I must admit, I have a tendency to judge books by their covers. Haunting the shelves of Unnameable Books one lazy Sunday, I happened upon Joe Meno's The Great Perhaps and was instantly intrigued - a giant squid? Pigeons? A homemade bomb? Thirsting for a curious tale, I scooped it up and wandered home, pleased to embark upon a strange new odyssey.
Meno's novel portrays the daily highs and lows of a dysfunctional Chicagoan family set in the weeks preceding the 2004 presidential election. Each chapter is told from the perspective of a different family member - Jonathan, the father, is floundering in his career. Suffering from lifelong seizures set off by the mere glimpse of a cloud, he lives in a hazy, otherworldly state, consumed by his life's passion - capturing and studying a giant squid. Madeline, his wife and fellow scientist analyzing pigeon mating patterns, is dissatisfied with Jonathan's neglect. Captivated by a cloud-like shape she sees hovering over their yard, she wrestles with leaving Jonathan to follow this enigmatic mist. Amelia, their 17 year old daughter, is a budding Marxist obsessed with teaching her fellow high school students about the evils of consumerism. Outfitting herself in a black and grey cardboard costume, she lectures students about the storm cloud of capitalism shadowing the world. Thisbe, their younger daughter, is struggling with her sexuality. Each afternoon finds her at a local park with a fellow female classmate, sprawled out with hands touching and eyes closed, flying amongst the clouds together. Confused about her feelings, she turns to God for answers her inattentive parents can't provide. And Henry, Jonathan's father, declines alone in a nursing home. A former aeronautical engineer during WWII, he is wracked with guilt over designing planes used to bomb the Japanese. Sending himself letters each day explaining his past life's work, he also plots his escape to the airport, hoping to be embraced by the clouds once again.
As the title suggests, the novel highlights the ambiguity and anxiety found in life and in love. Both Jonathan and Madeline care deeply for each other, but neither are able to communicate their needs. As a result, their marriage hurtles ever forward towards divorce, although neither truly want to separate. While they try to relate to their children as adults, and are very hands-off in their upbringing, their daughters instead desire more structure and less honesty. Nobodies' needs are being adequately met, and no one can even begin to understand how to alter this destructive course.
In the end, Meno's dystopian view of the American family left me dissatisfied. The story began with promise, and I was initially enthralled by the compelling narratives of Jonathan and Madeline as they dissected their marriage. However, characters initially grounded in reality became more erratic and peculiar as the tale progressed. The conclusion of the novel similarly disappoints; though the book sets the reader up for a cataclysmic finale, the author instead abruptly ties up these loose threads in a neat, little package. I felt unable to comprehend how Meno got from point A to point B, with so many of the books' special, unconventional moments negated by a tacked-on ending. The metaphorical cloud motif, too, never really found its mark, and the story proved as nebulous as the magical realistic element interspersed into each character study.
In a sentence? Although my impromptu selection turned out to be a Wes Anderson movie without the quirky charm, I will forever be tempted by thought-provoking book jackets.
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