Descriptions of Heaven - Randal Eldon Greene

In Randal Eldon Greene's debut novel, the author has some astounding ideas that, although they coalesce quite excellently, never quite attain the reach the reader is hoping for.

To his credit, Greene doesn't shy away from the 'big' metaphors. In Descriptions of Heaven we have the elusive 'lake monster', the house with its myriad hidden doors and passageways, the book on linguistics that Robert struggles with throughout. All of these things converge and rotate on the same axis - the impending death of Natalia, Robert's wife.

With their son Jesse they relocate to this strange house by the lake, a house built by an eccentric and mentally ill architect. When a supposed sighting of a monster in the lake brings news reporters to the area, we learn that Natalia is terminally ill. What follows is an attempt on Robert's part to make sense of both life and death.

A confirmed atheist, Robert reckons with language in an attempt to find much needed answers. But this is an area in which the author does not delve deeply enough. Aside from the odd reference to the scholarly book he is working on, the occasional lamenting of his 'analytical skill' in laying out words 'like cadavers' and 'measuring their spare parts', we see very little of his existential battle through his scholarly work.

In Natalia's character, as well, and in the character of the family as a whole, there is a lack which acutely affects one's experience of her death. Her shortening life span fails somehow to add tension or a sense of urgency, and fails even in bringing the family together and characterising them through their struggle. The threat of the ever-mysterious lake monster (a skillful objective correlative) subsides and goes unmentioned after the first third of the book (though it does re-emerge at the end to good effect).

Greene simply has difficulty getting the right tone. Robert is intelligent and imparts some interesting pieces of metaphysical wisdom, however the timing for these monologues is often slightly askew and sometimes his imagery stretches a little too far:

Where had the time gone? Had it drifted like summer's heat out over the ocean and up, even farther, past the atmosphere, and into the unreachable spaces where nothing but the residue of alpha's violent and ballooning beginning floats with no sentient thought to quantify it? And, beyond that, is it pulled finally into the mouth of omega, that infinitesimal puncture on the surface of God's perfect canvas where all creations paint will eventually drain. 

As an example, and as intelligently depicted as it is, this image takes us so far beyond the sense of time passing that it becomes almost nonsensical, certainly whimsical and superfluous.

Yet, despite its downfalls, Descriptions of Heaven has much to commend it. Greene does not give in, at the end, to Robert and Jesse's desperate need to find answers. There are mysteries in life that will always remain as such, and the novel is faithful to this fact. I was left with the characters' desolation, and thoughts of the eccentric architect of the strange house, who had tried escaping God by hiding in the hidden passageways he built into the house.

Descriptions of Heaven is a strong exploration of the constant, unfathomable presence of death. It falters, as anything that deals so nakedly with such a powerful topic will, yet is true to its own desolate philosophy. One might feel that, were it a little longer, it might have performed its hefty feat a little better. Certainly I look forward to what the author has to offer in the future.

pp. 130
Published: Harvard Square Editions, November 2016 (this is an Advance Release Copy)