(A ‘Book Club’ reaction to Mitch Albom’s novel)
This extraordinary ‘adult Fairy Tale’* is remarkably stimulating in its treatment of a taboo subject – death. So readable and unconventional a biography – chronologically backwards and forwards at the same time – portrays with great honesty the life of Eddie, a fairground maintenance man, through the mundane and momentous events shaping his life.
It is a story of considerable novelty; a novel that dwells on the absolute virtues in a way that stirs the reader’s own perceptions of life, death and the after-life.
Inevitably, one’s own values and beliefs are challenged. To my mind heaven is in the realm of the imagination, (where Albom excels). Hell is in the realm of truth. It’s where all us are; trying to find our bearings. Eddie winds up in purgatory. It’s unfinished business since he’s inspired by the five most significant influences of his existence, but he ages again in the process. Does he in turn become a soothsayer? Or does he transmute yet again? Maybe that’s to be Albom’s sequel.
To my mind heaven as an after-life is a pipedream – a construct of our mystical mindset. The birds and the bees have no such inkling. Or do they? How would I know? I actually prefer the Hindu concept of returning as some other species, rather than the fantasy of dwelling with angels or their infernal counterparts.
In my life there have been major turning points and role models that I revere. Like Eddie, we are shaped by circumstance and the limits of our nurturer’s horizons. We are indoctrinated for our own good and that of society, but the handed-down mythology is for each new generation to confront. Our ultimate wisdom derives from one’s personal experience, learning through experimentation.
It is tempting to guess which personal forbears or compatriots, be they family or friend, familiar or foreign, would be among my five. Why only five? I’d appreciate the reflections of so many influences. Would Mac claimed that I killed him? He was run over when he should have been on the lead. And what would Bobby say to me? “Give us a kiss!”? As for our canary whose name I’ve already forgotten, would she still sing sweet arpeggios, having escaped the cage?
Heaven is a state of mind; the emotional pinnacle to which we are transported by some miraculous fusion ot all the senses in a perfect accord with all around. It is inspired by beauty, be it art, music, discovery, or a revelation that projects us beyond ourselves. Life after physical death is incredible, except insofar as the material of our physical being persists and the fact of our being endures within the consciousness of humanity. The Christian burial service declares ‘from dust to dust’ but life has two metamorphoses; from sperm to species and from species to spirit (and compost). I shall be drowned or buried, but never divined.
I use ‘adult’ in its original, innocent sense.
Mitchell Bomb (18/2/10)
