Lost at Sea: The Jon Ronson Mysteries

Lost at Sea: The Jon Ronson Mysteries

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by Jon Ronson
     
 

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New York Times–bestselling author of The Psychopath Test Jon Ronson writes about the dark, uncanny sides of humanity with clarity and humor. Lost at Sea—now with new material—reveals how deep our collective craziness lies, even in the most mundane circumstances.

Ronson investigates the strange things we’re willing to

Overview

New York Times–bestselling author of The Psychopath Test Jon Ronson writes about the dark, uncanny sides of humanity with clarity and humor. Lost at Sea—now with new material—reveals how deep our collective craziness lies, even in the most mundane circumstances.

Ronson investigates the strange things we’re willing to believe in, from robots programmed with our loved ones’ personalities to indigo children to the Insane Clown Posse’s juggalo fans. He looks at ordinary lives that take on extraordinary perspectives. Among them: a pop singer whose greatest passion is the coming alien invasion, assisted-suicide practitioners, and an Alaskan town’s Christmas-induced high school mass-murder plot. He explores all these tales with a sense of higher purpose and universality, yet they are stories not about the fringe of society. They are about all of us. Incisive and hilarious, poignant and maddening, revealing and disturbing—Ronson writes about our modern world, and reveals how deep our collective craziness lies, and the chaos stirring at the edge of our daily lives.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
“Profoundly weird...wonderfully twisted...extremely satisfying.”—Boston Globe

“Initially, it seems that oddities are what...Jon Ronson is after. He’s actually really just trying to understand the irrational hopes and desires that drive us all.”—The Daily Beast

“Eclectic and fascinating...Ronson treats his subjects fairly but skeptically...his view always framed by an appropriately cocked eyebrow.”—Entertainment Weekly
 
“Absurdly entertaining.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
 
“A sterling collection of amazing stories from an offbeat journalist at the top of his game.”—Kirkus Reviews

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781594631955
Publisher:
Penguin Publishing Group
Publication date:
10/01/2013
Pages:
496
Sales rank:
348,480
Product dimensions:
5.50(w) x 8.10(h) x 1.20(d)
Age Range:
18 Years

Read an Excerpt

Who Killed Richard Cullen?

(This story was published in the Guardian on July 16, 2005, two years before the global financial crash that began with the subprime mortgage crisis of July 2007.)

It is a wet February day in a very smoky room in a terraced cottage in Trowbridge, Wiltshire. A portable TV in an alcove plays the news. Everything in here is quite old. No spending spree has taken place in this house. There are wedding and baby and school photographs scattered around. Six children, now all grown up, were raised here. There’s a framed child’s painting in the toilet, a picture of Wendy Cullen. It reads “Supergran.” When I phoned Wendy a week ago she said I was welcome to visit, “Just as long as you don’t mind cigarette smoke. I’m smoking myself to death here.”

The “Congratulations! You have been pre-approved for a loan”– type junk mail is still pouring through their letterbox. Wendy has just thrown another batch in the bin.

“You know what the post is like,” she says.

“I don’t get all that much credit-card junk mail,” I say. “I get some, I suppose, but not nearly as much as you do.”

“Really?” says Wendy. “I assumed everyone was constantly bombarded.”

“Not me,” I say.

We both shrug as if to say, “That’s a mystery.”

IT WAS A month ago today that Wendy’s husband, Richard, committed suicide. It was the end of what had been an ordinary twenty-five-year marriage. They met when Wendy owned a B and B on the other side of Trowbridge. He turned up one day and rented a room. Richard had trained to be an electrical engineer but he ended up as a mechanic.

“He loved repairing people’s cars,” Wendy says. Then she narrows her eyes at my line of questioning and makes me promise that I am not here to write “a slushy horrible mawky love story.”

“I’m really not,” I say. So Wendy continues. Everything was normal until six years ago, when she needed an operation. “I couldn’t face the Royal United Hospital in Bath,” she says, “so I went private. I took out a four-thousand-pound loan.”

She says she remembers a time when it was hard for people like them to get loans, but this was easy. Companies were practically throwing money at them.

“Richard handled all the finances. He said, ‘I can get you one with nought percent interest and after six months we’ll switch you to another one.’ ”

But then, a few months after the first operation, Wendy was diagnosed with breast cancer and Richard had to take six weeks off to drive her to radiotherapy. The bills needed paying and so, once again, he did that peculiarly modern British thing. He began signing up for credit cards, behaving like a company, thinking he could beat the lenders at their own game by cleverly rolling the debts over from account to account.

There are currently eight million more credit cards in circulation in Britain than there are people: sixty-seven million credit cards, fifty-nine million people.

He signed up with Mint: “Apply for your Mint Card. You’d need a seriously good reason not to. What’s stopping you?”

And Frizzell: “A name you can trust.”

And Barclaycard: “Wake up to a fresh start.”

And Morgan Stanley: “Choose from our Flags of Great Britain range of card designs.”

And American Express: “Go on, treat yourself.”

And so on.

Right now nobody knows how Richard Cullen’s shrewd acumen fell apart.

“He wasn’t a man that talked a great deal,” says Wendy, “and he never, ever discussed finances with me.” But somehow it all spiraled out of control.

Wendy first got the inkling that something was wrong just before Christmas 2004, when the debt-collection departments of various credit-card companies began phoning. He called them back out of his wife’s hearing.

“You know how men will walk around with their mobiles,” says Wendy. “He used to go out into the garden.”

She looks over to the garden behind the conservatory extension and says, “He was a very proud man. He must have been going through hell. They were very, very persistent. I don’t think he was even phoning them back in the end.”

Finally, he admitted it to his wife. He said he didn’t seek out all of the twenty-two credit cards he had somehow ended up acquiring between 1998 and 2004. On many occasions they just arrived through the letterbox in the form of “Congratulations! You have been pre-approved . . .” junk. He said he thought he owed about £30,000. There had been no spending spree, he said, no secret vices. He had just tied himself up in knots, using each card to pay off the interest and the charges on the others. The fog of late-payment fees and so on had somehow crept up and engulfed him. He got a pair of scissors from the kitchen and cut up ten credit cards in front of her.

On January 10, 2005, Richard visited his ex-wife, Jennifer, who later told the police that he seemed “very quiet, like he’d retreated into himself, like his mind was gone.”

She asked him how his weekend was. He replied, “Not very good.”

Then he went missing for two days.

“Nobody knows where he went,” says Wendy.

On the morning of January 12, Wendy’s son Christopher looked in the garage. It was padlocked, so he broke in with a screwdriver. There was an old Vauxhall Nova covered with a sheet.

“I don’t know why,” Christopher later told the police, “but I decided to look under the sheet.”

Richard Cullen had gassed himself in his car. He left his wife a note: “I just can’t take this any more and you’ll be better off without me.”

WHO KILLED RICHARD CULLEN?
For instance: Why did so many credit-card companies choose to swamp the Cullens with junk when they don’t swamp me?

How did they even get their address? How can I even begin to find something complicated like that out?

And then I have a brainwave. I’ll devise an experiment. I’ll create a number of personas. Their surnames will all be Ronson, and they’ll all live at my address, but they’ll have different first names. Each Ronson will be poles apart, personality wise. Each will have a unique set of hopes, desires, predilections, vices, and spending habits, reflected in the various mailing lists they’ll sign up to—from Porsche down to hard-core pornography. The one thing that’ll unite them is that they won’t be at all interested in credit cards. They will not seek loans nor any financial services as they wander around, filling out lifestyle surveys and entering competitions and purchasing things by mail order. Whenever they’re invited to tick a box forbidding whichever company from passing their details to other companies, they’ll neglect to tick the box.

Which, if any, of my personas will end up getting sent credit-card junk mail? Which personality type will be most attractive to the credit-card companies?

I name my personas John, Paul, George, Ringo, Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick, Titch, Willy, Biff, Happy and Bernard. And I begin.

What People are saying about this

From the Publisher
Praise for The Psychopath Test

“A rollicking, page-turner of a book . . . no ordinary piece of investigative journalism . . . Ronson’s storytelling skills are strong enough to enliven even the necessary reflections that would be one yawn after another if entrusted to a lesser writer.”—San Francisco Chronicle

“Engagingly irreverent.”—The New York Times

“Because of Ronson’s relentless self-deprecation and goofy, British humor, it’s easy to tag along without fully realizing the rigor of his reporting, which is itself frenzied with compulsive questioning and obsessive research.”—The Boston Globe

“[A] fascinating and humane book.”—The Washington Post Book World

“Both terrifying and hilarious.”—O: The Oprah Magazine

Meet the Author

Jon Ronson’s books include the New York Times bestseller The Psychopath Test, and Them: Adventures with Extremists and The Men Who Stare at Goats—both international bestsellers. The Men Who Stare at Goats was adapted as a major motion picture, released in 2009 and starring George Clooney. Ronson lives in London and New York City.

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Lost at Sea: The Jon Ronson Mysteries 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 19 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
AnnetteOC More than 1 year ago
Not everyone gets to interview a robot, retrace James Bond’s steps in Goldfinger, and investigate a death on a Disney cruise. But we might get the impression that such things are ordinary in the glamorous life of Jon Ronson. The Guardian journalist known for The Men Who Stare at Goats, which later became a movie, has had some strange assignments over the years, leaving him with many stories to tell…some that will probably raise your eyebrows as they did mine. You see, Lost at Sea: The Jon Ronson Mysteries tackles some heavy and controversial topics – celebrity sex offenders, assisted suicides, religious cults, the SETI program. But oddly enough, Ronson still comes across as insightful and fresh, even when I’m not inclined to agree with his perspective. The author’s engaging mix of investigative and “gonzo” journalism makes for a great bedside read that might end up keeping you up longer than expected. I had to read it twice before finally settling down to review it. I also got a great deal of unexpected laughs out the book. And although there’s a bit of language – as would be expected these days – the author, I’m happy to say, isn’t the type who resorts to crude humor. His interviewees provide him with enough real material for the readers to laugh at. Although I enjoyed the book (and now take a peek at Ronson’s articles online now and then), I have to wonder: What was he trying to accomplish with Lost at Sea? It’s not his final book, but feels a bit like a memoir, a sort of “best of” collection of articles. When googling Ronson, I half expected to find him retired, but he’s still writing for The Guardian, interviewing some rather unusual characters, and planning his next big journalistic adventure as a passenger aboard a Virgin Galactic’s space ship. If Lost at Sea wasn’t some sort of farewell, it starts looking like an attempt to cash in on one’s popularity. I really hope not. I would hate to see Ronson’s great writing cheapened that way. Disclaimer: I received a complementary uncorrected proof copy of Lost at Sea: The Jon Ronson Mysteries from the Penguin Group. A favorable review was not required.
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I first learned of Jon Ronson from his interview on The Daily Show with John Stewart. I'm glad, in retrospect, that I decided to read The Psychopath Test first, as that book introduced me to his unique brand of investigative journalism blended with humor and personal insights. Unlike The Psychopath Test, Lost at Sea is more a collection of somewhat unrelated stories (even thinking that they are all "mysteries" would be inaccurate) instead of a winding narrative that explores a set of similar themes. I kept reading Lost at Sea, hoping to figure out the tie that binds all the stories together, and eventually gave up and just accepting (and enjoying, mind you) his quirky storytelling. In an odd way, I began to envision Ronson as a journalist version of Ford Prefect (a character from Douglas Adams' well-known "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" series who travels the Universe making entries for said "Guide"). This may be because Ronson is British and shares some of Adams' dry British humor. But in essence, these stories - ranging from a evangelical Anglican program crafted to win wealthy agnostics back into the fold, to poking through Stanley Kubrick's copious notes on movies both made and unmade - come accross as oddly humorous semi-autobiographical tales of Ronson's adventures in exploring quirky stories for his show on the BBC. All that being said, as long as you don't try (like I did) to find some sort of unifying theme to the book, it is an intriguing read. From re-creating one of James Bonds' journeys in a custom Aston Martin to Jesus Christians donating their kidneys to strangers, each chapter gives you the intimate feeling of being right alongside Ronson as he explores various life experiences he investigates.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love his books & this is one you'll appriciate if you're a fan.
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Meandering,slow interviews with colorless facts.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This was an author I had heard about and decided to try this book. It was a good read and I would recommend getting it for anyone who likes investigative satire and investigative journalism around "out of the box" topics.
DickK More than 1 year ago
Barely got thru the first two segments. Ugly!