The Floating Opera

Todd controls the narrative, and he uses this authority to promote his life philosophy: Nothing in life has intrinsic value. He takes up various hobbies, from piano to tennis to boats, but nothing becomes his life’s purpose. Even when Todd picks up boatmaking again and takes it more seriously, he states it doesn’t matter how well he does anything: “ […] I did everything correctly right from the beginning. Not that I believe, as many people do, that there is some intrinsic ethical value in doing things properly rather than improperly” (69). Todd’s curiosity leads to him trying new things, but the more he tries, the less meaning he finds in anything. His character arc becomes one of lost illusion, journeying out into the world only for it to be disappointing.

Todd grows up to be an effective lawyer, giving him another chance to find a passion and take value in his work, but his occupation doesn’t fulfill him either. Thinking on the law, he finds it shallow:

But of most things about which people hold some sort of opinion, I have none at all, except by implication. What I mean is this: the law, for example, prescribes certain things that shall not be done, or certain ways in which things shall not be done, but of most specific human acts it has nothing to say one way or the other. (85)

For Todd, most human action doesn’t necessitate a law. The law loses significance, and human behavior becomes inconsequential. Todd’s career gives him hands-on experience with a paramount human construct, the justice system. His experience, however, doesn’t gift him with integrity or honor. Instead, he treats the justice system like a game. He picks cases based on their entertainment value and often doesn’t care about the stakes involved, as with Harrison’s inheritance case. Todd’s viewpoint isn’t entirely bleak, however. When Todd’s suicide plan fails, he goes on with his life because neither that life nor its end is of significant consequence. His life and his death are of equal value.

Todd strikes a balance. He never loses his bleak outlook, but he also spends time enjoying simple pleasures, like writing in the evening:

So, I begin each day with a gesture of cynicism, and close it with a gesture of faith; or, if you prefer, begin it by reminding myself that, for me at least, goals and objectives are without value, and close it by demonstrating that the fact is irrelevant. A gesture of temporality, a gesture of eternity. It is the tension between these two gestures that I have lived my adult life. (51)

Cynicism is a core tenet for Todd, but he comes to find he has room for hope and faith too. The change in Todd’s lifestyle and outlook over the course of the novel shows the reader how cynicism encourages a person to question the world around them, then goes on to show a way to live with the meaninglessness they encounter. Todd can be bleak and drab, but he finds positives with his philosophy too. He encourages the reader to break habits occasionally to untap their personal freedom: “There’s little need for weakness, reader: you are freer, perhaps, than you’d be comfortable knowing” (100). Because life only has value when people assign it value, people are free to pick and choose how they want to construct meaning in their lives. The world becomes entirely subjective, but also freeing. In The Floating Opera, Todd deconstructs the world, creating a cynical thematical message—that life is meaningless—while also showing how liberating that realization can be.