We Are the Light(76)
Other characters draw a hard distinction between Jacob and his seventeen victims, but Lucas is firmly attached to the number eighteen—he compulsively walks eighteen miles in a day, he circles around Karl’s house eighteen times, and he writes eighteen letters total. He even convinces the survivors to agree to “an in-memoriam section listing the names of all eighteen people who were killed at the Majestic Theater, including Jacob Hansen.” How do you think this reflects Lucas’s search for closure? Does the book suggest that all healing requires forgiveness, and do you agree?
Lucas is profoundly shaped by his trusting, tender relationships with the other men in his life, and the vital importance of healthy masculinity is a major theme in the book. Yet not to be overlooked are the female characters in the book, who play an equally important role in helping Lucas and the town on the journey to wholeness and healing. Consider all the big and small ways in which the women step up: what is their part, and how is it complementary to the man-on-man healing approach?
In the novel, many people who are not related by blood extend unconditional love and support toward one another. Many biological relationships, such as between Lucas and his parents, Jill and her father, and Eli and his mother, are twisted and toxic rather than truly caring and nurturing. What does it mean to treat someone like family? What is special about a chosen family, and what does the book say about belonging to and taking care of a community?
In addition to Eli’s monster movie, the other film that holds great meaning in the book is the cinematic classic It’s a Wonderful Life, which was beloved by the town until tragedy struck. How does the story of It’s a Wonderful Life connect to the story of the monster movie and the overarching story of the novel?
Enhance Your Book Club
Vote on a favorite classic movie to watch together. Keeping in mind what you learned from the book about how movies are created, what did you notice this time? Reflect on the art of filmmaking and the experience of watching.
Set aside some time for individual journaling and invite each member to write a private letter of their choice, in the spirit of Lucas’s letters to Karl. Members can choose to share their letters. How does it feel to put thoughts into words?
The close-knit townspeople of Majestic, PA, come together to take care of their own. Is there a way that your club can give back to the community? Sign up for a group volunteer opportunity and enjoy a meal afterward at a local diner like the Cup Of Spoons.
A Conversation with Matthew Quick
How did you decide to write We Are the Light as an epistolary novel?
I got 100% sober in June of 2018 and was immediately rewarded with crippling writer’s block. I’d sit at the computer all day and struggle to complete a paragraph. And the paragraph would not be good. This went on for years. My wife, Alicia, began encouraging me to write another epistolary novel. She pointed out that I was still able to write letters. I’ve always had pen pals. I enjoy writing long letters and emails to friends. I resisted Alicia’s suggestion. But when the writer, Nickolas Butler, echoed my wife’s opinion without my having shared it with him, I finally went up to my office, typed the words “Dear Karl,” and was off. After years of not being able to write, I was suddenly writing happily for eight to twelve hours a day. A lot happened during those years of writer’s block, including my entering into Jungian analysis. I’m not suggesting that writing epistolary novels is some sort of magic cure for writer’s block. But the intimacy of letter writing helped me find my way into the heart of this story, which is perhaps my most intimate to date.
The loving bonds between Lucas, Eli, and the other male characters in the book are expressed loud and clear. Why do you think this is important to show?
The loving relationship I had with my grandfather probably saved my life when I was young. I grew up at a time when—and in a community where—men were not really encouraged to be openly intimate with each other. There wasn’t a lot of male hugging going on back then. Nor were there too many male-only heartfelt discussions. My grandfather was a WWII veteran and he wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy either, but he held my hand every morning at the breakfast table and prayed for me with an earnestness that felt sincere. I also remember being saved by sweaty male hugs on the basketball court. These were, of course, justified by difficult baskets made and victories over our enemies, but as a boy starved for male affection, I made do with them. And during my recent depressions and anxiety battles, a few of my best male friends really showed up for me. I regularly have conversations with male confidants about my feelings and aspirations and dreams and fears and hurts. I have found that many men are hungry for such talks and light up when you give them the chance to participate in such experiences. I think there are a lot of lonely, hurting men out there. Lonely hurting men pushed to extremes sometimes do horrific unthinkable things—like Jacob Hansen does in the movie house. But when lonely hurting men are loved by their communities and given the chance to bond in healthy ways with other men, sometimes they contribute beauty and unity to their communities—like Eli Hansen does. I would like there to be more Elis in the world than Jacobs. That’s why it’s important to let men know that we love them and that they are allowed to love us back.
How did Jungian analysis come to play a starring role in We Are the Light?
I had been Jung-curious for a long time. And during my most recent dark night of the soul, when my worldview was perhaps at its bleakest, my wife encouraged me to give the This Jungian Life podcast a listen. When I did, I heard Jungian analysts Deborah C. Stewart, Lisa Marchiano, and Joseph R. Lee discuss many topics through a Jungian lens, as well as analyze the dreams of listeners. I binged the T.J.L. archive and became more and more interested in Jung’s ideas. Finally, I found an analyst and entered into Jungian analysis myself. To say that my analysis has radically reshaped who I am, would be a gross understatement. Since 2014, I had also been trying to write a novel about a tragedy at a historic, cathedral-like movie house, but could never figure out how to tell the tale. It was only when I started applying a Jungian lens that the story began to flow out of me in a way that felt meaningful.