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A review by stewreads
Room Temperature by Nicholson Baker
3.0
A man rocks his newborn to sleep for 20 minutes, and we read his every thought in that span of time. In theory, this is a great opportunity for the usual Baker-isms - the author's rambling, overlong digressions on the minutiae of modern life that have made me love his work so far. However, this one just didn't do it for me.
It's frustrating because I can see exactly what Baker is going for here: a sweet book on the tedium and adventure of new fatherhood and family, peppered with witty digressions and lots of dancing-around-the-point-but-that-dance-becomes-the-point. And I do think it is a very sweet book, a very personal experiment - but I quickly found myself losing interest in these five-page paragraphs about nose picking and peanut butter. The Mezzanine and Vox are two of the funniest novels I've ever read, but Room Temperature lacks the same oomph, although it makes complete sense as the book that came between them.
Still, it's onward with Baker. He hasn't dropped in my estimation at all; I just wish I could have connected with this one a bit more.
It's frustrating because I can see exactly what Baker is going for here: a sweet book on the tedium and adventure of new fatherhood and family, peppered with witty digressions and lots of dancing-around-the-point-but-that-dance-becomes-the-point. And I do think it is a very sweet book, a very personal experiment - but I quickly found myself losing interest in these five-page paragraphs about nose picking and peanut butter. The Mezzanine and Vox are two of the funniest novels I've ever read, but Room Temperature lacks the same oomph, although it makes complete sense as the book that came between them.
Still, it's onward with Baker. He hasn't dropped in my estimation at all; I just wish I could have connected with this one a bit more.