Human Narratives

 Human Narratives

            Maira Kalman’s book The Principles of Uncertainty is a symphony of the human experience. Kalman centers her story around a fundamental question of human existence. She asks her readers what it means to be alive. From this question, she uses a stream of consciousness narration to take her reader through some of her life experiences. What I am most astonished by is how she was able to answer a grand question with an answer that every human, every day can understand. 

            A reader who picks up on the question she poses might miss her answer if they are too analytical. They would miss the forest for a tree. Kalman wants her reader to see the tree, the forest, and the beauty in the spaces between it all. Multiple times throughout the book, Kalman brings up death and points out the inevitability of the end. “The Sun will blow up in five billion years” (Kalman 220-221). She brings this idea into conversation with her fundamental question when she asks, “all the labor of all the ages, all the devotion, all the inspiration, all the noonday brightness of human genius, are destined to extinction… so now, my friends, if that is true and it IS true, what is the point? A complicated question” (Kalman 173). What she wants her reader to see is that every story she tells is enough to answer these questions. 

            Her story, from a simple measure of displacement from start to finish, moves nowhere. There is no real plot nor a dramatic climax. However, Kalman embraces this. Her point is made with this fact. Her argument is best said on page 197. She writes, “It means, ‘I have enough.’ And that is utterly true. I happen to be alive. End of discussion. But I will go out and buy a hat” (Kalman 197). She writes a counterstory to grand works of fiction that romanticize situations that are impossible for most people. She grounds this book in the real human narrative. The idea of Ich Habe Genug—I have enough.

            Her embrace of humanity reminds me of my service this week. Chaise, my tutee did not have a ton of work and when this happens, we can log off early or talk until the time is up. We ended up talking about her break, her family, Baltimore, school, college aspirations, allergies, social awkwardness, covid, and eye drops. Like Kalman, the conversation was both nothing and everything. Kalman’s book reminded me that while large acts of justice are needed, sometimes sharing a moment is crucial to feeling loved and feeling human.