One of life's greatest challenges is reconciling individual perceptions and memories of the world with the world as it truly exists. James Sim (one wonders if the author had the word "simulacrum" in mind), the main narrator of Jesse Ball's mesmerizing first novel, Samedi the Deafness, and a mnemonist by profession, confronts this disparity head-on after unwillingly hearing a dying man's cryptic remarks concerning a cultish conspiracy with undefined ambitions. Unable to ignore what he's heard, James allows a series of odd incidents to become a trail of breadcrumbs and soon finds himself as a guest in the home of the man he suspects is masterminding the doomsday plot. James spends the rest of the book at this home communing with other "guests," who provide him with contradictory explanations for the unfamiliar surroundings and unique experiences. On top of this, James expends considerable time investigating his surroundings, snooping around like an amateur detective, albeit one with a perfect memory. Thus, the facts, as James sees and hears them, don't always add up to a coherent whole, and his impeccable memory only succeeds in exposing minor points of confusion in the glaring sunlight.

The book vacillates between two versions of reality. In one, James has stumbled upon a dangerous plot that's motivated by what the conspirators consider dire socio-economic conditions (chronic lying and the injustice it wreaks on the lower classes); in the other, he's simply stumbled upon an eccentric retreat set up to help individuals with a particular mental illness (again, chronic lying). Relying to a fault on memories of his experiences in the house, James trusts others and makes quick deductions about the true nature of the house and the "plot" — all despite being told, at one point, "A man goes to live in the kingdom of foxes and he survives only by believing that which is not told him."

By putting James at the mercy of those who already know the truth, Ball suggests that no truth worth knowing is gained by being merely smart and curious — more often than not, it's gained only if someone else wants and needs you to know it. Pitting perceptions against reality, Ball seems to confirm the obvious fact we often, and perhaps wisely, ignore: competing versions of reality cannot merge into one, and yet will always coexist.

-Tom Roberge