Walking on Air

Walking on air, the goal of us all, is equal to nirvana. The cast of the mystical circus at the heart of the novel is still lovely: Dad's a gorilla, Mr and Mrs Solomon are chimps, Jack and Jill are dancing dolphins, Boomie's the sexy knife-thrower, to name a few. Papouli oversees it all, the rings of the Sun and Moon, Polyphemus the lion tamer, the performing poodles, the clowns Bob the Grip and Lazarus. With his wife, Mamouli, who wants to walk on air, Papouli performs feats on the high wire. Walking on Air failed to live up the regard I'd held for it all those years. I'm a different reader now, as I like to say, and less susceptible to snake oil. I was surprised, in reading this time, to think the novel has more to do with chakras than with Buddhism. In the end, I grew impatient with its theme of spirituality and mysticism and thought the metaphors and central ideas inelegantly stitched into the narrative.