By Brian Hooper

The Coachella Review first discovered Toronto native Chris Klassen when we published his short story “Thank You No Thank You” in our Summer 2023 issue. What we’ve learned is that Klassen isn’t afraid of the big questions. His first novel, An Individual, is an epic story about an anonymous man on a spiritual journey to unearth life’s universal truths. Klassen is a lifelong student of religion and uses this background to explore a number of themes in his work. An Individual is his first novel.

The Coachella Review: This is a story about self-discovery. What came to mind are epic literary classics like Siddhartha.

Chris Klassen: Yes, I enjoyed the first half of that book.

TCR: There are a number of literary works about self-discovery and spiritual awakening where people go out into the world and grapple with big, overarching existential questions. These authors have their own approach to telling these types of stories. How would you describe your approach to telling this type of narrative?

CK: What I like doing is thinking about the reader as opposed to what I’m portraying. I liken it to almost be kind of a hook, and that’s one of the reasons that I like having an anonymous main character. It’s easier for the reader to identify [with the character]. As soon as you have a name, the reader can say, Oh, that’s not me; that’s this person.

TCR: I was hoping you can talk more about your choice, an obviously deliberate one, to have an anonymous protagonist. There were times where I felt that the anonymity created some distance between the reader and the story. But there were times when I saw myself in the anonymous protagonist. In other words, there was an ongoing confluence of feeling both connected and disconnected to him.

CK: As soon as a character has a name, [the narrative] is separate from the reader, and it’s easier for the reader to say, That’s not me. But when the character is anonymous, the reader is more able to say, That could be me. In this case, [the protagonist] was going through some points of his reality that would be outside of the realm of the reader. And then there were some that would then kind of drift back into where the reader could say, You know what? I’ve tried that, as well. But I think, especially nearing the end, the character was deep into his own head, and what he was experiencing seemed far beyond typical reality. But it was his reality. So for the reader, and for me, too, the conclusion is open-ended. I can’t say for sure whether at the end he was content and sane in his way or not really sane at all. I don’t think it’s up to me to dictate to the reader how it ends. I’d rather the reader make their own decision.

TCR: I wanted to add something there about the power of ambiguity and how it can create more overarching questions and force the reader to contend with them.

CK: One of my favorite books is Nausea by Jean Paul Sarte. It is a book that I have read fourteen times now, and I think I might have about 50% comprehension [of the book] at this point. What I will say about my book is that, if it’s not 100% understood, that’s not a problem for me.

TCR: I understand what you mean there. There are definitely novels that I’ve encountered that took maybe five or six times for me to get it. And when I finally got it, it was almost magical, like unlocking a mystery. There’s something about your novel that feels incredibly personal. What was going on in the world at the time you wrote this, or what was something that inspired you to tell this type of story?

CK: It is just based on the kind of novels and literature that I’ve read most of my life. I’ve always been into, like, Edgar Allen Poe—heavy thematic stuff—so it’s definitely got some of that as background. I think the other thing [is] I had just left the career that I had been working in for like almost 30 years. So, I think I was at that point—I was kind of open to, you know, finding new truths and finding contentment at a brand-new stage. So the amount that I was reflecting on existence, in general, was more wide open. And I think that’s where some of the themes came from. They were more like front and center in my mind.

TCR: It seems like you have an interest in the big questions or maybe the pursuit of big questions.

CK: I come from a religious family, so the idea of questioning what’s important—what is moral and what isn’t—that has been part of my background. So I’ve just expanded it with this book to look at a lot more options than just one religious belief. There is a lot of potential, you know.

TCR: One of the most compelling scenes is when the protagonist ends up in a crowd where he is wandering. I think maybe this was when he was living in the rail station or hanging out at the rail station. It was a very powerful part of the book for me. He feels there isn’t enough oxygen for everyone to breathe, and no one’s listening to him. Maybe even people are laughing at him. Can you walk me through the significance of the scene?

CK: There are other areas where a young boy lost the ability to speak and ended up in the hospital and then his voice came back, and that’s kind of more metaphorical [and representative] of just not being heard or feeling you’re just not being heard. So the scene that you’re talking about is kind of carrying that on [since] he was in the middle of the crowd.

He saw what he considered to be a fairly difficult situation with somebody fainting. In his mind, it was because there were just so many people taking up more oxygen than his logic—than he—was able to [comprehend]. And yet when [he tried] to get something done about it, he was basically just ushered away. It was just another example of someone who feels like they are saying something important and really wants to be heard, and they’re not being heard. It was an illustrative scene that…exaggerated that point.

TCR: There are multiple levels of interpretation with this novel. Would you say is this an upbeat story? Is it an optimistic one?

CK: I think I wouldn’t say it’s pessimistic. That’s a good question. I never thought of labeling it optimistic or pessimistic. I would say it’s left to interpretation and open to challenges. I’m not sure if that answers your question exactly or not. I don’t know whether I could label it. If I had to label it, I would say it’s more optimistic because I do feel at the end that [the protagonist] is content with whether he is sane or not, but I feel like he is finally content in where he is because his final line is, “God has blessed me.” I think ultimately, he feels he is in a better place than where he started.

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Brian Hooper lives in Los Angeles with his wife, Stephanie, and cat, Mateo. He hails from Atlanta, Georgia and has three degrees, including an MFA from UCR-Palm Desert. He is dedicated to telling stories centered around the Black American experience. He believes there are a million ways to be Black and wants to be at the forefront of having this truth reflected in his work. Traveling is his favorite thing to do. He has been to six out of seven continents and counts Vanuatu as the most exotic and faraway place he has ever visited.