Published by Atria Books on February 15, 2022
“You ever wish that you could die … but without all the dying?” Michael Kabongo needs a therapist but he speaks that question to a prostitute, who wisely tells him she’s not a therapist. Prostitutes and bartenders are fated to listen to their customers’ woes. In any event, Michael tells the reader that he doesn’t want to die but to “cease to exist, disappear, be invisible, every trace of your life, even the memories of you in other people’s hearts and minds, all gone.” That can’t happen so Michael’s only alternative is to end his life, perhaps by jumping off a cliff. The novel follows Michael as he works to spend all his money before he dies because, well, he can’t take it with him.
In chapters that tell us the backstory, we learn that Michael grew up poor and black in London. His family traveled to England from the Congo to avoid a war when he was a child. For reasons Michael does not understand, his father returned to the Congo and died during Michael’s childhood.
When he decides to die, he is teaching eighth grade. I suspect most eighth grade teachers feel the same way. In London, Michael has few friends. One is Sandra, the co-worker Michael calls his “work wife.” Another is Jalil. Part of the story follows Jalil’s response to his father’s insistence that it is time for Jalil to marry. That subplot doesn’t amount to much, but it gives Michael the chance to advise Jalil that he “can’t just go around letting life happen to you,” advice that Michael realizes he’s not following.
When Michael decides that he no longer desires to live, he has about $9,000 in the bank. He travels to San Francisco (a city where it’s easy to spend money), visits City Lights bookstore (again, an easy place to spend money, but always worth it), meets a young woman named Sara, treats her to a weekend in LA, and eventually travels to New York where a friendly taxi driver takes him to a strip club. There Michael meets a friendly prostitute named Belle. At the end of each chapter or after significant events, we see Michael’s remaining funds. The money disappears quickly — perhaps a bit too quickly as Michael ponders reasons to extend his end-of-life adventure.
About a quarter of the way into The Selfless Act of Breathing, Michael explains the history and cause of his fixation on his own death. That history includes a failed relationship, mixed results as he tries to reach self-destructive students, his displeasure with his mother’s marital plans, and conflicted emotions about a co-worker whose beating he witnessed. He also spends significant time describing his classic symptoms of depression.
The path that the novel will follow seems obvious once Michael meets Belle. The discuss their different views of life — he’s a fatalist, she doesn’t believe anything was “meant to be”; he’s almost a nihilist, she seems more like a Buddhist — and their discussion might provide the kind of spark that would make Michael rethink his life. Will the stripper redeem the jaded Londoner? Fortunately, the novel isn’t quite as predictable as a Netflix romance.
Still, the story is filled with clichés, from the prostitute with a heart of gold to a homeless man who quotes philosophers about the purpose of suffering. Collateral characters occasionally deliver trite affirmances about the importance of persevering and overcoming obstacles. The sermonizing in the final pages is a bit much. In addition, JJ Bola failed to win my emotional investment in Michael, who sometimes comes across as a self-pitying whiner whose problems are, on the whole, considerably less than he would have experienced in the Congo. I understand that depression causes people to fixate on their troubles and possibly develop a suicidal ideation that others cannot understand, but that reality didn’t make me root for Michael as a reader is clearly meant to do. I just didn’t care whether he kills himself. I was more interested in the entertaining moments provided by Michael’s spending spree.
The story proceeds at a good pace. Some of the scenes are unexpected. At least one aspect of the ending comes as a surprise. Another aspect is darkly ambiguous, unless I’m imagining an ambiguity that Bola did not intend. The Selfless Act of Breathing has its faults, but it is not a failure. Readers who appreciate clichés about the purpose of life might even find it inspiring.
RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS