The Man Who Saw Everything

Is The Man Who Saw Everything about a young man who nearly gets run over by a car?
Is The Man Who Saw Everything about a Beatles' conspiracy theory?
Is The Man Who Saw Everything about the British withdrawal from the European Union?
Is The Man Who Saw Everything about gender roles?
Is The Man Who Saw Everything about Socialism and the Berlin Wall?
Is The Man Who Saw Everything about an artist's representation of reality?
I don't have an answer to any of these questions. And unless Deborah Levy herself says what The Man Who Saw Everything is about, I'm not sure I'll ever know.

Strangely, it seems possible that all of these theories (and more) could be true. The Man Who Saw Everything is one of those books that only supplies more questions the deeper one looks. In fact, to best understand this book, it may be best to not think at all (though I don't think that would make for as enjoyable a read). Undoubtedly, Levy is playing with perceptions of time and reality in this story. What is established as fact early on grows blurred in later chapters. Reader, you may not know what is going on in this novel.

That may dissuade some readers from reading this novel, and that's probably okay. Some readers will never enjoy a book that doesn't provide clear answers. For those who find thrill in trying to piece everything together (whether or not they ever finish the puzzle) this book is a wild ride and well worth the experience.

It's difficult to say much more about this novel—perhaps I've already said too much. The Man Who Saw Everything is clever and mysterious. It's a stylish novel, even if many of its allusions may be elusive. It's every part entertaining as it is intelligent. Perhaps the puzzle could've been a little easier to solve—personally, I like to feel like I have a solution, even if that answer is wrong—but the pleasure in trying to fit the pieces together still provided considerable entertainment.

Advanced copy received from the publisher through Edelweiss