense of it.”- The Somnambulist's Dreams

A lighthouse keeper on the coast of New England discovers a small collection of seemingly deranged writings that have been left behind by his somnambulant predecessor. When he begins to read them, he swiftly becomes an unwitting participant in a nebulous narrative that not only defies time and space, but brings into question his own sanity.

Being from New England, lighthouses hold a special place in my heart. While I love all varieties of lighthouse, I admit my favorites are the ones on some small, rocky island off the coast of or seemingly in the middle of the ocean. Whenever I see a picture of one or pass by one in a boat, I like to imagine the people who lived and worked there, maybe even families, and wonder what drove them out there to essentially live a life of solitude.

Of course, I'm being romantic about it. Realistically, I know the life of a lighthouse keeper couldn't have been much fun. Being away from everyone else, a slave to the light, only company maybe a cat or dog and the passing ships. Having to wait for supplies every month or every two months, etc. I don't think I would have enjoyed that kind of life, myself.

And yet, any book that has to do with lighthouses I usually end up picking up (except The Light Between Oceans, funny enough, maybe that's because it seems like one of those novels in the Women's Fiction category alongside My Sister's Keeper or The Memory Keeper's Daughter). This book was no exception. A bunch of odd writings detailing the deranged dreams of the old lighthouse keeper? I never clicked buy so quickly.

And it was exactly what it was advertised as. From the first letter I was hooked. I enjoyed the trips I took in the grief twisted mind of Enoch Soule, and in particular had fun guessing where or who was in each dream of his. Some I got right away, like Poe or Bowie, but others I had to guess at a bit more. For instance, I can't tell whether the artist who did the chessboard is Marcel Duchamp (of the signed urinal fame) or Rene Magritte. I thought it might be Duchamp, because of the bicycle wheel on the stool, but then he said "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" which is Magritte. I don't know. I admit, I'm not as versed in this area of art history as I should probably be (though I am a casual admirer of Magritte's work- of course, I just like surrealism. Duchamp, on the other hand, loses me).

The writing is very Scandinavian. Even without a name like Lars, I could tell he was from somewhere up north. It reminded me a lot of the writing in Wolf Winter, a very simplistic, almost cold style of prose. It eventually grew on me, though was jarring after the last few books I read, which were all very purple. My favorite by far was the contrast between the simple sentences (he did this, he did this, then he did this) and the fanciful narrative of the dreams. By doing this, Jerlach exemplified the contrast between the unnamed lighthouse keeper's rather mundane regular routine and the dreams without ever telling us. 

I mean, there is some flaws. For one, the book feels self-published. I don't like self-published books because I believe strongly in the importance of an editor. It's not self-published and it is well-edited, but still. Just a pet peeve of mine. Also, the word "somnambulist" or some variation of the word appeared in the text too many times. Of course, these flaws are all just little things that bug me, and YMMV.

I would go more into the plot, but I went into this book mostly blind and ended up enjoying it more for it. This is one of those books best discovered and interpreted by oneself. So pick this one up one night, maybe put Space Oddity on in the background, and enjoy your trip in the mind of Enoch Soule.

8-8.5 out of 10