The Quiet Battle Between The Man You Are And The One You Pretend To Be
In Jared Siler’s Under the Current, Tristen Rhodes’s life looks perfect, until it isn’t. The reflection staring back at him every morning is a performance: the clean-cut image of success built on quiet exhaustion. Behind the mirror, a man is trying to remember who he was before expectations took over. Siler explores that fragile border between identity and image, the point where pretending starts to hurt more than failure ever could.
When The Voice Inside Becomes Louder Than Applause
It’s haunting how the inner voice doesn’t need an audience. Tristen’s constant ache comes from that whisper that tells him he’s never enough. No promotion, no house, no relationship silences it. And yet, the novel doesn’t frame it as madness; it shows it as awareness. The voice is conscience, grief, and guilt combined. In silence, Tristen isn’t alone; he’s meeting the parts of himself he’s ignored too long.
How Grief Hides Behind The Mask Of Discipline
After his father’s death, Tristen doesn’t mourn; he organizes. He works harder, trains longer, and smiles sharper. Jared Siler shows how grief doesn’t always come with tears; sometimes it comes as relentless control. Discipline becomes Tristen’s disguise. But beneath that structure is a man terrified of falling apart. The book reminds readers that what looks like strength can sometimes be the most fragile armor of all.
The Thin Line Between Drive And Self-Destruction
Tristen’s job in Silicon Valley isn’t just his livelihood; it’s his cage. His boss preaches momentum as manhood, but that philosophy starts to rot from within. Siler paints this world with unnerving precision, where ambition feeds anxiety, and productivity replaces peace. The book doesn’t condemn ambition; it questions what happens when ambition forgets why it started.
Healing Begins Where Perfection Ends
When Tristen meets Julia, the story pauses just enough for him to breathe. She doesn’t save him, she mirrors him. Through her, he starts to see that healing isn’t about fixing what’s broken, but accepting that it was never broken in the first place. Under the Current teaches that the bravest act is not winning, it’s allowing yourself to be seen, scars and all.