The Principles of Uncertainty

Maria Kalman’s The Principles of Uncertainty is a delightful and thought-provoking meditation on the human experience, legacies, and the meaning of life. The book is nothing short of a visual experience, its pages covered in whimsical painted illustrations and populated with handwritten captions and related thoughts. Kalman takes a stream-of-consciousness approach in her writing, flowing from one idea to another with seemingly no rhyme or reason, accompanied by stylized visuals that overall create the effect of having been placed inside Kalman’s completely sensational brain. She has such an eye for detail, and such an obvious love for humanity and the people around her, whether these people are her family, friends, or complete strangers. Strangers, in fact, she seems to enjoy especially, their gently painted visages and colorful clothing populating a great number of pages. Towards the end of her book, Kalman introduces her family first as strangers before bringing up her relation to them, almost to emphasize their similarity with all the nameless faces she has lovingly rendered throughout the pages.

As I read The Principles of Uncertainty, I found myself again and again returning to the theme of the universal human experience. Throughout her novel, Kalman weaves a wide and intricate web between countless people, joined by the simple fact that at one point or another, Kalman knew them in some way—whether that knowledge came from a history book, her personal life, or a chance passing on the streets of a busy city. The section of the novel denoted “January 3, 2007” is notable for its inclusion of photographs, which are used here far more than any other place in the book. These pictures depict nameless subjects walking in front of the camera, with their backs turned to the viewer. The location of each picture is rarely stated outright, but they evidently come from all over, sidewalks and subway stations and museums. “Everyone is going forward.” Kalman says in her loopy script, “And everyone is behind everyone. And everyone is looking ahead. To the future. And people walk together. In step” (Kalman 208-211). This was my favorite notion I came across in my reading, however elementary it might sound out loud—that we’re all just people, going to different places, maybe, but in the same direction, forward. In that way, I feel like it means all of us are walking together, whether we know it or not.