Never The Same Again

'The Portable Veblen' by Elizabeth Mckenzie is overdue at the library ... sorry. It was an excellent start to the year, a delight, that turned a little scary at times, because who doesn't need a bit of dramatic tension in their lives. And I love books with real people in them: Thorstein Veblen, after whom our heroine is named, was a real American economist and critic of capitalism (he doesn't appear in the story, but does get several mentions, and there are photos). Veblen and Paul are something of an odd couple, both with mildly dysfunctional families, but not in a bad way, but more than merely quirky. While Veblen is still deciding quite what to do with her life Paul has invented a device for relieving inter-cranial pressure after trauma to prevent brain damage, and interest in his device from a very powerful and wealthy woman sends events in all sorts of undesirable directions. Squirrels play quite a significant part in the story too. I can't really describe the story so that's all you're getting. The metaphors/similes were to die for:

"She was plain and mild in appearance, with hair the colour of redwood bark, and eyes speckled like September leaves." (p.2)

"Sometimes her reactions seemed to happen in slow motion, like old, calloused manatees moving through murky water." (p.14)

"He finished his bottle. The foam bubbled on his lips, tickling like root beer and first kisses." (p.70)

"This appeared to further unsettle him, which she rather enjoyed, a cool slap on the buttock of assumption." (p.179)

"She felt deflated, a balloon skin on the ground." (p.211)

"She drifted in like a stray feather." (p.295)

"She was aware that her mother had trained her to turn herself inside out, like a pocket to be inspected for pilfered change." (p.349)

The evolution of her relationship with her mother is central to the story. It has been a struggle for her to free herself; her mother constantly tries to reel her back in. This one gives you some idea of how things go:

"By now she recognised the patterns of her mother's behaviour that were triggered by any forward progress in her life. When Veblen finally made her move to Palo Alto, her mother fell into a horrible snit as Veblen finished packing that last day, throwing something at her while she zipped up one of her bags.

It was a patchwork cover for her computer, perfectly fitted, finely finished, made of scraps of Veblen's childhood dresses, just like the one her mother made for her typewriter once upon a time, an otherwise loving gesture except that her mother pitched it at her head and ran from the room in tears.

'Mom?' she called.

'What?' yelled her mother.

'I love it!' Veblen said.

'Melanie screeched, 'Go on, get out of here! Go, go, go, go, go!'" (p.130-131)  

I think I loved Veblen because she believed things so fervently, cared about everything. I loved her uncrushable idealism. And yet she still lived in the real world.

This, towards to end:

"She used to think falling in love was alchemy, that animals had weddings, that coal was a gemstone, that mountains were hollow, that trees had hidden eyes." (p.364) 

Stays safe. Be kind. Listen to the squirrels.