For a short period of time when I was in primary school, I was convinced that my friends, teachers and headmistress were involved in some kind of conspiracy to construct an artificial reality for me; that there was an in-joke I was not privvy to. The “what” and “how” was less of a concern to me than the “why”. This feeling eventually passed, and I later learned that it was not uncommon for people to go through this phase, meaning there may be a reason for its commonality rooted in all our psychology. Some years later when I saw the brilliant film THE TRUMAN SHOW I was reminded of that sensation. The central conundrum being, is there a different, constructed reality behind the reality I perceive? This fascinating question is central to CAMSTERDAM.
The enormous benefit of the independent publishing market is that it provides real opportunity to those who may be less likely to be able to amplify their voice, and amplify their story, through traditional publishing means. This book is a perfect example of why independent voices, in all their forms, from all strata of society, are important.
Simon Fidler’s memoir portrays a complex descent into a labyrinth of paranoia and intrigue. It starts with a bit of detail about some trouble he got into at school, for reasons that were somewhat reflective of his love of the movie Fight Club. After a succession of small jobs in Sheffield culminating in a role as a betting advisor with William Hill, he leaves in order to go and search for his missing brother abroad. Simon initially stays in Amsterdam before he and his brother travel across Europe through France and Spain, ending up in Gibraltar where he then lives and works for some time. After an offhand joke in a bar and an accidental association with a man accused of phoning in a fake bomb threat to a public place, Fidler is hauled in for police questioning and from there the paranoia kicks in. Fidler suspects a conspiracy to maintain surveillance on him. Coincidence after coincidence leads him to the distinct impression that he has been added to the UK terrorist watchlist. At this point it is hard to believe such a thing could really be the case. Fidler states that, like Fight Club, you don’t talk about Fight Club. And here, you are never told that you are on the watchlist, because, for those spying on you, it would alter your behaviour. Despite any obfuscation, there are circumstances surrounding a historic anniversary that mean that there could be something to all this. Odd interactions with passing characters (some well known!) continue to confound, and many of these people keep appearing and reappearing in places that could only show as an intent to monitor and scrutinize his actions.
Fidler’s accounts of some of his run-ins with various individuals are often described in very broad terms and sometimes without the necessary conclusion that would assist the reader with the contextual requirements to make them compelling. In one example, he is stalked for days around Sheffield, but when he eventually confronted his stalker to ask “why are you stalking me?” the chapter ends. How did this conversation continue? We are not told. Overall I understand what Fidler is working to achieve, however, the subjective viewpoint of the narrative challenges you to find the objective throughline. In other words, when a sense of a conspiracy takes hold, confirmation bias is a real danger. To Fidler’s credit though, there was definitely something at play in his life, but I wonder to what extent Fidler’s choice of lifestyle (namely drugs and nefarious job roles) and acquaintances (some flatmates) resulted in the brushes with the law (and more) that he experienced. Could he really have posed such a danger that (by his own admission) over 100 people were involved in tracking his behaviour and clandestinely (and openly) interfering in his life?
It’s certainly possible, and it’s the heart of this question that makes this book so fascinating. There is a glossary of references to online material that leave you under no illusion about the underhand tactics a government use to persecute anyone they choose. And I’m sure paranoia and unanswered questions are very much part of the playbook.
Fidler’s narrative is bold and propulsive and I found myself frantically reading so that I could reach the finish. This writer knows how to keep the pace going. The conclusion to this story is maddeningly out of reach, both for Simon and us as readers. As an experiment I would have been fascinated if this true story had been written by a biographer who may have brought some much needed balance and objectivity to the table. But I won’t deny it, this book really did make me think.
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