The Verificationist

When I bought this book from amazon.com several months ago, I set it aside in my library to "save" it for a time when I needed an extra special read. From all the hoopla this book received, I expected to read a fabulous book, though certainly a strange one. Well, the strange part is true, but a fabulous book this is not.During a pancake dinner for therapists, Tom has an out-of-body experience/nervous breakdown. Told in first person narrative, The Verificationist explores what Tom's physical body is going through, as well as where his "out of body" body is experiencing. Although the book didn't do for me what I'd expected, some of the passages were a rather interesting if depressing glimpse into the mind of a middle-aged man. If focusing on neuroses and insecurities is the kind of thing you like, then Tom's recollection of the discussion his wife had while he was going to the bathroom should be of interest. I'm almost embarrassed to admit I was drawn into it myself. Another scene, wherein Tom spies two of his colleagues engaged in what he believes are the preliminary battle lines drawn before sexual congress, is also fascinating.All in all, though, this book added up to far less than the sum of its parts. Yes, the premise was unique, and while it did provide the occasional insight, more often than not the writing was self-indulgent.TTFN, Laurie Likes BooksPublisher, All About Romance

This tale has no comparison. A strange story that is amusing and hypnotic. You easily slip off the role of spectator and feel as if you are along for the ride.

This 179-page novella is in a way the stream of consciousness of Tom, a middle-aged pyschologist who, meeting with his colleagues in a lower end pancake house, tries to start a food fight when a rival colleague, a burly man with a swollen ego, puts our narrator in a bear hug upon which Tom has an out of body experience in which he does a glorious exposition on the nature of pancake houses. The real business of this absurd (I mean that as a compliment), allegorical novel is to poke fun at the human need for safety, for mother, for the womb, all embodied by the pancake house. Tom's quest for a mother in the metaphorical sense compels him to invite his colleagues at this pancake emporium every year or so where they try to mend the their bruised egos, a quest that backfires. Antrim's major conflict in the novel is the human drive for safety vs. our utter sense of helplessness in this metaphysical parody, which showcases Antrim's brilliant writing skills. Why only four stars? Because after about 100 pages, I grew a bit tired of the metaphysical explorations. Similar themes are pursued with far more intensity and efficacy in my opinion in Antrim's 20-page essay, "I Bought a Bed," published in Best American Essays 2003.

An unusual novel that promises but never fully delivers. Martin's characters and ideas keep you reading, but in the end there is no sense of resolution save for a literal release. The story isn't mundane by any means. However, the author, like the characters, seems to float around in the language and never really touches down.

Sometimes, when a book is CLEARLY schlocky, poorly written and/or unentertaining, it is easy to pan it without a second thought. With other books, however--which for the reader share only the "unentertaining" part--but which are otherwise not poorly written and on a more sophisticated level, one must step back and ask oneself: Let's wait a minute. Is it possible that this is a work of creative genius and that I simply don't "get it." That my imagination and/or intellect may be too limited to appreciate what a wonderful (provocative, intelligent, well-crafted, etc., etc.) book this actually is?Well I asked myself those kinds of questions, and while I would readily concede that my reaction may well be a function of my own intellectual limitations, particularly given all the raves this book got, I don't care--I'm sticking with my convictions. I found the book to be almost insufferable throughout. It was nearly impossible for me to trudge all the way through- though I did, page by agonizing page, waiting for it to end. I simply can't believe that everyone who reads this book could find it so wonderful, and if I'm the only one in the world who would recommend against it, so be it.

This tour de force depicts one night in the life of a debauched Fruedian psychoanalyst who caters to the problems, parameters, issues, obligations, and overt manias, mindsets, and mumblings of adolescent females in today's society. An astute observer of human nature, the waitress who attempts to serve pancakes to Antrim's narrator, has dark eyebrows and a certain delightful savoir faire which is sure to intoxicate busboys and readers alike. Though young, she engages in what I'll call "a flight of the fancy" with the narrator, who undergoes the travails of an uneasy intellect obliged to run in the rat race of the contemporary psychiatric establishment until it is released to soar above the merely ordinary and dares to "just connect!"