Sabrina

Definition of anomie

: social instability resulting from a breakdown of standards and values

also : personal unrest, alienation, and uncertainty that comes from a lack of purpose or ideals

To state the inevitable: I wouldn't have been prompted to read Nick Drnaso's Sabrina if it hadn't been longlisted for the Man Booker Prize – not because I'd outright refuse to read a graphic novel, but because it would never have been on my radar – and while I'm not some highbrow snob who would snootily insist that, “Comic books aren't literature, dahling,” I have to admit that I'm conflicted about this work's inclusion on the longlist; wasn't it just a couple of years ago that we were handwringing about All That Man Is (a book of thematically linked short stories) and debating whether or not that constituted a “novel” in the sense that we expect the Booker to acknowledge? In addressing the question of Sabrina, Kwame Anthony Appiah (chairman of the Man Booker Prize jury) asserts, “The impact of this is the same you have from any great work of fiction. You think, ‘Wow! I’ve gone through experiences here. I’ve been made to ask questions and feel emotions.’” And Appiah is exactly right: I was deeply affected by this story – in word and image – and think that it perfectly captures, illustrates if you will, our moment in time; our fundamental anomie. There's nothing lightweight about this effort (and if Maus could be awarded a Pulitzer, I can hardly call Drnaso's Booker nod unprecedented); whether or not Sabrina ultimately wins the prize, I am delighted to have been led to read it.

The barest, spoiler-free overview: As the book opens, we meet the 27-year-old Sabrina herself – visiting with her sister while catsitting for their parents – and the sisters' doughy appearance and slightly stilted, superficial conversation sets the tone for all that follows; if this relationship isn't warm and animated, what genuine connections can others hope to form? The scene shifts and we meet Calvin (a boundary technician at the Department of Defense; someone who monitors weaknesses in computer networks) as he picks up his long-lost friend, Teddy, from the airport. As these two have a mostly silent and awkward reunion, we learn that Teddy is Sabrina's boyfriend; and Sabrina has gone missing. As time passes, the media pounces on the missing woman story, and while Teddy loses himself to a bombastic Alex Jones-type radio personality who insists that the story is a government hoax intended to keep the population under control through fear, Calvin can't help but be fascinated by how the story develops online; even as he, himself, is accused of being a crisis actor and starts to receive death threats. It's surreal to see panels of Teddy – sprawled listlessly on a child's bed in his tighty whities – listening to ugly conspiracy theories about his own life on the radio, while in the next room, Calvin sits up in his own bed, giving pageviews to online stories that he knows are false and hurting real people:

From Calvin needing to skype with the four-year-old daughter his wife has moved away with, through the convenience store clerk who is so distracted by her phone that she doesn't see Calvin approach with his purchases, to the entire office of IT guys at the Air Force Base surfing the web for good stories when they're supposed to be protecting the country from cyberattack, there's something about the graphic novel format that allows these moments of interpersonal disconnection to run in the background without hitting you over the head with the point. And all of the panels of awkward silence between people sitting together, broken with the occasional “Mm” in answer to a direct question, made me feel really uncomfortable; I had a constant physical reaction to this book. With its foreground of conspiracy theories, fake news, and comment trolling, I have to admit that Sabrina absolutely captures something of our moment; and it ain't pretty; it's anomie. There are so many intriguing and thoughtful moments that I'd like to comment on, but I do want to leave this spoiler-free, so my bottom line is: I don't know if I'd be happy if Sabrina won the Booker, but I am very happy to have read it.

Man Booker Longlist 2018:

Snap by Belinda Bauer

Milkman by Anna Burns

Sabrina by Nick Drnaso

Washington Black by Esi Edugyan

In Our Mad And Furious City by Guy Gunaratne

Everything Under by Daisy Johnson

The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner

The Water Cure by Sophie Mackintosh

Warlight by Michael Ondaatje

The Overstory by Richard Powers

The Long Take by Robin Robertson

Normal People by Sally Rooney

From A Low And Quiet Sea by Donal Ryan

I just barely squeaked in reading the Man Booker Prize shortlist this year - after having to order half the titles from England - and I really don't know if any of them stand out to me as "a real Booker winner to stand the test of time". In order purely of my own reading enjoyment, I'd rank the shortlist:

The Long Take
Washington Black
The Mars Room
Everything Under
The Overstory
Milkman 

* The prize was eventually won by Milkman, my least favourite of the shortlist, so what do I know? *