Book Review: The Illumination by Kevin Brockmeier
The Illumination grabbed me from the very first sentence on the dust jacket “What if our pain was the most beautiful thing about us?” Happily, the arresting thought on the dust jacket is not false advertising: unlike so many movies, where a profound, original concept advertised in a trailer disappoints in serving as a vehicle for a jaded story (e.g. Benjamin Button), Brockmeier’s novel actually lives up to the profound curiosity it piques.
The premise of the novel is that inexplicably and all at once, all pain becomes illuminated, hence the title. Pure glory shines out of every wound, whether physical, emotional or mental. Brockmeier riffs on this simple but profound premise, exploring the meaning of pain: its horror, mystery, beauty, glory, transcendence, otherworldliness, intimacy, isolation and much more. Brockmeier skillfully interprets the universal meanings of pain while avoiding the pitfalls of didactisism by telling the intertwining stories of six very different people: a divorced middle-aged woman who works as a compiler of news stories; a photojournalist who has just lost his beloved wife; an abused, autistic boy; a conflicted missionary bachelor; a writer whose unusual illness has isolated and frustrated her; and a homeless bookseller with the power to read people’s minds.
The photojournalist’s lost love journal ties the six stories together, as it passes through all of their hands, bouncing from hospital to home to school to workplace in New York city. The journal works not only a convenient plot device to sew the stories together, it is the heartbeat of the book, a beacon of hope, love, intimacy, beauty, and tenderness in a world of pain, loneliness, disappointment, ugliness and hatred. The journal comforts each of the six lonely, wounded people, providing them with a vision of innocence and joy, reminding them that the world is not the way it ought to be, lest they grow cold and accustomed to their suffering in the rough world.
This excellent novel delighted me. It has most of the things I want out of a novel: depth of artistic vision, heart-aching imagination, profound themes, penetrating insight into the human condition, tenderness that steers clear of sentimentality (for the most part- it does indulge a bit), engaging characters, mystery, and a sense of transcendence. The most obvious quality I look for in a great novel which The Illumination lacked, however, is the simple pleasure of a really good story. While I enjoyed each of the six stories (some more than others), I didn’t set the book down saying “What a good story!”. While the format of six intertwined stories nicely allowed Brockmeier to present a variety of themes on such a multifaceted topic, it also prevented the telling of one grand story.
One might protest my complaint, “Who says novels have to tell one big, grand story?” Point taken- they don’t have to. Having one overarching story is not a sine qua non of the novel; but, in my opinion, I think it is a requirement for the novel par excellance. At least in my mind, the novel is the literary medium for telling one grand, sweeping story. A great novel is read first and foremost simply because it is just such a good story. While there are many compliments I can pay to The Illumination, this isn’t one of them. But then again, it’s not a compliment I can pay to more than a handful of books.
There is so much I could say about this book, and, unlike the last book I read, Month of Sundays, there is so much I want to say. The Illumination is the kind of book that pays to reread; I found myself excitedly flipping back and forth, tracing down motifs and themes. Brockmeier has a distinctive voice; the combination of his vivid imagination and tenderness seems to me his strongest feature as a writer. I hope I’ll be reading this one over and over for years to come, soaking up the wisdom and glory of Brockmeier’s transformative vision of pain.
As Brockmeier wrestles with the knottiness of pain, he fishes up paradox and insight: Pain both isolates and unifies us; pain makes us vulnerable, and thus is a proper occasion for intimacy, however, in our fear, we often cover up our pain, and miss true intimacy; pain is the occasion for heroism but also has the capacity to reduce and diminish us; pain reveals; physical pain is often a manageable distraction from emotional and/or spiritual pain; pain has the power both to simplify and perplex; the most poignant pains are often the least obvious- loneliness, doubt, cosmic alienation, emptiness.
If I had to summarize the book under one theme (which I’m loath to do), I’d have to say the following: pain reveals the beauty and glory of being human. Our capacity to experience pain is directly proportional to our capacity to experience transcendence. It is primarily in being uncomfortable, dissatisfied and alienated from this world that we glimpse the wonder of a more glorious one. The glory within man points to the glory beyond man. If I could only say one thing about Brockmeier’s book it would be this: Blessed are the pained, for theirs is the glory and beauty of another world.
Bottom Line: The Illumination is an imaginative, tender, profound examination of the horror, glory, beauty, and otherworldliness of pain.
Recommendation and Reread Value: I highly recommend this book to any mature reader, but especially for the thoughtful. Not a good book if you prefer highly plot-driven novels, want something mindless or if you are looking for something light and fun. I definitely want to reread this one. I wouldn’t mind owning it actually. J
S. Knox White
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