As it turns out, the guy in question wasn’t deceptive—apparently, there’s a difference between an identity thief/regular thief and someone you’re just not that into. Who knew?
So while this story didn't confirm my worst suspicions, I'm still glad I read it. It at least reinforced the idea that I should trust my instincts and not be on robbery-watch with the person I'm supposed to love and trust with all my heart.
In this text, Ellin shares the story of meeting “The Commander,” allegedly a Navy SEAL officer. She is swept up by his stories of going on super secret missions in Afghanistan, of having meetings with Obama, and of saving soldiers’ lives. After a speedy engagement with the Commander, Ellis finds out that her fiancé has been lying the entire time—while he was a doctor and did work for the FBI, he was never a Navy SEAL and used his past marriages and relationships to get illegal prescriptions for Vicodin, an addiction that he kept secret among everyone he knew. Interspersed with Ellin’s narrative is research about deceit, motivations behind compulsive liars, and anecdotes that illustrate both the variety and commonality of lying.
Truthfully, I found the story of the Commander kind of boring. He was charming, and the story provided a stable foundation for Ellin’s research, but it was difficult to be invested in their relationship. Perhaps I am a broken reader and care little for the main stories in a book, but there seemed to be little care in fleshing out the Commander’s character, or Ellin’s reasons for being interested in him. Yes, I can relate to Ellin’s justification that she was lonely, she didn’t want to disrupt stability. Ellin’s internal reflections perfectly mirror those of us who have so badly wanted to settle into relationships that we always knew were off: “I was most alone in the wrong relationship….I wanted this relationship to work” (13), and “I was so lonely. Wasn’t the whole point of having a partner to help fill the void?....I tried to be happy. But I wasn’t. And I hated myself for it. I don’t know if my loneliness stirred up my doubts or if my doubts ignited my loneliness, but my sense that the Commander was ‘truth challenged’ increased. I worried that my commitment issues were getting the best of me, and I needed to work through them. But I couldn’t” (20). This agony can invite empathy from the reader, but from a literary standpoint, this dissatisfaction and distrust in Ellin’s relationship also dulled the shock value when she found out that her “meh” fiancé was a con artist. It seemed as though she wanted to get rid of him in the first place, as she explicitly noted just how dull the Commander was.
Despite the lazy portrayal of Ellin’s relationship with the Commander, we see far more nuance in other stories of deception and truth-exaggeration. With these stories, Ellin paints a more sympathetic and well-rounded picture of those who bend the rules. My personal favorite story was that of Peter Young, a man on the run who freed thousands of mink and foxes from fur farms. He changed his identity several times, never had a stable job, and was eventually caught by the police. Ellin acknowledges that part of Young wanted to be on the run due to the drama, the thrilling adrenaline. But he also deceived in order to help free animals from harm. Ellin notes:
"On the one hand, Young was an entitled rich kid who didn’t want to work especially hard and happily took from others. He vandalized. He ruined the livelihoods of many, many people. He lied and misrepresented himself. But the rebellious side of me was entirely behind him….Young fervidly believed in what he was doing. I was also jealous. Oh, to have such loyalty to a cause greater than myself! I’ve longed to believe in something—anything—unconditionally, to be so passionate about a person or cause that I’d be willing to risk jail for it. I envied his conviction, the same way I envy people who believe in Jesus or Allah or amethysts" (57).
Here’s where we get into the most interesting part: we might separate ourselves from con artists, but in reality, we are all deceiving and living double lives, at least to a certain extent. Reflecting on this reality may be uncomfortable, but Ellin makes this point in a non-judgmental yet informative way. We live in an age where we perceive others as “having it all,” and feel pressure to do the same by presenting multiple selves. We aren’t lying per se...more like embellishing. But just like Ellin, we lie when we want to present a marketable self, an extroverted self, or a self who just can’t get enough NASCAR dates. We compartmentalize these selves, and our actions as we transition between them.
