BOOK REVIEW: Berkshires-set novel ‘The Lunatic’ mixes Thoreau-inspired solitude with tech backlash | Books

August 9, 2025

26 4 minutes read

BOOK REVIEW: Berkshires-set novel ‘The Lunatic’ mixes Thoreau-inspired solitude with tech backlash | Books — 68911b1a36b05.image .jpg

Nell Harding was living an ordinary life, sipping lattes in the warmth of a Gramercy Park cafe, chatting with friends, when her world was turned upside down. Her work laptop, as well as her identity, were stolen.

Following a short-lived accusation, in which she is framed as being the mastermind behind a “big-time hacking operation,” Nell leaves behind her apartment, her friends, her job in the rare books department at the New York City Library and heads off to the Berkshires with a few possessions and Argos, her German shepherd.

Nell is determined to lead a simple life in the Berkshires, where her grandfather has left her the family’s estate, a cabin in Stockbridge with plenty of room to roam. But she soon finds that putting distance between herself and the life she left behind (in 2011 NYC) needs to be more than just physical. It also must be done digitally.

In an act of desperation — to separate herself from the cyber sphere — Nell throws her cell phone into Bash Bish Falls. She ponders whether or not the act of disconnecting from the grid does indeed make her “a lunatic,” as one bystander calls her. Her self-disconnection becomes an act of isolation. However, she eventually finds her way back to [making minimal contact with] society, even kindling a romantic connection. But an accidental invasion of privacy by her potential beau threatens to destroy Nell’s carefully arranged world and sees her severing her romantic ties.

“The Lunatic,” Michelle B. Slater’s first novel, fashions itself as a fictional modern-day “Walden,” but functions more as a thinly-veiled argument for “absorption,” a wellness theory that posits attention spans increase when they have limited stimuli. In the case of Nell, after she removes the distractions of her cell phone, modem, television and laptop, she finds herself reading more, enjoying music, poetry, philosophy and connecting on another level with Argos. She even learns a little Farsi before helping an Iranian high school student prep for the SATs.

Nell’s experiment, like Thoreau’s, is only possible because she comes from a place of privilege — an exemplary education, financial stability, a roof over her head, and in her case, a trust fund. There are no outside distractions — family or a job — that require her attention or for her to remain in contact. In perfect circumstances, such as these, we could all disconnect from the digital world for long stretches of time, not just the occasional weekend digital detox.

Slater, director of the Mayapple Center World School in Stamford, Conn., has published two prior works, both non-fiction: “Soulmate Dog,” which explores the art of animal communication and “Starving to Heal in Siberia,” a memoir about her decision to try the radical alternative treatment of dry fasting in a last-ditch effort to recover from late-stage Lyme disease. “The Lunatic,” published earlier this year, was first written in 2011, at the height of the Occupy Wall Street movement, but was put on hold when Slater became ill. In 2019, she picked up the manuscript for “The Lunatic” and began writing furiously, finding the budding issues of overindulgence in screen time in 2011, even more prevalent in the modern day.

And while the book is heady with references to Thoreau and Emerson — a transcendentalist dream — it languishes when it comes to any specifics about the Berkshires. At the very beginning of the book, Nell tries to find a “linen store” and ends up going to a department store on the “edge of the Berkshires” — in Pittsfield. As a resident of North Berkshire, I was more than agitated that the Berkshires seemed limited to the southern parts of our county. While the most egregious of the offences, the reference wasn’t the only one that raised my ire. Year-round residents in the book — older folks who didn’t run off to the city at the end of fall — sport folksy New England accents. Nell also gives several strange speeches that include being a Mayflower descendant (Aren’t we all? There are at least 35 million descendants worldwide.)

Nell’s goal, Slater says on the “Turning the Page Podcast,” is “creating a meaningful life of one’s own.” I get it, I really do. And, I understand the need to put down the phone, turn off the television and step away from the internet — I’m a voracious reader who has annoyed her fair share of publicists when I ask for my advanced reader copy in print form. But, I fear this experimentation in absorption, even fictional, is a knee-jerk reaction that overlooks the beauty that comes with technology — having a continuous glucose monitor connected to my phone is a blessing after years of having to prick my finger three times a day.

If you’re concerned about technology addiction, too much screentime or just desire a visit to the past, where phones are still connected to landlines and mail is only delivered by post, dive in and indulge in the pre-internet glory days. Having grown up as a part of the generation with one foot in the analog age and the other in the digital age, I am rooting for an outcome that blends the “best of both worlds.”

Overall, I wish this novel were more nuanced. Unfortunately, it’s as if an academic novelized their research (its vocabulary will, at times, require a dictionary) instead of being a novel written by an academic.