Shortlisted for the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction 2016

I read this novel with more than a little trepidation, as the main character is named after noted socialist economist Thorstein Veblen. He plays a prominent role for a man dead nearly a century. Fortunately, while the personal politics of the author are certainly not in question, she resists the urge to make this a political novel. It's safe for those of us who are dog-tired of novels that rely heavily on beating readers over the head with "insight" into the rights and wrongs of red and blue.

There is a specific target in the novel: the medical industry. McKenzie throws around enough medical jargon that shows she's at least comfortable with concepts like neuroscience and brain chemistry. She's also comfortable with her vocabulary, like Franzen. But not as consistent. It comes and goes. She's certainly a talented writer, and I enjoyed many turns of phrase.

That's not to say there aren't extensive problems with this novel. Primarily, it's that the deceased Thorstein Veblen is the only real character. The leads, Veblen and Paul, are unusually one-dimensional. It's hard to care about them. While this novel is not a study in good versus evil (except for the aforementioned medical industry), I never got much of a sense of consistency or character. Veblen herself is not really described physically and her motivations seem more driven by her surroundings than any sense of self. She is portable. Perhaps that's the main point McKenzie is trying to make: we are a product of our environment. Hard to say. Paul is even less consistent, though his purpose in the novel is undergo transition, however magically and unconvincingly he gets from point A to point B.

I come away wondering, though, what the novel was about. At first, it seems to be a standard marriage story. Are Veblen and Paul destined to have a happy engagement and marriage? Do we root for them, or for Veblen, or for something else? There's some initial depth in Veblen's struggles. Or is it a comedy? We have two people who seem to be competing for the title of most horrible childhood. Each is strongly influenced by parents or a sibling with severe cognitive difficulties. Paul's description of his first semi-adult relationship is memorable - perhaps the most lasting and dysfunctional image of the novel. But it's all so over-the-top, like a comedy.

When situations are emphasized in the novel, you don't have to wait long for the obvious comedic (often darkly comedic) payoff. Paul has invented a medical device that efficiently punches a hole in someone's head. You know perfectly well where that's headed (pun intended). No mystery there.

Or is a story about the mysticism of squirrels that apparently teleport and communicate with various characters? Mostly, it seems like childish anthropomorphism coming from Veblen's imagination, but there is a scene that's narrated by the squirrel. We are asked to share the fantasy.

After 400 pages, I didn't feel invested. I didn't feel as if I could be a friend of either character. I didn't feel I knew enough to believe or disbelieve in their happiness, should they go ahead with the marriage. All I really felt was a general sense the novel wasn't consistent enough, funny enough or deep enough to recommend to anyone.

I can say, unequivocally, that The Portable Veblen is the strangest book I’ve ever read. But fun. Oh, so much fun! Author Elizabeth McKenzie’s mind is something to behold; her pen magical. Yet, there is substance to this romantic comedy and messages on many levels.

Veblen Amundsen-Howda is a strange, but lovable young woman who tries to do the right thing. She goes out of her way to please her mother, an over-the-top hypochondriac whose husband is the glue that holds their family together. Her biological father is institutionalized with a mental disorder and, true to Veblen’s nature, she makes every effort to bring joy to his life.

Veblen, who was named after Thorstein Veblen (1857-1929), a Norwegian-American economist, draws many of her attitudes and passions from the writer and has a framed picture of him displayed prominently in her home.

Veblen’s financé Paul Vreeland, a brilliant neurologist, has been awarded an important military contract to test brain-damaged patients. When Paul takes Veblen to meet his aging hippie parents, the visit is as bad as he dreads. Trying to keep all these elements—her family, his family and his research project—on an even keel while putting together their wedding is a challenge.

In the meantime, one of the main characters of the book, a squirrel who resides in Veblen’s attic, is her joy, but Paul’s nemesis. It’s hard to imagine, but the squirrel has a surprisingly important role is this story.

For a refreshing change, read this book. As Jeff VanderMeer of the Los Angeles Times says, “It’s wise, deep, and complicated.”

This is a charming, wonderful, deeply satisfying book -- and, in the end, a joyful, life-affirming statement about the possibility of overcoming the complicated baggage of growing up and of coming to understand, honestly, one's family, one's lover, and one's self. I think that Veblen Amundsen-Hovda, the title character, may be one of the most sympathetic and likable protagonists of any novel I've read; you almost ache for her to find her happiness. Her fiance, Paul, is a bit harder to like at first, but what McKenzie accomplishes so beautifully here is gradually bringing out each character's depths and story, and allowing them to change and grow as they themselves learn new things.

The book contains some wicked (and very on-target) satire of the pharmaceutical industry and the military-industrial complex. But I think the key to enjoying this novel fully is to view it as a fable of sorts. As with a fable, there are, unquestionably, a few natural elements and plot twists that strain credulity. But this book is fundamentally about people and the very human problems they face in trying to love one another, and on that level it has -- in view of its overall charm, quirky narration, and generally sunny outlook -- some surprisingly deep things to say.

