J. J. AbramsS.

There is no easy way to describe S., the multilayered composite novel experience created by J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorst, but it is undeniably brilliant and an absolute joy to explore. Like Mark Z. Danielewski’s brilliant House of Leaves, it is a book that refuses to be contained within the boundaries of its pages, with multiple levels of narrative that bleed into one another. Even more than House of Leaves, however, S. is a love letter to the physicality of real books as tangible objects, to be held and collected and admired and treasured- there is no way this book could work as an e-book, and that is not just snobbery.The reason for this is that S. is not just a book, but a multimedia artistic experience, a puzzle, and a layered narrative that the physical book itself is just one portion of. In fact, the book included in S. is not itself called S.; it is a book called Ship of Theseus by a man (or perhaps not a man) named V.M. Straka (except that may not be his real name). The book itself is weathered, and appears to have come from a public library, complete with a filing sticker on the spine and a stamped check out/return page in the back cover. From the “Translator’s Note and Forward” at beginning of the book we learn that Ship of Theseus was the final novel written by an enigmatic but prolific writer named V.M. Straka, whose true identity remained a mystery to all but a very few people- in this it seems Straka was at least partially based on B. Travens, author of Treasure of the Sierra Madre, whose true identity has never been uncovered. Straka was a literary genius, and his novels are full of symbolism and allusion that imbues his works with layers of meaning and opinion depending on the interpretation of the reader, much like Moby Dick. Luckily for us, the book is footnoted and annotated by the translator, F.X. Caldeira, which adds the second level to this metanarrative, as there is quite a bit of thoughtful interpretation and discourse by Caldeira, who appears to be nearly as enigmatic as Straka.Ship of Theseus, amazing enough, can stand on its own two feet even if it was the true story being told here. Someday I plan to read the novel by itself and ignore all of the other extraneous material and see what sort of literary takeaway I get. I will avoid spoilers, but at its barest essence, Ship of Theseus is about a man who is suffering from amnesia, who goes by the name of “S,” because when he woke up his only possession was a slip of paper with an ornate letter “S” written on it. He ends up shanghaied on the eponymous ship, whose terrifying and almost bestial crew seem to know something about him, and who often disappear below the decks to take part in some sort of secretive ritual. I won’t reveal any more of the plot, but it is very engaging and well written. In any event, this is the book you are reading, not S.This is because the physical book itself is only one part of the narrative. As previously mentioned, the annotations and footnotes by FXC make up another layer of the story, imposing a fictional literary universe that places the book in its conceptual parameters. The third layer is provided by handwritten notes in the margin in (at least) two different hands and five different colors of ink, in which two readers of the book are keeping up an ongoing correspondence. Eric is a disgraced university student who is obsessed with V.M. Straka and believes that clues to the author’s identity is hidden within Ship of Theseus- his original notes are written in pencil in the margins, and he has underlined certain passages. Since he is no longer a student at the college where the book was housed, he could not check it out anymore, but continues to study the book’s mysteries. Jen is a current student at the college who is also studying Ship of Theseus, and discovers Eric’s obsessive but brilliant notes. Realizing that they are ongoing, she “replies” to Eric’s notes, sparking an ongoing conversation between the two. Besides their different handwriting, Jen’s initial notes are in blue ink, Eric’s in black. Together they begin to try to tease out the book’s secrets. They make multiple passes through the book over the course of years, and the changing colors of ink mark the passage of time. In their second pass through the book, Jen writes in orange ink, Eric in green. Their third pass is marked by Jen writing in purple, Eric in red. Their final pass is the books “epilogue,” discussing strange events that have transpired for both of them, and both are written in black ink. And at certain times, notes are left by an unidentified third party who seems to be closely watching the pair and following their research.In addition to their notes, Jen and Eric are continuing their research in the “real world,” as represented by a number of very cool physical artifacts that are included in the book. These include computer printouts, personal letters written on university letterhead, postcards, newspaper clippings, notes written on napkins, handwritten letters, and even decryption wheel, to name but a few. These are part of the third level of the narrative between Jen and Eric, but add a level of physical reality and verisimilitude to the story. What it reminds me most of is the Griffin and Sabine “correspondences,” by Nick Bantock, a love story told entirely through handmade postcards, notes, and other creative physical notes and artifacts. But in S. these are more than just a nifty layer to the