Detail showing a joyful reunion. Artwork by Joanna Concejo.
I was sitting cross-legged on the floor at Cape & Cowl Comics in Oakland, California, scooching along as I browsed the bottom shelf of the indie books section.
“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” a friendly employee called out. “Where ya been?”
I smiled back. “New Jersey.”
“What were you doing there?”
“That’s where I live.” I chuckled.
Puzzled, he replied, “But you’re in here all the time.” I understood why he thought that.
I took this photo to send to Michele, letting her know I had arrived safely in Oakland.
It was December 2023. I was a vice president at Dictionary.com, two blocks south of Cape & Cowl. I was a remote-hybrid employee, like most of the “Dcom” team. I was required to be in the office four times a year, usually for a week at a time.
By then, I had gotten more used to work travel. I had avoided it for most of my career. Michele, my wife, and I are both scarred offspring of absent fathers—hers traveled too much for work; mine simply left. Suddenly, from 2011 to 2014, my job required frequent travel. A week here, three days there. During a grueling three-month stretch, I was away more than I was home.
It was go, go, go constantly. The hectic pace strained my body and my family. It took a great deal of effort and lots of red-eye flights to remain a “present” husband and an involved dad, just as my absence demanded extra work and patience from Michele and my daughters, Shannon and Tara. We survived it, I hope with minimal scarring.
By the time I was working at Dictionary.com, my daughters were older. Travel was minimal and predictable, so there was less to feel guilty about. When I was in Oakland, I enjoyed ballgames with colleagues, local coffee shops (oh, the cinnamon latte), and Cape & Cowl. If I was in Oakland for seven days, I’d visit Cape & Cowl five or six times. Although I lived more than 2,500 miles from the store, I may have been one of their most frequent customers.
Finding ‘The Lost Soul’
“Whatcha looking for? Anything specific?” the employee asked.
“Just something different.”
He made a quick study of the shelf, pulled a copy of The Lost Soul, and handed it to me.
The Lost Soul book cover. Art by Joanna Concejo.
The book immediately felt unlike the others on the shelf. Light. Thin. Hardcover. It appeared to be old and handcrafted. Even a little weathered.
The cover image is enigmatic: a collection of illustrated objects invites the reader to decipher their meaning. A cane chair, back turned to the reader, sits on a small striped area rug. A black jacket with no wearer hangs on the back of the chair. Green English ivy, organic and stark against the flat background, sprawls from behind the jacket. A suitcase sits on the floor, ready to be whisked away.
I flipped through The Lost Soul just long enough to glimpse some breathtaking artwork. Then I closed the book so I didn’t spoil the experience. I paid for it, chatted a little more, and left Cape & Cowl for my hotel.
Back in my hotel room
After making short work of some takeout pumpkin curry from Annapurna, I stashed the receipt for my company expense report, settled into the comfiest chair in the hotel room, and started reading The Lost Soul.
I discovered that the antique look was an intentional design choice. (The book had been published only two years earlier.) The cover’s color and finish reminded me of matte kraft paper. The debossed title looked old-world but wasn’t. Eerily, the paisley pattern on the endpapers resembled the chair I was sitting in.
A simple and powerful tale unfolds, heightened by Olga Tokarczuk’s succinct storytelling and Joanna Concejo’s contemplative artwork. We’re shown children playing in the snow, older ones taking care of the younger, while figures in shadow wander through the woods behind them. Elsewhere, a restaurant server wearing an apron and patrons in business suits stare into nothingness.
Detail of children on bench. Art by Joanna Concejo.
Then the written story begins:
“Once upon a time there was a man who worked very hard and very quickly, and who had left his soul far behind him long ago.”
(I felt a twinge in my gut. It was lingering guilt, not the pumpkin curry.)
The story continues:
“He looked out the window, but he wasn’t sure what city he was in—all cities look the same through hotel windows. … And unfortunately, he had forgotten his own name too.”
(All too familiar.)
Unsettled, the man seeks counsel from a wise old doctor, who explains that “souls move at a much slower speed than bodies.” The doctor advises the man to settle in one place and wait for his soul to find him again. The remainder of the book illustrates emptiness and waiting. The craft makes the reading experience about the feeling of losing one’s soul as much as the idea of it.
Waiting for his soul. Artwork by Joanna Concejo.
Most pages are wordless, displaying engaging, sensitive artwork and inventive visual storytelling. Five interspersed pages show the man isolated on a grid as time passes. Two translucent pages are especially memorable. One creates a fog-like effect over the drawing of a small house on the following page. The other evokes a cloudy glass window, obscuring the man inside the home. In each case, the subjects seem almost out of reach.
The tale is ultimately uplifting. For a thin book with so few words, its message carries remarkable weight. It reads as a cautionary tale for young adults just starting their lives and a gentle alarm for grizzled, nose-to-the-grindstone professionals.
Final thought
The Lost Soul is an enchanting, resonant book that is a joy to read and admire. And I was able to enjoy it with minimal guilt and my soul mostly intact.
Little bits
It’s no wonder the book is so impressive. Olga Tokarczuk is an acclaimed author and winner of the 2018 Nobel Prize in Literature. Artist Joanna Concejo’s work has been exhibited in France, Germany, Italy, Poland, Portugal, and South Korea.
I noticed that the rug we first see on the book’s cover grows larger later, making room for both the man and his soul. In the end, the man is wearing the jacket and holding the ivy plant as life flourishes around him.
Know someone graduating from college? Have a friend who’s always in a rush? This book could make a thoughtful gift.
I don’t miss work travel. At all. And I love working on Flat Donkey. That said, I do miss many of my former colleagues and, many days, being part of a team (there were seriously talented, wonderful people). I’ve been fortunate to be part of several once-in-a-lifetime teams.
Working at Dictionary.com was a special treat. Like many people in media, I’ve worked with content gurus, writers, editors, photographers, illustrators, engineers, product developers, and marketing wizards. But few get to work with professional lexicographers—actual wordsmiths. Pretty nifty.
As you can probably tell, I was a pretty tame work-travel companion. I couldn’t tell you where the funnest nightspots were. But I could point you toward the best coffee shops and vegetarian restaurants, not to mention all the comic shops and bookstores within walking distance.
DETAILS
The Lost Soul
Creators: Olga Tokarczuk (writer; Instagram, website); Joanna Concejo (artist; Instagram); Antonia Lloyd-Jones (translator)
Published: Seven Stories Press (English translation); February 2021; 48 pages; hardcover. The book was first published in Polish as Zgubiona dusza in October 2017 by Wydawnictwo Format.