Some novels I abandon before completion, with some I force myself to soldier on until the end (expecting a big pay-off, or at least a reader's sense of accomplishment), and others I put down for a long time before picking them back up much later to see if I have the energy to finish them off. My favorite fiction, however, is the sort of novel that is a joy to read from start to finish. The Portable Veblen is one of those unusually compelling, entertaining, and delightful novels that remind me why I enjoy fiction. Funny, insightful, honest, and impressively well-written, this is a fantastic book that I cannot recommend highly enough. Family dynamics, conspicuous consumption, pharmaceutical malfeasance, and the military-industrial complex (oh: and talking squirrels...), what's not to love?

I have a cat who is usually unimpressed by literature. In fact, I have never seen her have any interest in a book. Perhaps it was the squirrel on the cover that captivated her, or perhaps she read the reviews; but she attached this book relentlessly - I had to return the book to the library with an explanation of the shredded cover.

I was also intrigued by the book although I had to get half-way through before I understood its quirkiness. The situations and plot are far-fetched, but close enough to the possible to be sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. The author skewers the characters, the pharmaceutical industry and the military industry without mercy. Only the squirrel comes out unblemished (except for what my cat did to her)

A Hutmacher family is incredibly wealthy. Big bucks confabulation in a Y2K of electrified money trading trillions in markets that could become white panel white out hack horse feathers if anybody starts talking about J. F. Cave, Jack London, an eldritch Lovecraft, Poe on the imp of the perverse, the accursed share, religion, pathology, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, Adolf Hitler getting elbows over Martin Heidegger, and the conglomerates for which we shill.

The Portable Veblen by Elizabeth Mckenzie is a very highly recommended novel about a young couple on the brink of marriage. It is a quirky, humorous, unique novel that encompasses dysfunctional families to personal professional goals to relationships to feelings about squirrels.

Veblen Amundsen-Hovda has accepted the marriage proposal of her boyfriend Paul Vreeland, a 34-year-old neurologist. While the ring seems a little big and Paul doesn't like squirrels the way Veblen does (she talks with them) they are both determined to make this work even though they have only known each other for three months. They still need to meet each other's families.

Veblen is named for Thorstein Veblen, an economist who coined the term "conspicuous consumption," is a temp agency typist and an amateur freelance translator of Norwegian, especially the works of her namesake. Her mother is a hypochondriac and a narcissist. Her step father is a nice guy, but is an enabler and panders to her mother. Her father is institutionalized for mental illness. Veblen is a free spirit who loves typing, talks to squirrels, and tries to gauge her reactions based on what other people are saying or doing. She's fixed up a crumbling house in Palo Alto by herself and made it her own. She admires Thorstein Veblen and his beliefs.

Paul grew up with hippy parents who grew pot and had other people traipsing in and out of the house/commune all the time - not to mention the DEA watching the house. He always has felt his older brother Justine, who is mentally disabled, was favored by their parents. He is recruited by a large medical corporation with a Department of Defense contract due to his invention of a device that could potentially minimize brain trauma for those in combat situations. Paul is ambitious and driven to succeed, so he accepts the position with its promise of fame and fortune. ( (Admittedly, I wasn't a fan of Paul at the beginning of the book, but quickly began to see his point of view.)

Now this young couple who have seemingly totally opposite views on life, are trying to navigate the emotional, tense meeting-of-the-parents, as well as their own misgivings over their future. What would you do for love - of another or those in your family?

This is a wonderful, entertaining, extremely well written literary gem. It is quirky, but replete with exquisitely descriptive passages. Adding to the mix are the well-developed cast of characters and all of their incongruous idiosyncrasies. Interspersed throughout the book are these photos, that are both funny and endearing, placed to illustrate something in the text as simple as a bag of ugly clothes for donation.

Disclosure: My Kindle edition was courtesy of Penguin Publishing Group for review purposes.

If Jane Austen were alive today and living in Palo Alto, she might have conceived of a character like Elizabeth McKenzie’s Veblen Amundsen-Hovda, the lovable protagonist of McKenzie’s latest novel, 'The Portable Veblen'. Struggling to maintain an authentic self in a world permeated by inauthenticity and insidiously naturalized capitalist values, her resolve is tested with her engagement to Paul, a young doctor on the cusp of ‘making it’ with a patent on a new medical device that is co-opted by Hutmacher, a pharmaceutical and medical instrument giant. Veblen is named after the sociologist Thorstein Veblen (1857-1929; author of the classic book 'The Theory of the Leisure Class', 1899), who was a virulent and concise critic of the soul-crushing culture of twentieth-century materialism. He is the eponymous angel on Veblen’s shoulder, while the angel of her own nature is occupied by a squirrel who Veblen has long conversations with, making therapist—or divinity—of her own unconscious. Veblen is willing to sacrifice much in her life to care for others, but in the end will not give up her freedom of spirit for any degree of counterfeit security or bogus social standing. McKenzie’s writing is sheer pleasure, filled with astute reflections on the challenge of retaining one’s humanity in modern society, and filled, too, with exquisite passages communicating the marvelous to be found in the everyday. Family foibles are a dominant theme, and in 'The Portable Veblen' they are humorously yet also lovingly described. We’ll all find something of our own families there to recognize—insane social institutions, both the worst and the best things we have. A highly recommended book. The Portable Veblen, by Elizabeth McKenzie, Penguin Press, New York, 2016. Review by Allan Langdale

This book was lovely! I understand that some people may have a hard time connecting with the characters or trying to find a plot - but that's the point, they are difficult and amusing people and you have to find the joy and sorrow in each of them. You'll walk away from it loving it I promise, you just have to give it a chance and accept it at face value.

