This is a work of fiction on par with Joyce's Ulysses in terms of complexity, style, mastery of language, and inventiveness. I am two-thirds of the way through. I do not think it is about clouds. (I bought it because I judged a book by its cover).
In my present struggle with atmospheric pressure, I had to laugh at this:
"Funny, thinks Milton. Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible."