Friends Like These

Before traveling to Britain, I had no idea who Danny Wallace was. Indeed, I didn't know anything about the book until I was making my way back to my friend's R.M.'s house in Charlton (near London): there was a poster of the book plastered on the side of some building (or maybe it was a bus), and I read the subtitle: "How far would YOU go to get the old gang back together?" This subtitle piqued my attention because I felt that - having lived in several different countries, lost touch with some good friends over the years, and having just celebrated by 32nd birthday - the idea of getting the "old gang" back together was something that I could relate to; a yearning that I have had in the past that led me first to Friendster, MySpace, and Bebo, and leading (now) to Facebook, and connecting (even just today) with friends - both close and casual - from different periods of my past.

The book describes in first-person narrative, the travels of Danny Wallace as he goes to find and meet up with the twelve people who were the most important to him growing up. (So important, in fact, that they were the only ones that made it into his special address book.) It's a trip not only of rediscovery, but also of approaching, inevitable adulthood taking him from London to Loughborough, Berlin, LA, Melbourne, Tokyo and Dundee in order to find the people who were the most significant to him.

I still don't really know much about Danny Wallace, but after reading his book Friends Like These, I think I know more about him. Similar to his mother, I know that mine is holding boxes in the crawlspace in their house full of my "stuff" from school (she has other boxes of my brother's stuff, too). There are yearbooks full of people I haven't seen or really thought about in years (decades in some cases).

The book took place in 2006, and now - three years later - some of the events seem haunting. The recent death of Michael Jackson was juxtaposed quite strangely in my head as I read all the references to MJ in the book, for who could deny that Jackson was a major cultural figure to people born in the late 1970s, like Danny and me. Still, learning about Danny's journeys two weeks after the death of the King of Pop was somewhat haunting, since it seemed like - for a moment - two realities existed simultaneously: the reality of the book (taking place in an indefinite "present") where Danny ends up going to a Michael Jackson concert with one of his old friends (sorry for the spoiler) and the reality of (well) reality.

Another thing that the book did for me was make me start to realize that I, too, am growing older. The book depicts events leading up to Danny's 30th birthday in 2006. It is now 2009, and I just celebrated my 32nd, learning yet more about myself and the connections I have to my own friends from my undergraduate studies in St Andrews. Time flies when you're having fun, and yet (and yet) it is with only a certain few that robust connections - no matter how thin - remain. However, although these connections are thin, their strength allows one to build stronger bridges upon them - a network of connections holding together that social fabric against which we identify ourselves.

This book may not be for everyone. Indeed, I think that Danny's voice is very strong in the book (it is, after all, written in the first person about personal events and personal thoughts), and it may not be for everybody. It might be difficult - for example - to identify with a man who grew up in different parts of the UK and Europe with friends from a similarly diverse background. It might be difficult, too, understand some of the cultural references or significances of certain types of statements about pubs, mates, and display cushions. However, if you are a kind of person who is interested and trying to reconnect with childhood friends (even passively through online "social networking" sites like Facebook), then this book might just be for you.

(Also, as a person who lived in Japan, his chapters about finding his friend in Japan, and his experiences in Tokyo and outside it, had me cracking up with laughter. But then again, most Westerners' takes on the "bizarre" nature of Japan - Tokyo in particular - often seem to be quite humorous to me, since I am able - I believe - to see both sides of that Lost in Translation coin.)