Though “The Portable Veblen” has a great title and is described as funny, I worried that it might turn out to be one of those slightly grim, ponderous novels whose humor falls flat. Still, based on the author's New Yorker background and the adorable cover art, I decided to give it a try.
“Veblen” didn't grab me right away. The protagonists – especially Paul – are difficult to warm up to quickly. For some readers, the relationships the two have with each other and their families may seem bizarre and humorous, but for others they may hit too close to home. Given time, however, the characters become more complex, and impossible to simply like or dislike. By the end, the character and plot development shines through in some brilliantly heart-warming and wickedly funny moments.
See, the great thing that McKenzie does in “Veblen” is that she sets up situations the reader can learn from. Some of the characters' most unlikable or annoying traits may reveal powerful insights to the reader. For example, I often got angry with the way Paul treated his mentally disabled brother. This was a knee-jerk reaction on my part, and eventually I began to consider what it must be like to grow up with a disabled sibling.
Overall, “Veblen” has funny and serious sides – it is not always obvious which is which – and all are worth experiencing.

I ordered this book with mixed feelings, concerned that the premise sounded contrived and wondering if Veblen would be so treacly and in-your-face quirky (I promise not to use that word again) that finishing would be a struggle. Ultimately, I selected it because of the setting, which is my neighborhood. Like Veblen, I live near San Francisquito Creek, and I know Tasso Street well. (That crumbling cottage would list for $2 million, by the way). And once I began reading, I found the writing absorbing and the pace fast, and enjoyed the repeated references to familiar sites.

Other than that, the shtick wore thin before long. Veblen is adorable and she interacts with squirrels. A lot. How charming and different is that? We get it, really we do, and the author would have been well-advised to have avoided the scene with the squirrel field trip as both over-the-top and pointless. Her attraction to her fiance, Paul the researcher, seems muddled and inexplicable. Yes, they both grew up in challenging family circumstances with loving but eccentric parents, and both encountered some mean people and bullies along the way, but there's not much substance for a relationship, even a fictitious one.

Mckenzie seemed to have much more fun with Paul and Veblen's parents -- five in all, including a stepfather -- and the best writing in the book occurs when she brings four of them together in a hospital. But, even though they spend more time on the page than you would expect in a romcom novel, none of the five manages to step away from their self-imposed caricatures.

The only "conspicuous consumer" in the book is also the villain who has no redeeming qualities other than wealth, brains, and beauty. Thus, the connection to economist Thorstein Veblen is tenous. I had not realized that he had taught at Stanford back in the early years, so I did a little research on his time on the Farm, and found out that he truly was a colorful character. (for example: https://alumni.stanford.edu/get/page/magazine/article/?article_id=42487) A book featuring him as protagonist would probably be a lot more interesting and less annoying than this winsome tale.

Quirky, offbeat, hilarious, fun romp - reminded me of Alice Hoffman. Corporate greed, dysfunctional families, sixties retro, lessons learned, and an endearing (and enduring) squirrel. I loved the photos sprinkled throughout. Not the usual run-of-the-mill fiction. Worth it!

What a deliciously quirky and original book this is. Veblen Amundsen-Hovda, named after the American writer and anti-consumerism activist, Thorstein Veblen is herself a unique and original character. Raised by a neurotic, hypochondriac mother, seldom having contact with her distant divorced father, she has developed quite a few quirks. Her mother's fascination with Thorstein Veblen (she was working on an unfinished PhD about him before Veblen was born) has transferred to Veblen herself and she has taken on board his message of anti-consumerism. She also has a fascination with all things Norwegian, has learnt Norwegian and become a translator. She lives in a ramshackle cottage that she has fixed up herself, at the top of a gully surrounded closely by nature. She dresses in hand made and op shop clothes for comfort rather than fashion. She also talks to squirrels and imagines that they talk back to her and. She seems unlikely to every settle down to married life but in her 30s she meets nerdy, straight neurologist Paul, and they immediately click and eventually become engaged.
Paul loves everything that Veblen doesn't, luxury houses and cars, smart clothes and making his way up the career ladder. He has invented a device to use in the battlefield to relieve pressure build up in the brain after head injuries that will help to reduce serious brain injury while the soldiers wait to get to hospital for surgery. He is sure this is going to be a major breakthrough for him and has embarked on a clinical trial with a greedy medical devices company that should bring him fame and fortune. But all is not smooth sailing for Paul and Veblen. They are severely handicapped by their parents and upbringings. Paul's parents were hippies who were into nudism and mind altering substances. His older brother Justin was born handicapped and Paul has spent his whole life pampering to his needs and ignored by his parents. He also hates squirrels. Will love be enough to conquer all as this odd couple navigate the minefield of love and relationships, not to mention corporate greed?
Apart from Veblen and Paul there are some great characters in this book as well as a lot of understated humour. Cloris Hutmacher, the grasping, conniving heiress to the Hutmacher medical conglomerate that funds Paul's clinical trial is cast in the role of all that is bad about greedy corporations. Veblen's mother is one of the most controlling women I have met in literature but Veblen clearly loves her despite her selfish, manipulative nature. And of course there is the squirrel, charming and bushy tailed who pops up throughout the book to give Veblen advice when needed. All in all a most delightful and engaging read!

The Portable Veblen is one delight after another--one of the most off-the-wall sex scenes I've read--but let's get to the book. First, both main characters are delightfully idiosyncratic, both have problem parents who are themselves endearing to readers--never responding as anticipated and always coming through in ways that satisfy the best hopes of fiction. Second, the plot (except in one development that struck me as too sweet a revenge) twists with exactly the right surprise. Third, I'll be copying McKenzie's sentences as examples of what's best in writers like Karen Russell, Junot Diaz, and Anthony Doerr, master craftsmen who spin figures of speech and images with a quality of gold Rumpelstiltskin couldn't match. Best of all, the point of view at the end is so exactly right, I practically wanted to pet the page--and only someone who has finished the book can properly appreciate that response! It's no wonder Jonathan Franzen chose to read with Elizabeth McKenzie at the AWP conference.

This is an off kilter never stale approach to the familiar romantic comedy. And it careens a bit in its characters; always demanding you hold on a bit tightly in your commitment to the novel. Coming close to veering off the road entirely in terms of plausibility. The main character almost seems too quirky. You think the author is taking you into Zoey Deschanel asking Siri what the weather is as she looks out in the pouring rain territory.

Yet somehow McKenzie always manages to steer as close as she can and still stay on the road. It is fun and funny. Something that is not always as close in hand with each other as you might think. But it is a ride. And if you don't find yourself engaged early on I think you might not at all. But I still stay stick it through. The madcap is is tongue in cheek and most of the humorous moments seem to hold just enough awareness to come off as witty and yet not so much as to be smug or even patronizing. Mckenzie delivers something that is simply taking a romp if you will and knows it. And has no problem with the reading being in on the joke in general while laughing along with it.

This is a most unusual and peculiar novel, albeit very bold and creative. Veblen is a quirky young girl, raised by a neurotic, demanding, hypochondriac mother. Her father is mentally imbalanced and institutionalized; she works as a temp, lives in a partially restored old cottage in Palo Alto and translates Norwegian for fun. She also talks to squirrels - and they answer. She meets Paul, a young neurologist attending Stanford University, and they fall in love and get engaged incredibly quickly. He hates that she talks to squirrels. They both have dysfunctional families, and he really wants to avoid all of them. He was raised by hippy/dippy parents with an older brother who is mentally challenged, and has sucked up all of the family's attention for all of Paul's life. There's is an unlikely love, and it soon becomes evident that it is not built on a strong foundation. She abhors commercialization and materialism; he looks forward to more prosperity, better cars and bigger homes as soon as he graduates and gets a big salary. She enters into the relationship with many unvoiced needs. Neither of them have a vision of what is normal in a relationship or a family unit.

The author's surprising use of language can be either impressively creative or just head-scratching weird. For instance, when describing a tree that a squirrel has just leapt from, she writes "Veblen wondered if squirrels were stirred when humans slowed to admire the nubby cupules, the voluptuous cotyledons, and the lustrous seed coat covering the pericarp, which indicated a peppery flavor. She had tried it." What the heck are "nubby cupules"?

While Veblen and Paul try to establish the boundaries of their relationship, Paul is starting his career at the VA Hospital, running trials on a skull drill that he has developed for use by the military in the battlefield to alleviate pressure that can result in brain damage. He runs up against the games that are played by the huge pharmaceutical/medical supplies company that is sponsoring his research. In a perfect storm, he faces relationship drama, career drama and family drama simultaneously and everything he knows is at risk.

These quirky characters and settings veer from the ridiculous to the lovable, sometimes in just one chapter, but by the end I was rooting for Veblen and Paul to be together and to achieve some semblance of normalcy within their families. This author offers a fresh perspective and a witty approach, and I look forward to reading more from her.

Will they, won’t they marry? This is the slender thread upon which 400-plus pages hangs. They have their differences, Veblen and Paul, of course they do. She who talks to squirrels and feels sorry for the last bean on the plate, he a rising star in the field of neurology and a suspected ‘bourgeois materialist’. But they love each other. Don’t they?

30-year old Veblen is named after Thorstein Veblen, an early 20th century American socio-economist famed for the phrase “conspicuous consumption”. He too was an oddball. And much like the squirrels Veblen has an affinity with, her namesake was also considered a pest - one of several pesky individuals to be encountered in this book.

