What We're Reading: The Eyes & The Impossible by Dave Eggers

I just finished reading Dave Egger’s recent novel, The Eyes & The Impossible.  Though technically written for a middle grade audience, I’d recommend it to readers of any age.  Told from the perspective of a lovable, wild dog named Johannes living in an urban park, this story gives readers a unique look at the nature of self-discovery and perception, and our unique roles in the equilibrium of our various ecosystems.  

The main character, Johannes, is lovable in his genuine good will towards other creatures, as well as his humorously inflated perception of himself.  Johannes is “The Eyes” of the park; along with his friends/assistants, he reports all that he sees to the three elder Bison living in captivity in the park.  After his own freedom is threatened by a close call run-in with humans, Johannes is determined to achieve the impossible: he vows to free his captive Bison friends.  In the course of intricate, carefully-wrought plans, Johannes comes to discover surprising truths about his past, his self, his home, and also his friends.  

Johannes offers readers a beautiful, complicated perspective on humans’ systems and eccentricities.  While humans present certain dangers to his freedom, he also can’t help but be drawn to the beautiful aspects of this strange human world: his love of the mysterious rectangles on display in the museum, his love of humans dancing in the park, his concern for a young child’s safety at the pond, etc.  Like any coming of age story, the more Johannes learns about the world and creatures beyond his home, the more he understands his ever-evolving self and the possibilities available to him.

This story is humorous, thought-provoking, and uplifting—and I immediately wanted to read it again to make sure I could wring out every last bit of symbolism.  Like every good piece of writing reaches out to touch its readers, this too resonated with my own experiences.  Johannes is a careful planner; he pays attention to the world around him, and goes to great lengths to do right by his friends and hisself.  He thinks he understands who he is and what his world is, but he’s limited—like all of us—by his own perception.  He’s reminded that, together, we can understand more.  See more.  Do more.  Animals, humans, nature—all of us.  

When Johannes’ den is unjustly blocked by humans, he turns to his friend Sonja, who readily empathizes.  “Her anger made me feel good,” Johannes narrates.  “I can’t explain it.  It’s like she took the fire inside me, put it in a torch, and then set it between us.  It was no longer just mine” (162).

Wow—I love that writing.

What’s more, as Johannes’ elaborate plan faces a time constraint, the support of his friend means the difference between the impossible becoming reality or not:

“Sometimes in this life so much depends on one friend simply saying, Yes, we must do this.

“Or Yes, I see it that way, too.

“Or It is high time we do something great and grand.” (179)

How true that rings!  For me, my husband is that friend who pushes me, loves me, supports me, such that I can have courage, most days, to face change and do the seemingly impossible.  He is the one who told me in essence, “It is high time we do something great and grand,” as we took this leap together writing children’s stories and fulfilling shared dreams.  I write today because he had faith in me to do so.  He lovingly reminds me to have courage to do the things I want to do, and be the person I want to be.

There’s so much more out there than what we can actually see—and so much more, always, to learn.  Thank goodness for books and stories like this one.  Books too act as supportive friends, spurring us to understand more, see more, do more.

I might be like Johannes in my sometimes inflated perception of myself, and in my surety that I’m seeing or understanding more than I actually am.  Thankfully, Johannes receives support from his friends, and it’s my hope that each of you recognizes those people—and those stories—who help you find courage and equilibrium in your own life.  

Let’s read more stories, like this one, so that we might have courage to understand more, see more, do more.