A work of non fiction by a member of a pop group has its inherent dangers: it could be a tissue of lies or half truths made up as the author continues his or her daily intake of ego gratification. It could be a self pitying, self congratulatory rant; it could also be a true, if somewhat self centred, treatise on a pet topic.
Pop stars are, for the most part, cocooned from reality, and when reality in the form of a life threatening illness forces its way into their lives, it either reshapes them for the better or it drives yet another rusty nail into their psyche.
Ben Watt - who, along with his partner Tracey Thorne, is a member of Everything But The Girl, one of the most successful British pop duos of the past 30 years - has obviously surfaced from his brush with death a better person. This is not to say that Watt was your average narcissistic pop star - far from it, in fact. The music of Everything But The Girl - reflective, mature, genuinely lyrical, and melodically rooted in jazz, pop, and folk - is truthfully mirrored in the people who create it, and Watt passes the adult test (often sneered at by pop pundits) every time. Having had the pleasure of interviewing him - a few times in the past 10 years, I know that that he has little time for the typical pop star lifestyle, and this is probably why his diary of time spent in hospital reads more like lucid therapy than "why me?" drivel.
It's also interesting to note that Ben Watt doesn't once mention the words "Everything But The Girl" in his book. It's as if he wanted to distance his real self from his erstwhile image, to highlight the person rather than the pop star. It is this that makes Patient particularly valid.
Documenting his few horrific months in hospital and apprehensive recovery time thereafter, Patient is, unsurprisingly, extremely well written. There's a lot of technical, diagnostic jargon that Watt obviously gleaned after the fact, but one can see that he is ultimately fascinated by what happened to him. For most people, Watt argues, a short stay in hospital is but a weekend break from the norm. When a person is (literally) wired into the hospital system, on strong dosages of pain killers, with a series of consultants at an initial loss as to what their condition is and how to rectify it, when the novelty quickly wears off. What starts as a holiday eventually becomes a living hell.
Slowly, as the interminable wait for diagnosis sets in, Watt changes from being lighthearted to depressingly self absorbed, grasping the opportunity to take stock of his real life - his emotionally aloof father, the lack of any real bond with his step family, the occasional doubts about his relationship with Tracey - and confront his demons head on.
Finally, after months of great pain, intensive care units, and with 10 feet of his small intestine removed, Watt learns that he has been suffering from Churg Strauss Syndrome, a disease which, simply speaking, attacks the body's immune system. If this had happened more than 10 years ago, Ben Watt would have died.
Instead, he writes, "I find my voice has a new found strength to it, a greater projection, more meaning. Does it resonate more in a hollower body? The sound is on a taut string, vibrating, humming like overhead electricity cables. It comes out of my mouth alive, and restless to communicate energy and understanding." An excellent book.
