I have been meaning to read Lexi Seiden’s New York Times bestselling debut novella Literal Nonsense for years now. I missed out on the initial release and decided to wait for the print version instead. I figured I should make a day out of the read and I also knew that I would likely need to be of sound mind and sound body. After finishing graduate school last week, I finally had the perfect circumstances for the undertaking.
We all have that one friend whose brain should be studied. Spending 10 minutes within their mind, amongst their thoughts, could either be transcendentally awe-inspiring or deeply traumatic. As this book promised to be a journey through Lexi’s mind, I prepared myself for both.
I sat in my chair by the window, watered my newly purchased flowers and lit my Le Labo candle. Little did I know that setting my lighter on the nearby table would be the last thing I had control over for the following 45 minutes. From the first page, I realized that I was in a car speeding downhill, no breaks, no turns. I was at the mercy of Lexi’s mind now and there was no escape.
The first thing that hits you, as many readers may relate, is the realization that you are not in fact reading. Instead, your internal dialogue immediately starts to fade as Lexi’s voice takes over. In Chapter 9, Lexi delves into the notion that she has a face for TV but has instead decided to be a writer. By the time I reached this passage, I felt as though I was watching a show unfold before me. So in many ways Lexi was both a writer and an actress.
Chapters 1-5 served as a humbling reminder of my humanness as I dipped my toe into what was the full range of the emotional spectrum. An endearing tribute to her mother in Chapter One, perfectly set up the second vignette, a child's coming of age discovery of eating ass. Chapters three and four served to show that life is truly composed of small moments and showcased Lexi’s ability to make mundane moments come to life. This skill served as precursor to Chapter 5 which has since redefined the way I see underwear.
The following chapters were equally captivating if slightly more peaceful. Lexi extended her kindness through interludes of metacommentary that allowed one to catch their breath and process the enduring images of floor poops. Each chapter adeptly gave the audience Hemingwayesque short story narratives through the lens of his later years when he lost all sanity in Cuban exile.
As I reached the final farewell, I felt my jaw start to loosen and my room appeared more clear. I immediately blew out my candle, shut off my light and stared longingly at the ceiling. I never noticed the unique indents in the wood before and over the following hours I remained in the same position, unable to move.
Many writers think writing a book immortalizes you, but I never understood this until I read Literal Nonsense. Lexi quite literally lives within the pages,
I sincerely hope that Lexi does not write a full length novel. I will read it cover to cover without pause, fully consumed; and I fear I may never be the same thereafter.
Literal Nonsense is available for purchase HERE and in limited edition print.