Back in 1996, Canadian writer Geoff Ryman conceived the unique idea for 253 as a website. It went live in 1997.
Now that’s all very predictable these days, but back in the late 1990s it would’ve been like now deciding to exist by taking a selfie every 10 seconds—utter madness!
The website was a hit and this led to the 1998 publication of 253 the novel (also known as Tube Theatre), which can be summarised as a character study of 253 individuals on 253 seats of a tube carriage of the London underground. It’s a good read!
Life as Many People in Geoff Ryman’s 253 (Tube Theatre)
All 253 pages are dedicated to a solitary individual, with Ryman telling a short tale (a character study, if you will) of each person making a trek for a momentary iota in their lives.
They’re all making a trek towards something, whether positive or not, in the distant streets of London. It’s innovative stuff and and at turns funny, then poignant, with this also surely one of the first internet-first novels out there.
Travelling between Embankment and Elephant & Castle on January 11th 1995, we have 253 individuals with their bums parked on 253 seats of your standard London tube. Here’s a random one of them with their story to tell:
MRS MADELEINE STRICKLER
Outward appearance
Instant 1960s. Long auburn hair, brown overcoat, left arm across tummy, right hand in ‘Thinker’ position, both resting on top of Acorn computer bag. Contemplates the old gentleman next to her.
Inside information
Freelance editor and journalist. Lived for many years in the Orient, then America, where her children now live. Converted to Buddhism along with her husband. Lives with her father who is sitting next to her. They are visiting a family friend near the Elephant.
What she is doing or thinking
She is remembering a day on the tube in 1957. They were going to a wedding, so she and her sisters were all in ribbons and white. Daddy was in a morning coat. People travelled on the tubes like that in those days. There was an advertising campaign for Heinz on underground posters. Each poster told you which of the varieties a particular Heinz product was: tomato soup, no. 2, brown pickle, no. 37. If you collected all 57, you won a Christmas hamper.
Daddy was a freelance journalist: they needed the hamper. She and her sisters ran up and down the cars dressed for a wedding, squealing. They changed carriage at each station, calling like seagulls, ‘Forty is spaghetti in tomato sauce!’
Then they bumped into teenagers doing the same thing. After that, to keep the secret, they whispered or passed notes.
Madeleine can’t remember if they got the hamper. But where are the children running now? The white dresses? The top hats? She takes her father’s hand.
‘This is the last stop, Daddy,’ she says.
253 is a type of constrained writing literary challenge. Think of Georges Perec’s A Void (1969), written minus the use of the letter e.
Then there’s Oulipo founder Raymond Queneau’s Exercises in Style (1947), which is about retelling the same story in a wild variety of ways.
253 dedicates exactly 253 words for every individual across the book.
There are 252 humans, to be precise, and one other individual who is eventually revealed to be a pigeon who has inadvertently made its way into the underground.
If you’ve ever been to London (we lived there between 2006 and 2009) and, more precisely, been on the London underground, you’ll know it’s all rather magical. At least at first.
There are rushing noises, these a generally quite salubrious sense of humidity, air rushes in from unexpected angles as tube trains rush on into stations, and everything goes at a hell of a rate.
Once it becomes part of your routine, though, its flaws (severe delays and technical problems, mainly) are apparent. Yet, we can’t help but love it. The thing is a marvel of modern engineering.
Despite the sudden delays.
Mr. Wapojif remembers sitting stuck underground Hammersmith for two hours once with a signal failure, with no explanation from the driver. No one on the carriage said a word during the whole thing.
Anyway, 253 apes this London bubble of obliviousness and the book essentially becomes about choosing your favourite character from the 253 individuals.
There are all sorts of strange tales afoot but, for us, our favourite was a jovial older lady who found it hysterically funny her uncle wanted to murder her. Yes, this appealed to our dark sense of humour, but there are 252 others to pick from here so go crazy, eh?
The significance of the date, incidentally, is revealed in the introduction to the book – on that day, Ryman found out a close friend of his was HIV positive. So, there’s some serious weight behind the novel despite its jovial undertones, which is where it stands out.
From page to page, it’s an emotional journey through the lives of individuals. Next time you’re on public transport, stare at the person near you and think: “Gee… that person could really do with losing some weight.” Or something more constructive, it’s up to you.
Geoff Ryman as the Lecturer
In researching what Ryman is up to now, based on this book we last read as students back in 2003, we were pleasantly surprised to find he’s working at Manchester University as lecturer of Creative Writing.
Wouldn’t you know it, we’re from bloody Manchester!
And we actually worked with a colleague in 2018 during a digital marketing role who’d studied with Ryman. Which was a fun little moment!
Ryman has clearly been about the world, as he grew up in Canada but moved to the US of A aged 11, and is now over here in rainy old England.
He’s written 10 books and won 14 awards for his writing.
This is a big thumbs up to one Canadian gentleman who caught on a prescient wave in the mid-1990s, penned an internet novel, has perfected his craft, is now helping others do the same, and is living in one of the best cities on Earth. You go, sir!
