21 Jul Unveiling Secrets: A Journey Through the Art of Writing in “Things I Don’t Want to Know”
A Journey Through Words: A Review of Things I Don’t Want to Know: On Writing by Deborah Levy
As a lifelong reader and aspiring writer, I often find myself enchanted by the craft of storytelling. When I stumbled upon Deborah Levy’s Things I Don’t Want to Know, it felt like a serendipitous hug from a kindred spirit. Levy, a two-time Booker Prize finalist, invites readers into her world with a warmth and wit that is both disarming and invigorating. This book, responding to George Orwell’s essay "Why I Write," reeled me in as I sought to understand the nuances of a female writer’s perspective in a world that often sidelines women’s voices.
From the very first page, Levy weaves a poignant tapestry of experiences that shape her understanding of writing, love, and loss. The non-linear narrative, which flits between her childhood in apartheid South Africa, teenage years in the UK, and adult experiences across Europe, becomes a fascinating exploration of identity and place. I found her reflections on motherhood and womanhood particularly resonant; they evoked the struggles many women face in balancing personal lives with careers. It’s almost like Levy is holding up a mirror—reflecting the fears and dreams that every writer, especially women, grapples with.
Levy’s writing style is captivating—fluid and sometimes dreamlike, almost reminiscent of a stream of consciousness. She speaks in a way that makes you feel seen, pulling you into her memories and inviting you to navigate complex themes alongside her. In one moment, she recounts a vivid memory of returning to Majorca, filled with both nostalgia and uncertainty, and in the next, she offers a snapshot of a soldier’s tender farewell to the women in his life during a time of crisis. Each vignette is laced with a sense of urgency and depth, urging readers to question what it means to be a writer in a world rife with contradictions.
One quote that lingered with me was, “It is the stories we don’t want to tell that we must tell.” This idea resonates deeply, especially in a culture that often demands curated narratives. Levy masterfully emphasizes the significance of vulnerability and honesty, revealing that it’s in those uncomfortable truths that the heart of storytelling lies.
What I appreciated most about Levy’s work is that it transcends traditional writing manuals. Instead, it’s a personal exploration, a “living autobiography” that draws you in, making you ponder your own stories and struggles. Fans of literary memoirs and those seeking a fresh perspective on the writing life will undoubtedly find a kindred spirit in Deborah Levy.
In conclusion, if you’re looking for a thought-provoking journey through the intricacies of identity, writing, and experience, Things I Don’t Want to Know is a must-read. It will resonate with writers, readers, and anyone who has ever grappled with the weight of their story in a world that often seeks to silence them. It certainly left me reflecting on my own narrative, reminding me that every story, no matter how small, holds immense value.
You can find Things I Don’t Want to Know: On Writing here >>
