A Whale of a Tale

I want to tell you a story, but before I do, I need to warn you, it’s extremely possible that throughout the course of the story you may find that I’ve become one of the most polarizing literary devices…the unreliable narrator.

Actually, let’s just go ahead and get my bias out of the way immediately, shall we?

I adore stories about what lurks beneath.

If I had to trace my fascination with deep water danger to a particular point in childhood, I would say it was some long-ago holiday weekend, my family gathered at our cabin on Lake Huron, me sneaking into the room, wide-eyed and terrified while my dad and uncle watched JAWS. And the next morning they expected me to go out perch fishing?! As if!

To this day, I’m much happier with two feet planted firmly in The Double J than I am with them dangling in the ever-churning waters of our Great Lake.

And so, now you know. I was predisposed to obsess over my most recent read, and, most importantly, the subject of this article.

Whalefall by Daniel Kraus is the story of a young man who was swallowed by a whale.

“I’ve already read this story!” you say. “It’s four chapters long and can be found in the Old Testament.”

Ah, but wait! Jonah asked his buddies to throw him from a boat into the Mediterranean Sea. Meanwhile, 17-year-old Jay Gardiner (son of renowned diver, Mitt Gardiner) was swallowed while diving off the coast of California. These stories are not the same.

This novel consumed me. And I devoured it. I inhaled its 336 pages as easily as the 80-foot sperm whale within those pages inhaled Jay Gardiner.

This is a book for anyone who has ever been consumed by grief. By rage. By fear. It’s a book for anyone who has ever written someone off. For anyone who has yearned for reconciliation. It’s a story about a father and a son.

It just happens to take place in the belly of a whale.