I know that the experience we take from all novels will always be the product of the efforts of both the author and the reader, but somehow, when describing and discussing that experience, we mostly seem able to emphasize the author’s contribution slightly more. With Christopher Barzak’s The Love We Share Without Knowing however I find myself unable to achieve that distancing. The emotions and feelings it unleashed in me are too directly related to my own private experiences of loss and mortality, of urban loneliness and displacement. I cannot hold Mr. Barzak accountable for that torrent, no, I’d rather thank him for his sensitive narrative and tone that rang true to the core of my being. It was a cleansing experience and was completely mine.
The Love We Share Without Knowing is a hauntingly beautiful novel.