The Definitions

A Novel

De: Matt Greene

Narrado por: Jess Nahikian

An elegant, haunting dystopian novel about individuals relearning how to navigate the world after a mysterious illness strips them of their memories

Nestled in an idyllic locale beside the sea, the Center is a place of rehabilitation for those afflicted by a strange illness that has swept through the population, erasing their memories and any sense of identity. Students arrive at the Center nameless—none of them know who they are or how they got there.

Each day, they attend classes that will help them relearn the right ways to speak and live; they practice the roles they hope to assume once they graduate and return to society. In their free time, they negotiate a burgeoning social hierarchy and watch old videos together, stories of characters whose names they adopt: Maria, Chino, Ross, Chandler, Gunther . . . But as flashes of memories—of pets, lovers, errands, and beloved music—emerge, some students start to question the Center’s strict instruction and begin to explore different ways in which they might define themselves.

A stunning, intimately told story about what makes us who we are, The Definitions examines the limits of language, the power of connection, and how the human spirit can flourish even under the most oppressive conditions.

©2025 by Matt Greene. (P)2025 Brilliance Publishing, Inc., all rights reserved.

Words Matter

This book sneaks up on you. At first, it feels like quiet dystopian fiction: memory instability, institutional “solutions,” that sort of thing. But what unsettled me wasn’t the speculative premise. It was the language. I’ve always believed words are how we agree on reality. When meanings start to slide — even subtly — something deeper feels off. The Definitions by Matt Greene sits right there in that discomfort.
The pacing is slow. Very slow. Nothing explosive happens. Things just… shift. And that restraint feels intentional. It’s less about plot and more about continuity — what makes a self a self if memory can be altered, softened, or smoothed over. I kept thinking about how memory isn’t just verbal recall; it’s embodied. You carry it even when you can’t articulate it.
One line that stayed with me:
“I’ve come to understand that language is like the molds in the trays we use to bake muffins: that without it everything flows into everything else. The molds are necessary but are also a compromise: language allows us to communicate ideas and feelings that are not quite our own.”
That metaphor captures the tension at the heart of the book. Language shapes us, contains us, allows us to connect — but it also limits and smooths. That idea lingered.
The ending didn’t offer a neat resolution, but it clicked for me emotionally. It felt consistent and earned.
I’m glad I read it, but this won’t be for everyone. I’d recommend it to readers drawn to language, identity, and thoughtful dystopian fiction that unsettles quietly rather than dramatically.

Too much about biting the wart off someone's foot

Interesting thoughts about language but there is no plot here. And after the millionth mention about biting the wart off Maria's foot, I gave up halfway through.