Elizabeth McKenzie is an interesting writer with many a beguiling turn of phrase yet I found it difficult to fully engage with these people. I don’t have a problem with quirky. I don’t even have a problem with a lead character who talks to squirrels. But there seemed to me to be a kind of floaty irrelevance to the whole thing. Nevertheless, the pages flew by and the underlying themes of materialism, intrusiveness, mental health and family dynamics serve to make this story add up to more than it might seem on the surface.

Elizabeth McKenzie employs a whimsical tone in telling the tale of her characters, Dr. Paul Vreeland and his fiancé Veblen Amundsen-Hovda, and their respective eccentric families, as the couple navigate through a society at odds with itself and toward joining together in a harmonious relationship. Paul, a neuroscientist and inventor of a device for rapidly treating battlefield head injuries, a wannabe conspicuous consumer, and advocate of ethical behavior, and Veblen, a young woman relishing limited consumption, reveling in nature, conversant with a squirrel, a self-therapeutical typist, a nascent Norwegian translator, and devotee of Thorstein Veblen, exemplify this bifurcated society.

Veblen lives in small cottage, one of the last, in Palo Alto, that she has lovingly converted from a derelict into a cosy home for herself. She has fallen for Paul, who has moved in with her. Immediately, he becomes obsessed with capturing a pesky rodent prowling in the attic of the cosy abode, while Veblen contemplates their coming marriage and suitability for each other.

Paul, who could have had a comfortable berth at a major university, is in pursuit of the American dream consisting of personal wealth, recognition and its accompanying fame. His hopes rest on a unique, useful, and life-saving device, called the Pneumatic Turbo Skull Punch, a device most anybody can use on a battlefield to immediately relieve pressure on the brain due to head injury. It catches the eye of the Department of Defense and the large pharma company Hutmacher, spearheaded by the hard driving Clovis Hutmacher, daughter of the founder. They set him up at a VA hospital in Menlo Park, where everything goes awry, Clovis takes advantage of him, veterans and their families are served up false hope, and author McKenzie gets to whack away at society as a giant marketing scheme. The system that Paul’s father has warned him about torments him and puts his ethical values to a severe test.

As all this transpires, Veblen has to come to terms with her love of Paul, the entire concept of marriage, which she views at times through a lens ground to the antipodal views of Adolf Guggenhbuhl-Craig in his book Marriage: Dead or Alive: Psychological Reflections on an Archetypal Institution Revised Edition (Training of Jungian Analysts) (think a Strindberg play, like The Father), as well as her desire for a simple life lived close to the earth, more in keeping with her idol, of whom she keeps a portrait in her cottage, Thorstein Veblen. Naturally, these conflicts plague her with anxiety that she often works out, as she has in the past, with constant typing on an old portable, as well as with exchanges with the squirrel in the attic, the very one Paul’s intent upon disposing of. Oddly, none of this is nearly as weird as it sounds.

As if the above isn’t sufficient for many insightful and comic moments, Paul and Veblen, since they are planning a wedding, bring their respective families into the mix. On Paul’s side, while his parents seem nearly normal, his brother Justin suffers from mental issues, the cause of which readers learn later in the book, that have made him the focus of the family’s attention, burdening Paul with strong feelings of resentment. Veblen’s family proves stranger by far. Her mother Melanie is a hypochondriac of the highest order, with more disorders, deficiencies, and illnesses than comfortably contained in a physician's handbook. Topping this, she finds fault with everybody and every situation. Fortunately for her, her second husband knows how and loves to assuage her every mood, while also usually steering her in the right direction with patient prodding. Then there is her biological father living in a home for those unable to care for themselves, who proves to be not what one would expect when his true nature reveals itself, but whose condition tortures Veblen as she often wonders if she might be a bit crazy.

You’ll find The Portable Veblen: A Novel a novel unlike any other you’ve read, a work in a classification all its own. While the subjects romped through are serious and sometimes saddening (like war and the VA situation), the novel is always beguiling and funny, often to the point where you might drop the book you’re laughing so hard. And lest you think all will end woefully, McKenzie brings the whole affair to a pleasing and satisfying end, tying up future events in some very unusual and creative epilogues that even those not fans of summations will smile through. And if you need an overarching theme to anchor yourself with, it would be this: what is the best way to lead your life? Highly recommended.

Despite the title, this is not about Thorstein Veblen, the economist and sociologist who coined the term “conspicuous consumption.”

This novel is about a very different Veblen…the curiously named Veblen Amundsen-Howda, a thirty year old free spirit living her life in Palo Alto. She’s got a fiancé named Paul and together they’ve got enough dysfunctional family to effectively derail any possibility of a functional, healthy relationship. She’s also got a squirrel confidante who is a voice of reason among the human family-caused madness.

This is a funny book with sharp, witty dialog. There are laugh out loud episodes and soft giggle to oneself moments.

Enjoyable and easy to identify with. Now....if I could only find a squirrel....

What book are the reviewers on the back cover discussing? They used the words hilarious and funny which do not apply to this book. Possibly the oddest comment on the back of the cover is "Family dysfunction, on the other hand, is always funny". Say WHAT?

