What a weird and wild ride.

Two things (opposites sides of the same coin) crossed my mind while reading this novel-that-isn't-really-a-novel-but-oh-it-is:

How long before this book becomes obsolete and impenetrable? I'm already too young to remember milk delivery and the record player passage, while hauntingly beautiful, was lost on me. Maybe milk cartons, paper towels, and escalators will too disappear and someday none of this story will make any sense.

But on the other side of the coin...this book was written decades ago and yet so many of the actions lovingly described by Baker are still ONE HUNDRED PERCENT spot on. I kept stopping in the middle of a sentence to force my husband to read or listen to something that so accurately described my experience with this object or action that it was spooky. Billowy office trash bags! Staplers! In nearly every instance, Baker chooses EXACTLY the right verb to describe what's going on (I no longer have Mezzanine in front of me since I have lent it out, but I believe refilling the stapler involved the verb "zippering", which to a language nerd like me is just beautiful.)

I love the tiny glimpses you get into the narrator's inner life, especially as the book builds to the conclusion--which is fairly inevitable. But I also freely admit that this book isn't for everyone. Good luck!