Imagine if our physical pain and our wounds revealed themselves as light glowing from our bodies. Would we feel more connected to others in our shared pain? Would it give our lives more meaning? Those are the provocative questions Kevin Brockmeier probes in his spectacular new novel, “The Illumination.’’

Brockmeier has built his reputation on stories that creep outside of the realm of our own experiences into unfamiliar vistas, tales written in such a visceral way that you never doubt their veracity. From the world of the deceased in “A Brief History of the Dead’’ to the imaginings of a grief-stricken father in “The Truth About Celia,’’ Brockmeier’s books plumb our deepest fears with a kind of wonder.

“The Illumination’’ again relies on Brockmeier’s trademark merging of the strange with the familiar, crafting a novel that feels as if it is unpeeling a layer of life as we know it, to show us the astonishment of life as it is really being lived. In this unsettling new world, human pain throws off gorgeous blazes of light. Any upset, from a hangnail to cancer, is radiantly visible. But why? And what does it all mean?