Michael Kaufman’s ponderously titled first novel is not entirely successful, but it isn’t marred by any glaring ineptitude or any single, tragic flaw. Rather, the writing includes both small triumphs and moments of awkwardness as it moves toward a subtle and satisfying conclusion that almost redeems its failures.

Eli Schuman, a 40-ish, divorced high-school teacher in Cleveland, picks up an old hitchhiker who tells him that some years ago he saw Marilyn Monroe alive and well in rural Ohio. Eli starts poking around farms and small communities to see if there’s any truth to it, thinking perhaps he may write a book about it.

This subplot is woven into the much more interesting story of Eli and Alex, a woman he meets in a bookstore while researching Monroe’s life, and Kaufman shows off his best writing as he explores this relationship. Alex was crippled in a car accident a few years earlier, and while Eli loves her he can’t shake the feeling that he can do better. As the story moves forward, the reader realizes what Eli does not – that he’s looking for a perfect woman who does not exist.

This hopeless quest for the perfect woman is mirrored by the Monroe subplot, but it’s not a terribly interesting parallel. For much of the novel it’s little more than an excuse to fill pages with a summary of the Monroe biography Eli is reading. And while Kaufman’s exploration of Eli’s guilt and indecision is well handled, there’s an irritating earnestness in other aspects of the writing. Eli’s boomer angst and 1960s nostalgia feel like they’re really the author’s, as do the banal asides that often interrupt the story.

Ultimately, Eli finds the farmhouse said to house Monroe, and once he does the novel overcomes its weaknesses. In the final chapters Kaufman answers all of the novel’s nagging questions and ties together all its loose ends with a conclusion that has just the right amount of ambiguity and hope. Even the title finally makes sense.