Nothing but the truth

There's such a thing as being too connected, you know, especially when it comes to relationships. Relationships need less communication, not more.

Connie Willis, Crosstalk

Part science fiction, part paranormal fantasy, part romantic comedy, Connie Willis's entertaining 2016 novel Crosstalk may more than anything be a satire on contemporary culture's desire for connection, preferably through technology rather than by people actually talking to one another. The lines above spoken early in the novel by C.B. Schwartz, one of the main characters, would seem to summarize the author's own view: Communication, like most other things, is best used in moderation.

Briddey Flannigan, like C.B., works for a company in the competitive smartphone industry. She and her boyfriend, Trent, have decided to each get an EED, an implant in the brain that supposedly allows lovers to communicate their emotions to one another even at a distance. Almost instantly everyone in the company finds out about their plan, and C.B., a scruffy young man who hides out in the frigid basement, tries to discourage her. She goes ahead with the operation anyway, but instead of being connected to Trent, she finds herself connected to C.B. And it's not just their feelings that are shared, but virtually every thought the two of them have.

You might not think Willis could possibly sustain this farce for 500 pages, as comic novels, like movie comedies, usually work best when relatively short, but somehow she does. The complications keep coming and coming. If some of them are predictable -- you know C.B. and Briddey will fall in love and that Trent is up to no good -- most of them will surprise most readers.

I will close with another C.B. Schwartz quote, my favorite: "If people really wanted to communicate, they'd tell the truth, but they don't."