McNally touches on something crucial that we all face; the hypocrisy of the double lives we all lead. We’re all known (and sometimes celebrated) publicly for things that stand in stark contrast to our truest desires and private wishes. We often think we’re alone in this quagmire and continue to live our days in hidden guilt and suppressed unspoken shame. What McNally has done in baring himself so open is offer himself as a model colleague, a mirror of sorts, to show that you can live through life without a perfect ride and that is perfectly normal. The impostor syndrome that comes with all his successes is something we can all recognize, we strife so much for success and when it comes with less effort than anticipated, we begin to doubt the effort that brought it in the first place. We know people in the background who are instruments to our success but never get the applause we get and we feel like a fraud. I know so many successful people who have done great things and end up doubting themselves because they feel they got it easy, forgetting all the early years of hard work they put in. Generally, humans tend to overestimate the level of effort required and underestimate the success expected.
Well, McNally says you’re not alone. He doesn’t offer a solution for the deception but showing that he also goes through the motions seem to be enough for the wailing and wandering mind. For someone who regrets almost everything, Keith does a good job of hiding that regret, he probably does not want us to feel sorry for him, and it worked, because the book is filled with the recollections of a man who is grateful to be alive and admits that he does not feel worthy to be here. Despite being set around the theme of his stroke, he doesn’t make it the mainstay of the book, he avoids any story that makes you feel sorry for him, taking you on a journey that parachutes to indignation just as you’re about to feel sorry for him. He does not hold back in sharing his failures as a lover, husband, and father. And eventually, despite trying to hold back, towards the end he finally leans into the one thing he has done to resounding success – being a restaurateur. He did his best to hold that back, trying to overemphasize his failures, but greatness cannot be hidden in pages for so long.
McNally’s book brims with deadpan irony – short, self-aware sentences that undercut themselves with humor. He writes in the tone of a man both unimpressed by the world and amused by his own disillusionment. Each line lands with a smirk rather than a flourish, turning confession into performance. Lines like “It was the most honest letter I’d ever written. It was also full of lies” crack me up so much. For a man who abhors clichés, the book was filled with so many of them, rather strange.
It’s difficult to criticize Keith, especially after he’s written with such vulnerability and honesty, but I can’t help having questions. I didn’t get any indication that he shared his success or wealth with his parents or siblings. It was jarring to read that his older brother became a taxi driver in London and that his father was sorting garbage at Balthazar. Perhaps he chose not to mention any help he offered them, but the omission doesn’t sit well. Still, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
In trying to diagnose McNally’s conundrum which was very evident across the book, I was reminded of the words from the legendary Nigerian gospel singer, Patty Obassey, loosely translated as “wealth brings problems, money is the enemy, wealth causes rifts”. McNally’s problems persist because somehow, he still thinks he found success relatively easy by his own standards. If he wasn’t as successful, I doubt he’d have had this much perceived regrets, in his head.
Oh, and Keith… so what’s next?
Miracle Roch.