Less

“Without the suit, there is no Arthur Less.”

Less is presented as a reserved man who fails to make an impact upon people. The blue suit becomes an important affectation for Less, providing him with a simulacrum of a personality. It distracts from the defects Less believes he possesses; this item of clothing defines him far more than his personality or his work. When he is told that he will not be able to wear the suit, he becomes worried, concerned that he might need to reveal his true self to a scrutinizing audience.

“Who the hell is Arthur Less?”

This question, asked by the old woman in the theater, plays on a key theme within the book. Less’s journey around the world is as much an attempt to answer this question as it is an attempt to avoid a wedding. Growing old, struggling professionally, and unable to find love, Less is worried about how he defines himself. When the question is asked, he ponders many responses, most of which define him in relation to another person. His journey is an attempt to find an identity that does not depend upon another person.

“Arthur Less is the bravest person I know.”

Less’s search for identity prompts him to reflect on one of Freddy’s comments, which Less believed to be blatantly untrue. Less experiences anxiety and fear in almost every situation, so he cannot comprehend how Freddy considered him brave. Unable to process the statement but certain that Freddy was not lying, Less has been plagued by this sentiment for years. It is a puzzle to solve. Less hopes the answer might provide the key to his identity, but he has yet been unable to make sense of Freddy’s comment.

“And we know we’re not like them, don’t we?” 

Less is thrown off balance by Van Dervander’s constant equivocating. Though they are separated by two decades and bodies of work of differing quality, the head of the festival continuously damns Less with faint praise and compares the two of them. Less is perturbed, unsure of how to react and whether he should be offended or whether he should agree. Moments such as this force Less to contemplate his own status and interrogate his own self-esteem.

“Why had he made Robert into a woman?” 

Less’s memory of losing his ring in a grocery store illustrates his curiosity about identity. In a moment of panic, he identifies himself as a heterosexual man and begins to play a role. The incident is elucidating for Less, who feels as though he suddenly has insight into another world. Reflecting on the memory many decades in the future, Less wonders what exactly prompted this sudden decision. Unable to find the answer, he skips along, remaining unsatisfied.

“The site was long abandoned by the time the Aztecs came through.” 

The tour of the ancient ruins is a metaphor for Less’s own period of introspection. He is guided through misnamed temples and decaying examples of great deeds. In the modern age, these deeds are unknowable and distant, yet their remains live on, shaping the landscape. Likewise, Less cannot determine how his past has shaped his current sense of self. He seems to know next to nothing about his own character.

“Less understands at last what is happening: he is in the wrong car.” 

Less’s fateful use of sleeping pills on the plane from Mexico to Europe leaves him dazed and confused. He is struck by the terrible realization that he is in the wrong car. As will become evident later, Less is misinformed once again. Less’s understanding of his life is misguided and false; he pretends to understand his failure when—in fact—he is successful. The incident becomes Less’s life in microcosm: His perceived failure and tragedy is actually the product of a well-lived life.

“For Arthur Less has won.” 

The prose at the end of Chapter 3 provides a blunt and impactful moment of joy. Less does not even hear the announcement of his victory. This proclamation is isolated on the final line, the syntax as unexpected as his triumph. The black space, the jump between the chapters, represents Less’s discombobulation after winning a prize he never expected to win. Once again, Less was lost in past memories and regrets that he should have been focusing on the privileges afforded to him by the present.

“How heartening it is to watch him speak; how disconcerting, however, to listen.” 

Less employs his rudimentary German upon arriving in Berlin. He speaks assuredly but makes many mistakes. After the award ceremony, however, his confidence is high. He does not care about minor errors, as his ego has been suitably massaged. For the first time in the novel, Less has received a real boost of confidence, which becomes evident in his eagerness to speak a difficult foreign language.

“‘Not true. It is not perfect, perhaps,’ Less tells him, ‘but it is excited.’” 

Bastian mocks Less’s German skills but cannot diminish Less’s enthusiasm for using the language. Despite the numerous mistakes Less makes, his eagerness and excitement are recognizable even to himself. Whether driven by the joy of winning an award, the novelty of being in a new environment, the thrill of a new lover, or a need to forget about Freddy’s upcoming marriage, Less throws himself wholeheartedly into the language. He knows that it is not perfect but still approaches it with excitement—an approach he could also use to consider his life and his accomplishments.

“In just such a way, Less awakens at the end of his stay to find a wall erected between his five weeks in Berlin and reality.” 

Less’s time in Berlin feels physically separate from reality. Just as the Berlin Wall separated two distinct countries, Less’s life has become divided: there is the world of his trip, where he wins awards and takes a young German lover, and there is the world of his home, where his former paramour is marrying another man. The physical separation of these two worlds is—like the wall—deliberate. Less wants to partition his life so that one world does not intrude on the other, so he can extract as much pleasure out of his unreality in Berlin as possible without thinking of the harsh reality at home in San Francisco.

“Passengers to Marrakech, this flight is overbooked, and we are looking for volunteers to accept a flight late tonight, with a money voucher for…”

This airport announcement presents Less with a divergent path. He is usually a cautious and reserved person, but this is a chance to be spontaneous and freewheeling. He accepts the offer as it appeals to him on multiple levels—financial, practical, and nostalgic—but delights in the opportunity because it allows him to subvert the staid, boring conception of old men. He wants to be young and impulsive, to refuse to be boxed in by his age.

