The analogue revival is driven by people wanting to be active rather than passive consumers. The more they engage in the work required by analogue technologies, the more control they gain in shaping their desired experiences – first by learning the rules, then in their skilled application, and then, ultimately, in breaking the rules, generating happy accidents to be shared with like-minded others.
This curious, yet deeply creative, behaviour captures the imagination. Yet as Jean Clottes – a prominent Palaeolithic art researcher – succinctly put it, the key unanswered question for us all is: ‘Why did they draw in those caves?’
So, I could end this review by calling Tóibín a keen moral philosopher, but I’ll end it instead with the better compliment of calling him a great novelist who has written another wonderful book.
This exquisite account of the repercussions of the tiniest turn of fate can go only one way; and if the conclusion is all wrapped up a bit too quickly, given the methodical way we get there, it doesn’t matter much, as the pleasure lies mainly in the journey.
Stare at your crazy nails, Crampton subtextually urges. Ponder your pores. We’re all so weird and wonderful in ways that can’t be quantified.