Surrealist art is a genre that I find very confusing and at times disheartening. What makes it such a unique genre is the series of questions it forces one to ask, be it the meaning or motivation behind the piece, what the creators intentions may or may not have been and probably the most basic one that we all experience "just what the hell is that exactly". I think this is what makes it such a compelling genre to many of us. Unfortunately there is a downside, if your the kind of person that expects answers or deeper meanings, many times you're left twisting in the wind. I find many "artists" who claim to be surrealists to be nothing more than narcissistic pricks with incredible imaginations. Half complete artists, who posses the means to say something, but have absolutely nothing important to say. And when confronted with this complaint they retreat into the condescending world of simply saying there is no deeper meaning to art, or that it isn't art's mission to answer questions, or very simply "you just dont get it".
The Ticking is very much a work of surrealist fiction, and luckily, it doesn't fall into the trappings of the genre and those who work within it. The sense of wonder is there, as is the constant questioning. Like many works within the genre, the road to overall understanding is very long and very personal. Unlike the many works within the genre though there is something tangible to take away when you reach the end of that road. What I find most incredible is that the story deals with so much pain, and yet it never transfers that pain onto you. Maybe because it's told in such a small, fragmented manner. I would fault the story for this, but in it's defense, the overall message of the triumph of will and the beauty of what the human spirit can achieve gets through more than just fine. In the end I'm actually glad it turned out that way, had it been very heavy handed on the pain I probably would have missed the point entirely.
What I got at the end of the book was this intense "good feeling". Not the kind of feeling that can be summed up with the usual "heart warming" or "touching" or "feel good" or whatever other platitudes that are usually thrown around. No, it's more of a sense of achievement. Seeing Ed grow, and become more and more beautiful, despite his disfigurement, through his desire to find meaning and place left me with a sense of optimism and hope that I have never experienced through any kind of surrealist work (I will admit I'm not a expert on the genre though so maybe there are more experiences like this out there).
I think this is very much a universal work, despite its often times confusing narrative exposition. Don't go in expecting all the answers to emerge automatically or for them to be spelled out for you. This is very much a gentle, almost naturalistic work. If you sit back and let it run it's course, the mountain of mystery will erode. And what you are left with, is the kind of thing that makes you happy to be alive.