All the characters have major issues, not a single one is likeable. Squirrels factor largely in the main character's insanity. As for a storyline, even that seems insane. Gathering up victims with brain injuries, to test a device that will not aid them makes no sense. Why would major funding suddenly result from sleeping with a company official once? Females in her position have no need to reward for sex.

Veblen's arm biting in times of stress and Paul's treatment of his impaired brother don't seem to set off alarms about the other. Just more not funny things, tossed into the story. Throw in some fear from corporate crime, a strangulation attempt, attempted vehicular homicide and gee, an 8 year old who shoots a craniotomy device at his mothers skull and gets to view a 3 inch circle of bone, tissue and hair fall out. Clearly from the later conversations she has been brain damaged by this device. And the story just sailed blithely forward.

No, funny and hilarious do not come into this book at all! What an utter waste of time.

Despite the title, this is not about Thorstein Veblen, the economist and sociologist who coined the term “conspicuous consumption.”

This novel is about a very different Veblen…the curiously named Veblen Amundsen-Howda, a thirty year old free spirit living her life in Palo Alto. She’s got a fiancé named Paul and together they’ve got enough dysfunctional family to effectively derail any possibility of a functional, healthy relationship. She’s also got a squirrel confidante who is a voice of reason among the human family-caused madness.

This is a funny book with sharp, witty dialog. There are laugh out loud episodes and soft giggle to oneself moments.

Enjoyable and easy to identify with. Now....if I could only find a squirrel....

What book are the reviewers on the back cover discussing? They used the words hilarious and funny which do not apply to this book. Possibly the oddest comment on the back of the cover is "Family dysfunction, on the other hand, is always funny". Say WHAT?

All the characters have major issues, not a single one is likeable. Squirrels factor largely in the main character's insanity. As for a storyline, even that seems insane. Gathering up victims with brain injuries, to test a device that will not aid them makes no sense. Why would major funding suddenly result from sleeping with a company official once? Females in her position have no need to reward for sex.

Veblen's arm biting in times of stress and Paul's treatment of his impaired brother don't seem to set off alarms about the other. Just more not funny things, tossed into the story. Throw in some fear from corporate crime, a strangulation attempt, attempted vehicular homicide and gee, an 8 year old who shoots a craniotomy device at his mothers skull and gets to view a 3 inch circle of bone, tissue and hair fall out. Clearly from the later conversations she has been brain damaged by this device. And the story just sailed blithely forward.

No, funny and hilarious do not come into this book at all! What an utter waste of time.

This book was totally weird! The main character has a bizarre obsession with squirrels. I truly considered not finishing the book, which I never do, and recommended to my sister to just cut her losses! I HATED it!!!!!!!

Quirky. That was the term used by a fellow reader, and it fits to a tee. Quirky, starting with the incomprehensible title (Veblen is the first name of the heroine, but I have no idea what makes her portable*). Quirky, from the picture of a cute squirrel on the cover to the appendix listing 65 names for the animal in different languages (I especially like the Yiddish: Ww'ww'rq -- really?). Quirky, in the author's habit of throwing in a black-and-white photo now and then, of only tangential relevance. And quirky in McKenzie's style, as heralded by this opening paragraph: "Huddled together on the last block of Tasso Street, in a California town known as Palo Alto, is a pair of humble bungalows, each one aplot in lilies. And in one lived a woman in the slim green spring of her life, and her name was Veblen Amundsen-Hovda."

Quirky. But not quite quirky enough to sustain interest through style alone. The first chapter is called "End the Attachment!" As this begins, more or less, with Veblen getting engaged to a young physician named Paul in medical research, we wonder if this is a mistake and she will return the ring the next morning. She doesn't, but the question still lingers as we see more of their potential incompatibilities, as we learn more about Paul and his questionable relationship to the predatory Big Pharma heiress who is funding his research, and as Veblen takes him to meet her mother, a hypochondriac from hell. There is something of a theme going about the post-hippie generation -- values embraced by Veblen but rejected by Paul -- but I didn't find it enough to sustain my interest. I am sure that many readers will find this charming, but I prefer books with more bite.

*I may have a clue, actually. See the first comment.

I ended up enjoying the quirkiness of Elizabeth McKenzie’s novel titled, The Portable Veblen. Readers who enjoy the unconventional are those most likely to enjoy this novel. What might that mean? Well, if you consider talking to squirrels as unconventional, when that happens in the novel, you will not be surprised. There’s a large cast of oddball characters and interesting relationships. McKenzie’s prose is finely written, and her dialogue is always realistic. There’s an exploration of modern striving and consumption in this novel that adds pleasure for those readers who understand Veblen’s writing.

Rating: Four-star (I like it)

This was a surprising find on the library shelf for me... yes, gasp, I checked it out of the library instead of purchasing here. Please don't let that deter you. I tend to judge a book by its cover and I just couldn't resist the adorable squirrel on the front.
Although a work of fiction, it is full of facts about authors and other people of note that are indeed true. I enjoyed the twists and turns of a couple heading towards the altar. I am heading towards my own wedding date, and while my story is nowhere near this dramatic, it is refreshing to read a book that doesn't paint the time leading up to a wedding as a pure fairy tale... although Veblen does appear to live in a fantasy world at times.

THE PORTABLE VEBLEN is a funny and original novel that conveys themes of family dysfunction and other modern societal problems in a unique and entertaining manner. Elizabeth Mckenzie has the writing talent to pull off the original risks in style she takes in the writing of her novel that ends up being surprisingly entertaining and very readable. Not a book for those who like under very traditional literature but rewarding for those willing to try something a bit off beat.

“The Portable Veblen” is an endearingly quirky novel that explores family relationships, cultural economics, Big Medicine, military procurement, and human–squirrel relationships in a pell-mell rush of flashbacks and introspection that draw the reader in from the first pages. I can’t guarantee that this book is like nothing else you’ve ever read, but I wouldn’t bet against it – it was certainly quite different from anything I can remember having read.

Veblen Amundsen-Hova, a young woman on the cusp of her 30s, talks to the squirrels – mostly one particular squirrel – living in the vicinity of her little rented cottage at the end of a tiny street in Palo Alto, not far from Stanford University. She meets Paul Vreeland, a neurologist at Stanford University Hospital, in her capacity as a temp transcriptionist at the hospital. They fall in love, plan to marry – and run into more than the usual number of complications, from her paranoid hypochondriac mother and absent, mentally-ill birth father, to Paul’s over-the-hill hippie parents and brain-damaged older brother, with a little bit of greedy corporate-medicine shenanigans thrown into the mix.

I’ll admit that part of the reason that I selected this book to read was that it is set in Palo Alto, CA; not far from where I live, and an area with which I am fairly familiar. I get a kick out of reading books that are set in recognizable locations that are well-known to me, and author Elizabeth Mackenzie guides the reader from Palo Alto to Paso Robles to the back woods of Lake County and far Northern California with deftly crafted prose and a whimsical sense of humor which informs even some fairly dark and tense sections of the story. “The Portable Veblen” is a quirky, complex tale of endurance, acceptance, and hope which is a breath of fresh air blowing away the cobwebs of conformity that can form from over-exposure to conventional novels, the kind of change that even the most experienced reader needs to seek out from time to time.

I hate using buzzwords in reviews but the bottom line is that they fit the bill so here they are: quirky; offbeat; original satirical.

Now that that's out of the way, there are also great characters, a lot of family dysfunction, a few weird coping skills, some lovely writing, and quite a few moments of insight.

Worth the read.

The Portable Veblen is big on charm and is basically an updated Jane Austen tale placed in the Silicon Valley. Two very different people fall in love. Will that love endure personality differences, dysfunctional families and the lure of crazy cash? The dialogue-filled writing is crisp and polished. The tone is upbeat. The theme is about the resilience and longing of the human heart. Thrown into the mix are some ideas from Thorsten Veblen, a turn of the 20th century cad, raconteur, and sociology professor who taught at Stanford until he got into hot water and was forced to resign. I enjoyed the unique tour of the Silicon Valley, a region far more noted for terse engineers than quirky loquacious free spirits, provided by this book. If you like big-hearted, light romances laced with some intellectual ideas on how capitalism influences our lives, you'll find The Portable Veblen an enjoyable, quick and amusing read.

From the moment when Paul presents Veblen with her diamond engagement ring in the streets of old Palo Alto -- spied on by a squirrel -- it's clear that this going to be anything but a conventional novel. For starters, the ring itself, a gorgeous diamond, isn't really Veblen's kind of thing. But then, does Paul really understand Veblen? She's the epitome of her namesake, shunning conspicuous consumption, while he has embraced everything that the new Palo Alto stands for, licensing his medical device to a rapacious medical technology company instead of staying to work at Stanford, and hunting for a new home in the luxury enclave that Silicon Valley has become, while Veblen would be content to stay in her rehabbed tiny cottage. And then there's the fact that virtually the first thing Paul does the morning after they get engaged is to dash out and buy a trap to capture the squirrels who infest (his description) Veblen's attic. Veblen, who talked to squirrels in her childhood and is well on the way to befriending her fellow household resident, bushy tail and all, is appalled. Will this couple ever make it to the altar? And if so where, and under what circumstances?

It's hard to imagine a wackier and more entertaining novel about dysfunctional families and relationships. And yet at the same time, Elizabeth Mackenzie gives the reader plenty to ponder, along with the absurdity of Veblen forming a tighter bond with a squirrel than with her fiancé. It's hard to come away from this book and not start thinking about what has happened in the last quarter century or so in Silicon Valley, and Mackenzie emphasizes the stark contrast at every turn.

Still, how much you'll enjoy this will hinge on your own tolerance for whimsy and eccentricity. Veblen is quite possibly the single most distinctive character I've encountered in fiction in eons, and her mother is a grotesque of sorts; it's to Mackenzie's great credit that neither ever risks becoming a caricature. Instead, I ended up feeling empathy for Veblen, and a kind of exasperated understanding of Melanie, her mother. There's no normal here, for anyone. Paul's family has its own foibles, to put it mildly (former nudists, they make their living from growing pot and other stuff off the grid, and caring for their other, brain-damaged son whom Paul deeply resents) and yet while Paul craves that normal, Veblen embraces her inner eccentric, translating Norwegian in her spare time for fun and relieving stress by typing, on an invisible keyboard if necessary. Against this nutty backdrop, the social critique is necessarily muted.

