The Miracle (Of Bono’s Nose)—By Kelly And PJ

Sure, this microscopic attention to physical detail is a bit over the top, but we are both visually-oriented people with artistic backgrounds. We’re not musicians, obsessive collectors, or set list track-keepers. We can only play to our strengths. We love U2’s music, and we love the men who make it. The Miracle (Of *Insert Physical Asset Here*) is our attempt to explain the band’s enduring appeal to those who might question how four smallish, now-oldish individuals have the power to inspire screaming. The men don’t know, but the [middle-aged women] understand.

The Miracle (Of Bono’s Nose)

PJ DeGenaro and Kelly Eddington

Two Thesis Statements and a Conversation

Kelly: Certain life events are so pivotal that a person remembers them vividly for the rest of their days: the birth of a child, a wedding, a longed-for reunion. One of my favorite pivotal life events was the moment I realized that Bono has a big nose.

I was 19 years old, and in my defense, the human brain does not fully develop until age 25. My own nose is remarkably unremarkable. Noses never made much of a difference to me unless they were some kind of Cyrano situation. The year was 1988, and Joshua Tree Bono was a lot to take in.

These were his distinguishing characteristics, in order of importance to me: alarmingly blue eyes, Natalie Merchant caliber hair, cavernous mouth, pale skin that inspired me to stay out of the sun, neck with intriguing vein, jawline that produced in me an irrational girl-rage, items such as hats and earrings that guys in my cohort couldn’t pull off—and that was just his general head-and-face area. His nose didn’t even crack the top five. The foreshortening that often happens to Bono’s nose in concert situations, when we’re looking at him from below, or in photos and videos where his chin is raised (often), made me assume that he had a standard-issue, Irish dude nose.

So this shadowy promo photo from Rattle And Hum, where his chin is down and his eyes are up, and most of his other distracting features are downplayed, was a revelation to me. “Bono has a big nose,” I thought, “And it’s only making him sexier.”

PJ: We fall in love with strangers whose faces
radiate a familiar power that reminds us
of something lost before we had it.
—Marge Piercy

Amongst the privileges of Regular White America is the freedom to say things like, “Oh yah, I’m a mutt! I’m Heinz-57-Varieties! I’m German, Danish, English, French, and Scottish, and I have one great-great-grandfather, Olaf the Stout, from the Faroe Islands! What about you?”

“Oh, you know,” I murmur, gesturing vaguely toward a pile of rubble in Ukraine. Because sometimes you just don’t want to get into that whole ‘being Jewish’ thing.

What does this have to do with Bono’s nose? Ask the man himself, because in discussing his prominent proboscis, he has claimed that his mother’s maiden name, Rankin, is possibly Jewish.* Which it possibly is! But my own maiden name—swear to God, for real—is Evans, and that doesn’t make me a brilliant Welsh-Irish guitarist with exquisite bone structure. Names get changed, people move around, stuff happens. All kinds of people have big noses. (And yet: gabba gabba hey, Bono. Wink.)

I have reason to believe that we all—or many of us, anyway—have internal templates for what we find compelling in other people’s faces. My most intense passions have been for men with big, pointy noses. In fact, I married one. He does not read this website.

Kelly: My husband does not read this website, either. His nose is what you might get if Bono and Edge had a baby. So back to my late-80s big nose revelation. I was just starting to appreciate it when Bono began wearing sunglasses that obscured at least a third of it, including an important dip. His nose seemed to explode from his glasses. His current round ones are more spare, and you can see that dip now. Also, the rare occasions when he goes without them are a treat for nose enthusiasts.

PJ: OMG, we’re “nose enthusiasts.”

Kelly: We’re writing an article about a 60 year-old man’s nose. Heck, I paint all four band members on a regular basis, and this is what I’ve learned. Here are basic profiles of all four of them (apologies for making Edge look sad).

My first year of Achtoon-making increased my understanding of their noses, Look at the differences in...I’m gonna call it the Nose Angle.

Bono’s Nose Angle is smaller than average. I soon began describing its shape as futuristic and aerodynamic. 

PJ: Yes, like an uncomfortably un-woke Art Deco hood ornament** on a 1927 Pontiac, seen below:

Kelly: You blew my mind when you showed that to me a few years ago. (People, we have been discussing Bono’s nose for years.) So that angle, along with the similar slope of Bono’s forehead, makes him appear to be in constant motion. He may be experiencing wind machine agony below, but Bono’s nose was living its best life in the “Elevation” video.

PJ: When Bono was very young, he had a mischievous, elfin look. A face like a little Valentine heart. Everything about it was delicate and pert—except for the nose. The nose has always announced itself. It enters a room a few seconds before the rest of him does.

