We Had to Remove This Post, by Hanna Bervoets tells the story of a woman that begins working as a content moderator for a large tech company named Hexa (ie, Meta). Here she finds friends and even romance while she is reviewing grotesque, violent, and offensive content. This novella was suggested to me via Irish writer, Naoise Dolan’s Instagram story, who seemed pretty positive about it due to its unexpected queer storyline. If you’re reading this looking for a book recommendation, read Dolan’s Exciting Times instead, which I enjoyed much more. Though, We Had to Remove This Post is quite short and can be read in one sitting. It definitely has an interesting concept to explore, and I had hoped for a much more sophisticated psychosexual thriller with sociopolitical commentary. I had hoped for David Cronenberg meets Michel Houellebecq meets Black Mirror. Unfortunately, it instead fell pretty flat for me. However, I do appreciate its cover designs. Which I will share below, in order of preference.
While a good idea, it was not very well executed. The narration style reminds me of YA books I read as a teen, with the protagonist trying to sound edgy and nihilistic. I suppose it could be described as metamodern, with her yearning for intimacy despite being cynical and jaded from a landscape of toxic content, but it could have been done so much better. Other than the occasional description of pretty typical sadistic things one might find on the internet, it felt rather mundane with poor character development. I am pretty disappointed, especially because it is written by a Dutch writer (benefit of the doubt, perhaps the writing style can be blamed on a poor translation). I lived in the Netherlands for three years in my early 20s and found myself projecting my own memories and images onto the story while listening to the audio version. But other than some of the characters having names that might be less common in other countries, its locational felt pretty generic, like it could have taken place anywhere. For the sake of my own nostalgia, it would have been nice to have more Dutch details as simple as describing Amsterdam or the Canals or bitterballen or herring or kapsalon. Perhaps that would have not been as marketable for an Anglo audience. Maybe this was the writer’s intention, and attempt to show how the internet and digital media affects us all. It reminds me of when I listen to Jaron Lanier speak of these things (one of the creators of the internet). He will describe how the internet has affected our cognitive abilities and how no matter where one travels, there is now an underlying collective anxiety. He has many ideas on possible solutions, and even suggests to “double down on being human”. Very metamodern.
I also wonder about the accuracy of depicting it in a western multicultural context. I could be wrong, but I thought that the people that hold these types of jobs are usually in developing nations, working at all hours of the day, and often developing PTSD. Something else that annoyed me about this novella was this one inner monologue that the protagonist had about her and her colleagues’ minority statuses (queer, Jewish, POC, etc.) and how ironic it was that they shared a dark politically incorrect humor amongst one another. It felt tokenized, and cliché. There was also one line that really made me roll my eyes where she sarcastically points out that, shockingly, even heterosexuals were a “protected category” to consider when reviewing content. Other than this detail, it focuses more on the relationships and psychology of the protagonist, and does not go too deeply into the politics of content moderation. It doesn’t even go as deeply into the psyche as it really should. As the story progresses, relationships between characters deteriorate and the protagonist’s lover grows more and more irritable and their communication further breaks down. Again, I could see what the writer was trying to describe here, but it just was not fleshed out or stylized enough. It reminds me of a recent conversation that I had with a colleague. We both have felt that so much screen time is like a constant low-level burn out and subtle irritability that has maybe affected our short term memory. It is relatable to many of us, especially since the pandemic and ongoing global tensions. I also feel distant from many people—either literally because I have moved too many times to too many places, or algorithmically/ideologically/culturally. Maybe also I am just getting older and everyone gets busy. There are people from my time in the Netherlands that I reflect on now, curious to know what they are up to. Sometimes I will look at their social medias (if they have), but sometimes we do not follow one another, and maybe it would be awkward to add them now. It was a strange phase in my life, so some characters were just meant to stay in that capsule of time. I will see one friend that I am still in touch with this weekend, though :) we will meet in Brussels.
I write this vague, kind of half-hearted book review in my last weeks before I leave Europe to go back to North America. After the pandemic, it was much needed to reconnect in these past 8 months. It’s bittersweet, as I am going back for a pretty good reason (person). I will miss it here, but I am also exhausted.
As someone else who's moved around a lot your description of disconnect resonates with me. It's good to hear you're coming back to North America for wholesome reasons, are you planning to stay put once you're here?
I hadn't heard of these volumes, so it was nice to see some thoughts on them from you :) I may check out Exciting Times, though I'm currently abstaining from buying more books - I'm in the bad habit of buying them faster than I read them!