Calliope is a book dealing with the reality of loss. Specifically it is the protagonist coming to terms with the idea that as one grows older, one inevitably becomes less enthusiastic, less joyous and intrinsically bored with all of the things he so fervently celebrated in youth. This is the loss the reader is introduced to at the beginning of the book. It is the loss of all material possessions, of innocence, of identity, of sympathy, of happiness, of God and hope. And perhaps it is the latter that the protagonist desires most since all sincere belief in the world springs forth from reverberant visions of hope. This is the crossroads at which is met the electric, orange-haired muse named Calliope. Devoid of morality and with a penchant for mischief, she is for all intents and purposes Greek, which means pre-Christian. Therefore, her moral code is not affected by the guilt of Christianity. Her nakedness throughout the novel in part symbolizes her complete lack of shame. In fact, her insistence on artistic endeavors and a morality hinging on perspectivism helps the protagonist shed all artificial beliefs. Therefore, when Calliope tricks the protagonist into partaking on a wild, episodic flight that intertwines both nature and civilization, that sparks conversations of Nietzsche and Rousseau, that involves shoplifting and punk rock music, she is not unlike Dante's Virgil leading him on an adventure spiraling back toward redemption. It is only after such a journey that the protagonist can make himself into a blank slate, and having achieved such a thing, he is now open to return to that natural state experienced most prominently in youth where possibilities seem endless...where hope replaces loss.