This novel is the epitome of quirky. If you love squirrels, or eccentricity is your thing, you'll adore it. If not... well, who knows? The writing is excellent and it's unlike anything else you'll encounter this year. And in a world full of "me, too" books, that's something to savor. For my part, I had fun with it, but the whimsy level was dialed a little too high and the relentless fantastical situations ended up feeling up overwhelming. Not one that I'll shove on all my friends, demanding that they read it, but it's special in its own "squirrelous" (yes, that's a word here) way.

When Veblen, who talks to squirrels, falls for Paul, who is a vivisectionist, you gotta think, this ain't gonna work. The only thing they seem to have in common are families who are certifiably strange, in their own ways. Intrusive families. Loving families? Sometimes. Horrible families? Sometimes.

This novel is funny and touching and entertaining, and more than adequately quirky. I didn't much care for Paul, but people who cut up live animals for a living aren't likely to be on my BFF list, even if their reasons are supposedly noble.

The book, even the e-book, contains some wonderful photos that add to the atmosphere of the story. There were words new to me, that I had to look up. This is a fun, light read, and if you think your family is a bubble off plane, will make you feel positively mainstream.

And I really like squirrels with attitude.

I can not believe how strange this book was. Squirrely is the one word that sums it up in a nutshell (pun intended)! This book club selection found 13 out of 14 readers in agreement regarding their disappointment.

I really enjoyed listening to the audiobook. The reader made the characters come alive in all their uniqueness. The story is not a rehashing of all- too-common plots. Behind the "quirkyness" there is a lot of insight into family dynamics, as well as informative tidbits about a range of other topics, from neurology to economic theories to the behavior of squirrels. A really fun read.

Even though the author could not have intended it when she wrote the book, I can't help but imagine that it's an allegory for the Democratic primaries. It's a love story between Paul -- who clearly would be a Clinton supporter -- and Veblen -- who I can't imagine is not Feeling The Bern about now. Right from the first chapter, Paul and Veblen get engaged and they hear a squirrel in the attic. Veblen loves the sounds of animals, but Paul is afraid it will chew through the wires, so he gets a no-kill trap, which Veblen proceeds to sabotage. Meanwhile, Paul has invented a medical device that could save the lives of soldiers in combat theaters, and contracts with a pharmaceutical company and the Department of Defense to develop it, but Veblen doesn’t trust the military or big pharma. And then, after I started seeing the connections everywhere, Veblen insults Hillary and starts quoting Robert Reich (who endorsed Sanders)! From the start, it is simply unclear if the two are compatible, although we like them and are rooting for them both from the start. I hope they find a way to work it out before the Convention in Philadelphia!

Meanwhile, what I particularly loved about the book is that there are pictures! (Photographs, actually), which are central to the plot. In one scene, for example, Veblen is playing with the squirrel trap, and Paul catches her and tries to get her to admit what she did -- but the words don’t tell you what happened -- it’s all in the picture.

Some of it was silly: overheard misunderstandings not even worthy of Three’s Company; a squirrel who might very well be the third most important character; a villain worthy of a comic book; parents who were as much caricatures nad characters. But the central relationship between Paul and Veblen, and their interactions with their families, kept me interested and caring throughout.

Four our of Five Squirrel ex Machinae.

Max Lerner was one of the best social scientists of the 20th century and openly admitted his indebtedness to Veblen as a seminal thinker and shows his fondness in this extraordinary and astute collection of Veblen's wide ranging thoughts and insights in many areas other than mere cook book economics. This is a volume for connoisseurs not dummies. If you're looking for supply and demand graphs they're not here; if you're interested in why there are such graphs and whether they are relevant--then read on. G. Christiansen

Veblen has just become engaged to Paul, a doctor who's just invented a device to help with brain trauma. The couple could not be more mismatched. Veblen is a free spirit who talks to squirrels and idolizes Thorstein Veblen, a kind of Norwegian Henry Thoureau. Paul, though raised by hippie parents, is conservative and ambitious--and he hates squirrels. Will their love overcome these differences is the question the book endeavors to answer.

I usually like books with quirky characters and original premises, but this one didn't work for me. While I think McKenzie is a good writer, I didn't find any of the characters likeable--even Veblen who we are supposed to adore. Veblen and most of the other characters in the book were just weird. In fact, the whole book was weird, especially the whole squirrel thing. And I really don't get the addition of the pictures. They were just boring pictures and added nothing at all to the story. I'm sorry to say this book never came together for me.

This was very strange, but I quite enjoyed it.

Veblen loves squirrels. She talks to them, and they talk back to her! Her parents are flawed, and she was the one who held things together, for as long as possible. Paul, her fiancé, is as weird as Veblen.

An interesting read, but perhaps a bit too much weirdness for me.

This very modern novel shows its author's wide frame of reference and light-heartedness in equal proportion.
The characters are likable and interesting, the writing smart, and the amusing story line full of little twists and turns.