A more surprising claim about manipulating reality was that it helps some combat depression. While I initially saw this as a bit of a stretch, it becomes more logical as you consider the reasons why: “impostership ‘represents a defense against depression….As long as [you can] maintain it and work at it then [you don’t] have to think of [yourself] as a depressed and lonely person. A double life is just the way to cover up the turmoil’” (73). Here we see the compassionate depiction of those who lie in a way that fell short with the Commander’s story. We may not forgive those who manipulate and con their way through life, but we can start to build an understanding that these acts can come from pain, rather than malice. They may, as is in Young’s case, be well-intentioned.
Less enticing was Ellin’s implied message that dating simply isn’t worth the fear of being duped. A fair conclusion after being lied to twice, but it also reinforces paranoia that may not be healthy for those of us who are perhaps...more suspicious than the average person. Treading carefully in a new relationship is wise, but avoiding dating altogether may be a bit extreme (for some. This is a separate discussion from those who are simply uninterested in dating). It’s true that betrayal from love can make it feel like your insides have been ripped out, and research shows that PTSD caused by loved ones is far worse than PTSD from natural disasters; in short, love is agonizing. Many of us lie more than we’d care to admit to our partners. But I almost wish that Ellin would pair the couples who broke due to deception with those who worked through it to illustrate the line between pure, con-man level deception and manipulation of reality that we all fall subject to.
This text also had some contradiction that seemed a fault of Ellin’s editor: most prominent was Ellin’s claim that “people show you who they are in the first two minutes you meet them: two seconds, if you believe Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink” (31). A few pages later, she states, “when you meet somebody for the first time, you’re not meeting them. You’re meeting their representative” (44). It could be that Ellin is comparing research, or other authors’ claims, but she does not make that clear, as she fails to further explore the competing arguments and land on a unique conclusion.
Despite the minor flaws of this text—namely that I am terrified to ever download Bumble again—it was an engaging read. Ellin’s voice is informal, each chapter is gripping, and there are some new ideas I didn’t know about (like rape by deception: if you have consensual sex with someone who is lying about their identity, that becomes rape). This book could have been better organized, as I felt like we were flipping between the Commander story and other anecdotes for no particular reason. However, it’s clear that Ellin is passionate about this topic, and she has conducted some fascinating research about deception. If you’re okay with some paranoia and won’t conclude that your friend is feigning cancer just to move in with and control you, I would recommend that you read this book. You might just learn something—not just about those around you, but the less comfortable parts of yourself.
In this text, Ellin shares the story of meeting “The Commander,” allegedly a Navy SEAL officer. She is swept up by his stories of going on super secret missions in Afghanistan, of having meetings with Obama, and of saving soldiers’ lives. After a speedy engagement with the Commander, Ellis finds out that her fiancé has been lying the entire time—while he was a doctor and did work for the FBI, he was never a Navy SEAL and used his past marriages and relationships to get illegal prescriptions for Vicodin, an addiction that he kept secret among everyone he knew. Interspersed with Ellin’s narrative is research about deceit, motivations behind compulsive liars, and anecdotes that illustrate both the variety and commonality of lying.
Truthfully, I found the story of the Commander kind of boring. He was charming, and the story provided a stable foundation for Ellin’s research, but it was difficult to be invested in their relationship. Perhaps I am a broken reader and care little for the main stories in a book, but there seemed to be little care in fleshing out the Commander’s character, or Ellin’s reasons for being interested in him. Yes, I can relate to Ellin’s justification that she was lonely, she didn’t want to disrupt stability. Ellin’s internal reflections perfectly mirror those of us who have so badly wanted to settle into relationships that we always knew were off: “I was most alone in the wrong relationship….I wanted this relationship to work” (13), and “I was so lonely. Wasn’t the whole point of having a partner to help fill the void?....I tried to be happy. But I wasn’t. And I hated myself for it. I don’t know if my loneliness stirred up my doubts or if my doubts ignited my loneliness, but my sense that the Commander was ‘truth challenged’ increased. I worried that my commitment issues were getting the best of me, and I needed to work through them. But I couldn’t” (20). This agony can invite empathy from the reader, but from a literary standpoint, this dissatisfaction and distrust in Ellin’s relationship also dulled the shock value when she found out that her “meh” fiancé was a con artist. It seemed as though she wanted to get rid of him in the first place, as she explicitly noted just how dull the Commander was.
Despite the lazy portrayal of Ellin’s relationship with the Commander, we see far more nuance in other stories of deception and truth-exaggeration. With these stories, Ellin paints a more sympathetic and well-rounded picture of those who bend the rules. My personal favorite story was that of Peter Young, a man on the run who freed thousands of mink and foxes from fur farms. He changed his identity several times, never had a stable job, and was eventually caught by the police. Ellin acknowledges that part of Young wanted to be on the run due to the drama, the thrilling adrenaline. But he also deceived in order to help free animals from harm. Ellin notes:
"On the one hand, Young was an entitled rich kid who didn’t want to work especially hard and happily took from others. He vandalized. He ruined the livelihoods of many, many people. He lied and misrepresented himself. But the rebellious side of me was entirely behind him….Young fervidly believed in what he was doing. I was also jealous. Oh, to have such loyalty to a cause greater than myself! I’ve longed to believe in something—anything—unconditionally, to be so passionate about a person or cause that I’d be willing to risk jail for it. I envied his conviction, the same way I envy people who believe in Jesus or Allah or amethysts" (57).
Here’s where we get into the most interesting part: we might separate ourselves from con artists, but in reality, we are all deceiving and living double lives, at least to a certain extent. Reflecting on this reality may be uncomfortable, but Ellin makes this point in a non-judgmental yet informative way. We live in an age where we perceive others as “having it all,” and feel pressure to do the same by presenting multiple selves. We aren’t lying per se...more like embellishing. But just like Ellin, we lie when we want to present a marketable self, an extroverted self, or a self who just can’t get enough NASCAR dates. We compartmentalize these selves, and our actions as we transition between them.
A more surprising claim about manipulating reality was that it helps some combat depression. While I initially saw this as a bit of a stretch, it becomes more logical as you consider the reasons why: “impostership ‘represents a defense against depression….As long as [you can] maintain it and work at it then [you don’t] have to think of [yourself] as a depressed and lonely person. A double life is just the way to cover up the turmoil’” (73). Here we see the compassionate depiction of those who lie in a way that fell short with the Commander’s story. We may not forgive those who manipulate and con their way through life, but we can start to build an understanding that these acts can come from pain, rather than malice. They may, as is in Young’s case, be well-intentioned.
Less enticing was Ellin’s implied message that dating simply isn’t worth the fear of being duped. A fair conclusion after being lied to twice, but it also reinforces paranoia that may not be healthy for those of us who are perhaps...more suspicious than the average person. Treading carefully in a new relationship is wise, but avoiding dating altogether may be a bit extreme (for some. This is a separate discussion from those who are simply uninterested in dating). It’s true that betrayal from love can make it feel like your insides have been ripped out, and research shows that PTSD caused by loved ones is far worse than PTSD from natural disasters; in short, love is agonizing. Many of us lie more than we’d care to admit to our partners. But I almost wish that Ellin would pair the couples who broke due to deception with those who worked through it to illustrate the line between pure, con-man level deception and manipulation of reality that we all fall subject to.
This text also had some contradiction that seemed a fault of Ellin’s editor: most prominent was Ellin’s claim that “people show you who they are in the first two minutes you meet them: two seconds, if you believe Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink” (31). A few pages later, she states, “when you meet somebody for the first time, you’re not meeting them. You’re meeting their representative” (44). It could be that Ellin is comparing research, or other authors’ claims, but she does not make that clear, as she fails to further explore the competing arguments and land on a unique conclusion.
Despite the minor flaws of this text—namely that I am terrified to ever download Bumble again—it was an engaging read. Ellin’s voice is informal, each chapter is gripping, and there are some new ideas I didn’t know about (like rape by deception: if you have consensual sex with someone who is lying about their identity, that becomes rape). This book could have been better organized, as I felt like we were flipping between the Commander story and other anecdotes for no particular reason. However, it’s clear that Ellin is passionate about this topic, and she has conducted some fascinating research about deception. If you’re okay with some paranoia and won’t conclude that your friend is feigning cancer just to move in with and control you, I would recommend that you read this book. You might just learn something—not just about those around you, but the less comfortable parts of yourself.
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