“It’s that you’re a bad gay.” 

Finley Dwyer assaults Less with a brutal truth. Of all the self-doubts that have plagued Less’s life, the one identity he embraced with any certainty was his homosexuality. But Dwyer’s statement sounds like an accusation, as though Less has betrayed his own community. Less has failed to propagandize for the gay community and, as a result, he is not included in the homosexual literary canon. Less feels his grip on his identity loosen even more; he’s now unsure of how his sexuality intersects with his professional life. Dwyer has shaken the foundation of the one part of himself that Less thought he knew.

“The flight is overbooked, and we are looking for volunteers…” 

The second time Less hears this announcement, it is not entirely clear whether the offer is serious. He sits in a drunken haze, wondering—hoping, even—that a married man will call him back to a party. The announcement’s symbolism is clear, however. Where it previously represented a chance to cast off the shackles of expectation, it now represents Less’s gradual acceptance that he needs to move on. He is old, his 50th birthday is approaching, and the man he loves is married. Life—like the trip itself—must go on. Less accepts this and so ignores the announcement and flies to Morocco.

“Less did not know how to signal that in this crowd of gazelles, he was a vegetarian.” 

While at a party, surrounded by people like him in terms of their profile, Less searches for a way to differentiate himself. Less is individualistic to a fault; he deplores being lonely yet cannot help setting himself apart from everyone he meets. Even at a party—typically a happy event—his mind races to distinguish itself from his peers.

“It’s a little hard to feel sorry for a guy like that.” 

Zohra’s criticism of the premise of Less’s latest novel hurts him so much because Less feels it on a personal level. It is not a critique of his writing but of his existence. While Less might not see the novel as autobiographical, it is nevertheless about a middle-aged gay white man walking around San Francisco, feeling sorry for himself. This reflects much of Less’s own existence, from which he is desperate to escape.

“And what is the plan? Will they just keep rebuilding forever?”

Less’s literary mind cannot help conjuring metaphors. The image of the distant castle, its walls rebuilt each year, symbolizes Less’s need to regain control of his life. He cannot drift from one relationship to another, rebuilding himself on a regular basis. He cannot be like the castle. Less’s persistent self-reflection expresses itself through these literary devices, eventually leading him to a revelation about his novel and how to approach his writing (and his life).

“But he can no more feel sorry for Swift […] than Arthur Less can feel sorry for himself.” 

Less’s realization that his protagonist is not sympathetic is expressed through the prism of pity. At the beginning of his trip, Less felt nothing but self-pity. After meeting so many new people (and reflecting on many more whom he already knew), he has a revelation about himself and his protagonist: they are fools, not heroes. This shift in perspective occurs because Less can no longer pity himself; instead, he finds the events of his life comedic (though still edged with tragedy). This revelation allows Less to reconcile with his age, his success, and all his other troubles.

“Nothing, nothing here, is what he expected.” 

Even after a long journey in which hardly anything has happened as Less expected, he is still shocked by the unexpected. This represents the nadir of Less’s self-awareness; over the course of the chapter, he begins to interrogate and rebuild himself. But in this moment he struggles to even come to terms with the meaning of his journey.

“Without the suit, there is no Arthur Less.” 

Less’s blue suit had come to define him. It was his affectation, a way to deflect attention from his actual self. But during his journey, the suit—just like his identity—becomes tattered and worn. The ultimate moment of iconoclasm arrives when a stray dog enters his hut and rips the suit apart. From this moment on, Less no longer has a way to deflect from his personality. He gains self-awareness and self-actualization, no longer needing the suit as a crutch. The above quote, which Less repeats as a mantra, loses its power as Less completes his journey and discovers who he is.

“You have the best life of anyone I know.”

For years Less has considered Carlos his enemy. It is ironic, then, that Carlos delivers such an important and correct diagnosis of Less’s character. Though imperfect, Less’s life has been a string of joyous events. Even the trip, despite Less’s anxieties, has involved many triumphs. He won prizes, found love, and rewrote his book. But the greatest gift is given to him by Carlos: self-awareness. Less realizes that his life is not the tragedy he imagined it to be.

“I have neglected to mention that his suitcase has not made it to Japan.” 

Less’s lost luggage is a metaphor for the growth he experiences along his journey; it is the baggage he has left behind. Less no longer allows himself to be weighed down by the pressing difficulties and anxieties of his past; he has learned to view his fortunes and tragedies in a different light. Less dons a new suit, a new personality, and a new mindset, untroubled by the baggage of the past.

“Am I too old to meet someone, Robert?” 

One of the anxieties that has long affected Less is finally voiced in the above quote. Having lost Freddy, Less worries that he will never find anyone. The entire trip has been a subconscious attempt to distract himself from the idea. But as soon as he suggests it to Robert, Less is made to see how ridiculous the idea really is. Robert knows Less has value and worth outside of such a question and without regard to his age. Once Less is self-aware enough to ask the question, he can finally dismiss the thought, which has troubled him for months.