Carefully crafted, precious and a little bit magical, Light Boxes by Shane Jones is like a porcelain doll – a children’s toy whose true artistry can be appreciated only by an adult. Some will treasure this doll, admiring its impeccable handiwork. Others will want to smash it.

Where you fall on this spectrum depends on your tolerance for varying font sizes and characters named Thaddeus, your enjoyment of lovely surreal imagery – “the clouds fell apart like wet paper in their hands” – and your affinity for filmmaker Spike Jonze, who is currently adapting Light Boxes for the screen.

The book’s plot begins simply and then quickly waxes eccentric. In an unnamed town, February – which is not just a month but a deity-like character – is cold, snowy and literally unending. More devastating, February has banned hot-air balloons, a popular form of transportation that represents freedom and joy. February also kidnaps children, like Bianca, the daughter of famed balloonist Thaddeus and his wife, Selah.

So Thaddeus and Selah begin a war on February with the help of a group of bird-masked ex-balloonists and a scythe-swinging giant named Caldor Clemens. The army’s battle tactics include: soldiers wearing summer clothes, using steam to melt snow and attaching light boxes to their heads to simulate sunshine. Ultimately, the story is revealed as an allegory of depression and the creative process.

It’s hard not to root for Light Boxes, which was originally published in a print run of 500 by the tiny Publishing Genius Press in 2009; grassroots blog buzz led to cult status, the above-mentioned film deal and this new Penguin edition. And there’s no doubt that Jones can write. His spare, alliterative sentences are flawless and sometimes delightful. But it’s also hard not to be slightly annoyed by how fanciful it all is. Too often this tale of people fighting against a malevolent force suffocates in its concentration of whimsy.

Adam Wilson