metanarrative. In many cases they are clues necessary to unravel the book’s many secrets. Because beyond the mystery of Straka’s identity and the relationship growing between Eric and Jen, there also seems to be a shadowy force that is watching the pair, and actively trying to keep them from unravelling the mystery, somehow tied to Straka, F.X. Caldiera, and the greater mystery of the enigma surrounding the author.The fourth and final layer of the narrative is the actual real world, for which you, the reader, are the cipher. You are not only reading Straka’s novel, FXC’s annotations and clues, and Jen and Eric’s attempts to unlock the puzzle posed by both, but are also being provided with clues that spill out into the real world, in particular the internet. There are names, companies, phone numbers, the names of cafés and other establishments mentioned by Jen and Eric, and so on that if searched for on the internet bring you to websites that provide you with further clues and take you deeper into the conspiracy. I must admit that while I find this both interesting and charming, I have not spent much time on this level of the narrative. While it is neat, and very much indicative of J.J. Abram’s influence on this level of the narrative, I just don’t have this kind of time to spend on a single novel, no matter how interesting it is.The nice thing is that even though this is a metanarrative on a number of levels, the whole thing is strong enough to stand on its own. Ship of Theseus stands on its own, but S. as a multimedia experience is the sum total of every level of the narrative. As of yet, I have only really experienced S. as contained within the physical boundaries of the book (which, by the way, comes within a slipcover that is sealed with a strip of paper, so that none of the materials inside can fall out, which is marked with J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorst’s names, along with the picture of a capuchin monkey. Once you break that seal, the S. experience begins). Even without the viral marketing internet mystery level of the narrative, the first three layers of the metanarrative work perfectly well on their own- the fourth layer just makes the work open ended and tantalizingly ambiguous. I don’t think the ultimate “answer” to the enigma of S. is really out there on the internet, meaning it is a mystery without a solution and without an end. But that is okay, because in this case, the fun of the whole experience is in the journey, not the destination.

This is probably the most unique reading experience I’ve had in a long time. Rather than a traditional novel, S. is presented as an old copy of the fictional book “Ship of Theseus” by “VM Straka” from 1949. The book has a period appropriate cover design, and is faux-aged to look like an old library book, complete with old stamps, yellowed pages, and even fake stains. The margins of the book are filled with the “handwritten” notes of two previous readers, Jen and Eric; the ink colors change with time, and there are even smudges and cross-outs. Tucked into the pages are various documents including photocopies, photos, letters, postcards, and (my personal favorite) an actual napkin with a “hand-drawn” map. The attention to detail is absolutely amazing, and the story is pretty good too.“Ship of Theseus” itself is the meandering, surreal story of a man, “S”, who find himself washed up in an unnamed city with no memory or knowledge of his identity. He is soon shanghaied aboard a creepy ship with no apparent captain and a strange crew whose members have sewn their mouths shut. When S. tries to escape the ship, he is then caught up in a struggle against the corrupt Vevoda, a business magnate with an unstoppable weapon of mass destruction.The margin notes tell the story of two readers trying to unravel the mystery surrounding the reclusive author VM Straka, and his apparent involvement in major historical events. Jen, a college senior, finds the copy of “Ship of Theseus” left behind in the college library by Eric, a disgraced graduate student. Seeking an escape from her impending graduation and recent breakup, Jen begins delving into the Straka mystery, corresponding with Eric in the margins of the book. As the two uncover more information about the mysterious Straka, they find themselves possibly drawn into a conflict decades and maybe even centuries old.Jen and Eric’s story jumps around a bit, as the notes are not always in chronological order. Some details and events are also only alluded to, leaving the reader to fill in some of the gaps. There are, however, additional codes in the book to solve, and in-universe websites, so the story doesn’t necessarily end with what’s in the book.The reading order is completely open, but I found it easiest to start by reading through “Ship of Theseus” on its own, then going back and reading the margin notes. The ink colors denote different time periods; Jen’s notes start out in blue ink, with Eric’s responses in black. The second set are in orange and green, the third in purple and red, and the most recent all in black. It’s probably best to read all the earlier, blue and black notes first, then going back and approaching each set in turn. The inserts are mentioned in text by Jen and Eric at their appropriate points in the story; it helped me to make a list of the insert locations beforehand, so I could easily find the appropriate document.S. is just a lot of fun, and is a must read for anyone who likes unique, experimental reads.