Sometimes I’m so taken by the synopsis of a book that I read a few pages and then buy it without looking at any reviews. At times this experiment is successful and I find a gem I might not have otherwise known about.
Other times, however, it’s like only walking around the store once when you try on a pair of shoes—you don’t experience the discomfort until you’ve done a little more walking. And in this case, the book’s quirks weren’t evident until I got about 20 pages in, and I had already bought the shoes, umm, book.
In The Hearing Test, a young artist awakes one morning with “a deep drone in my right ear accompanied by a sound I can best compare to a large piece of sheet metal being rocked, a perpetually rolling thunder.” At first she thinks she might have water in her ear after a swim. But the doctors quickly diagnose her with Sudden Deafness, as she had lost low-end hearing.
This news throws her for a loop. The doctors don’t believe she’ll regain her hearing, and in fact, this could be a sign of a larger problem which might ultimately result in profound deafness. But while this is certainly worrying, she is determined not to let herself obsess over what might happen.
The book is essentially a record of her year—the interesting and the mundane things that occur. Many times it’s her recounting conversations she had with random people, conversations with so many extraneous details it’s like talking to a friend who is prone to veer off topic and onto other paths. It’s also a reflection on her happinesses and disappointments, her fears and triumphs.
Most of the book is told in a stream-of-consciousness style, without context for what the author shares. (Also, conversations are reflected with no quotation marks.) I think this was beautifully written—the language was so evocative—but it was mostly over my head. Ah, well…
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