The title cloud of Matt Donovan’s A Cloud of Unusual Size and Shape refers to the volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius that in 79 AD buried the city of Pompeii under twenty feet of ash. It’s no surprise, then, that Donovan found the sacred ruins a site of inspiration and power, using their legacy to form the beginning of this extraordinary nonfiction debut. Donovan pursues the image of the cloud throughout these 15 spell-binding essays on ruin and redemption.
A Cloud of Unusual Size and Shape is about the flawless connections between antiquity and the present, personal experience to historical events, architecture to art installation to literature. The redemptive power of beauty hovers over this spectacular work, reminding us that darkness and light make an inextricable pattern over our lives and form the delicate balance of what ultimately makes life worthwhile, what gives meaning to the sorrow and joy of being human.
Donovan's words beg to be savored - so I obliged, and took my time with this piece. So glad I did. Each essay weaves a special blend of art and literary criticism with memories, anecdotes, and other stories. The first half of the book combines a family vacation walk through the various houses of Pompeii, to a number of disparate subjects - and it works so beautifully. Reminiscent of Annie Dillard.
The larger theme here is ruin and loss. In a geographic sense, he tours sites of ruin and destruction: the Trinity site in New Mexico where the atomic bomb was built and tested, and the Pompeii houses. Donovan then moves into standalone pieces, still running on this larger theme. In some later essays, he will take a well-known artwork (like Masaccio's Expulsion from the Garden of Eden), describing the artist, the work, the method, and meld it with a story from his past. It's brilliantly done, and beautiful to read. In No Fuller on Earth, he juxtaposes the work of Raphael with the work of his recently passed friend, Kate Carr, and her modern art. It's a beautiful tribute to his friend, and a very contemplative piece.
The essay, Towards Some Blossoms More or Less was a favorite of mine, perhaps for its local connection living in the DC area where the blooming of the cherry blossoms is a big event each spring (about 2 weeks ago...). Donovan employs etymology - always a plus for me - noting that the Japanese sakura means "cherry blossom", but also "evanescence". How very zen. He goes on to tell a short history the blossoms and their eponymous festival - of the First Lady Helen Taft, planting the first of the gifted cherry blossoms in 1912 along the Tidal Basin of the Potomac in DC to the convenient renaming of the trees during WWII / anti-Japanese sentiment as "Oriental flowering trees". Throughout, he threads some analysis on Basho's haiku and Japanese history.
An extraordinary book that will make you think, savor, and contemplate.
“Matt Donovan’s expansive erudition over fourteen meditations on ruin and redemption is never deadening: everything from painting, architecture, engineering, sculpture, photography, film, literature, music, geography, history, and mythology seems to be embraced in large loops.” - Keith Garebian
This book was reviewed in the January/February 2017 issue of World Literature Today magazine. Read the full review by visiting our website:
So, does a book where the author ruminates on devastation and loss and our relationship to them sound like a good read? Didn't think so - but it is! And like the cloud on the cover, I found the stories and the way he relates the past, near and far, to his present, uplifting in a slow and calming manner. His meditations are reflective and thoughtfully make space for wonder.