The infidels in High Fidelity. A novel for thirty-somethings by Nick Hornby.
Imagine being a 36 year old man, never married, now single since your missus left and running a failing business. Your parents are always on your back about when you’re going to find a missus and marry the said missus. You’ve got friends that you can count with one hand, and it’s likely that some of these if not all of these so called friends work with you and you’re not sure if you’re gonna be friends with them if you’re not working together.
By this time your ambitions are probably dead. Maybe at some point in time you’d have big dreams: big house, big money, pretty wife and even prettier kids, but somewhere along the line, you went a bit off track and you haven’t really recovered. Now you run a record store with the so.-called mates obsessed with music and really, have nothing much else happening in their lives. Not that you’ve got a lot going on either. Then there’s the sex, sex, sex on your mind. Not even good sex, bad sex, just sex.
Running a record store isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but we all know that.
Welcome to the world of Rob Fleming, running a failing record store and just recently dumped by the missus. We start off with Rob listing his top 5 breakups, from the time that he first had romantic experiences since he was a kid. His last missus Laura, who he seems to be addressing his words for, doesn’t even feature in this list and he makes a point of that.
He’s not over the breakup obviously. Laura’s left to (it seems) screw his former upstairs neighbour, who has the reputation of being a bit of a wild man from the noises he’d make upstairs at night. He’d meet an American singer in a pub, and would play a cat and mouse game with her as he navigates through this innuendo. He even managed to sleep with her. But all along, he’s still trying to convince Laura to get back together with him, to the point that he’d call her at work, call her at home and stalk around her new residence.
Yep, things seems to be going alright for Rob. In all this time, we get to read his introspections about his life, about music, about family and everything in between.
The wrong side of thirty-five and the not-so-right side of life
It’s like looking at the mirror, but not quite. I’m a couple of years older than Rob, I’ve never been married and I’ve never had kids. My sex life swings in and out like offside spin in the subcontinent. My parents used to harangue me about getting married, but I’d like to think that they’ve given up on that idea. But instead of a failing business, I’ve got a nice job with pretty cool colleagues; I don’t smoke or drink very much at all; I’m not obsessed with music (though I’m always gonna be mad obsessed about books); and in general I’m pretty well content.
I think the last one is the main difference here. All throughout the book, even at the end where Rob seems to have found some sort of form of second wind, there is still a sense of discontentment; that things are still ain’t right but he’d just still need to make do. And I think ultimately that for the lack of choice, Rob had to compromise with his choices. When he got back together with Laura at the end, they came to a mutual realisation that all things considered, that their relationship is probably the best that they’re going to get.
Rob’s second wind, in going back to being a DJ seems to be a regression instead of progression. In a way, there is a quiet nihilism inherent throughout the novel. None of these adults are satisfied, they are all grappling with their own sense of taste and what’s worse, imposing their own tastes on others, such as the customers who would purchase records who they’d despise and belittle any chance they’d get. None of the characters, thus are very much likeable, yet they are grounded on what we know as many thirty-something year olds.
It is however, their taste, manifested in the tope five lists they’d conjure up which will define their individualities: their “self” if you will. Rob’s top five breakups are on par with his list of top five records of all time which he struggled to construct at the end of the novel. He treated this list more carefully and more diligently than he would his business finances, as this list would define him.
Baudrillard in his System of Objects would condemn modern day consumerism as we surround ourselves with objects which would define us, and how we logically place these objects in our minds (as we do in lists) will in turn, define who we are. Likewise, Rob with his superficial lists are constantly re-working and re-defining himself, though in reality he is only truly procrastinating (as are his mates). The songs on his lists are no better than consumeristic goods, borrowed by the listener to profess a particular feeling or emotion.
So, he becomes a DJ again, big whoop. And he gets the girl again. But has he really moved anywhere and has there been much of a personal growth after all his introspection? I don’t think the dial has really moved around much. It’s a strange book, where perhaps the style trumps over substance, and though many label the work as a modern classic, I struggle to see how.