Kelly: Photographers like to capture him in profile while the rest of the band face front or in other directions. He just looks more Bono-y in profile.

PJ: His nose is hard to draw. You sort of want to make it “hook,” but it doesn’t really. It’s long and has a slight arch, but it’s also rather fine. It’s by no means the monstrous beak that caricaturists stick on him.

Kelly: When I first started to draw him as a cartoon character, I always began with his nose. It anchors the rest of his face.

PJ: This is interesting (I think): When people are aroused, their nostrils flare. They may look like they’re snarling. Bono looks like this all the damn time. 

Kelly: This. This is why we’re friends. 

PJ: It isn’t the nose alone, but those deep lines on either side that sort of cut into his cheeks but don’t quite make it all the way down to his mouth. They were there even when he was very young.

Kelly: Below are some nose landmarks—nosemarks?—that I think you’ve got to keep in mind when you’re drawing Bono’s nose. (By “crucial angle” I mean the slant at the top of the nostril.)

Kelly: The Beloved Dot™ at the tip of his nose on the left side was either a mole or a freckle. When was the last time we saw it? It used to be in every unretouched photo you’d see of him.

Kelly: It’s either faded or was removed sometime during the late 90s to early 00s.

PJ: He might have deleted the dot!

Kelly: But if you are drawing a young Bono, it’s a nice little accent to pop onto the tip of his nose.

PJ: Thanks for reminding me I need to see a dermatologist one of these days.

Kelly: I’m just glad someone is looking after his moles and freckles. But back to the nose!

PJ: The nose is the reason he makes such a convincing devil. Well, the nose in combination with the chin and the big, wide smile.

Kelly: And you were completely correct when you suggested to me that he resembles a fox more than any other animal. 

PJ: Actually it was my friend Steve who proclaimed Bono’s features “vulpine.” I had to google it. These little fox-toons you drew shouldn’t be hot, right? Of course not.

Kelly: Would Bono’s voice be different if he had an ordinary nose?

PJ: Interesting! People used to make a big deal out of Barbra Streisand’s nose, and she said she would never get it “fixed” because she was afraid it would affect her voice. Is a nose a resonant chamber? (Sidebar: Trent Reznor has a big nose and I think you can hear it in his voice.)

Kelly: The internet is inconclusive. Nose size might make a difference, but apparently not as much if you are a skilled singer. 

PJ: Barbra Streisand leads me back, in a circuitous way, to my original thesis statement. I wonder if people who think Bono is smug or obnoxious are really just incapable of dealing with his nose. 

Kelly: Heh! 

PJ: He’s so polarizing. You either see his face and melt, or you’re like “Who does that little jerk think he is?” It’s bizarre. And sometimes if you engage these people—if they’re not actually scary—they kind of realize they don’t even know why they don’t like him.

Kelly: One hundred percent. When people hate him it’s like an allergic reaction.

PJ: They see his face and they assume a certain kind of acquisitiveness. A hunger. It doesn’t matter that he’s out there spending his own money on ventilators and PPE; they’re convinced he’s shoving billions of Euros under his mattress. “Yon Cassius has a lean and hungry look.” That’s Shakespeare. I googled.

Kelly: I’m so glad I have you, an actual poet, sharing your poetic nose insights on this website with me. This is me dealing with Bono’s nose: I can paint it, but to talk about it…?

PJ: There’s a picture out there somewhere of Bono interacting with a woman in the crowd during an Elevation show, and he looks for all the world as if he’s going to inhale her.

Kelly: Inhaler! The name of his son’s band--his son who does not have The Nose.

PJ: The Nose has gone to the Other Son.

Kelly: Facts.

PJ: But Bono looks at everyone that way sometimes. It’s incredibly seductive and I can’t imagine how his friends deal with it. I don’t think it would be so intense if he had some little button nose.

Kelly: Also facts. 

PJ: I was in the MacPhisto zone a couple of times on the E+I tour—once on the rail, the other times a mere one person back. The way Bono looks when he’s catching his breath between songs is something I still think about in quiet moments. I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I had never been quite so close to the smaller stage before, and it was CRAZY. This person you listen to and see in photos and videos is just right there? Surreal. He’s just standing there, literally looking down his nose at you. It’s…something.

Are we nuts?

Kelly: Wow, Peej, you have tapped into some Big Nose Energy! And did you know that as a person ages, their nose continues to grow? Just imagine the implications for Bono’s nose. We may have to write about it again.

Yes, we are nuts.

*Actual footnote: Assayas, Michka, Bono on Bono, 2005, chapter 2, I don’t remember how to do footnotes. Whatever! —PJ

**Actual other footnote: What I initially took to be an Art Deco fancy lady turned out to be some automotive exec’s concept of a Native American. Apologies. —PJ