The Portable Veblen, shortlisted for the Bailey’s Women’s Prize for Fiction, is a whimsical comedy of errors about a courtship amidst dysfunctional families. Veblen Amundsen-Hovda, our protagonist, is described as an “independent behaviourist, experienced cheerer-upper, and freelance self”.

She is portrayed as an eccentric, perpetually spaced-out girl who is prone to getting distracted by squirrels, hummingbirds and other such creatures in her vicinity. She also volunteers as a Norwegian translator for the “Norwegian Diaspora Project” in Oslo, secretly pops antidepressants on a regular basis, makes her own clothes and is friends with squirrels — to cut to the chase, hers is the sort of offbeat character one would find essayed by Zooey Deschanel in a movie. She is named after Thorstein Veblen, an early 20th century economist and social critic who coined the term “conspicuous consumption”. The narrative is interspersed with quotations of his and snippets from his life story.

The novel begins with Veblen having been betrothed to Paul who, at least on the surface, couldn’t be more different from her. He is a strait-laced neurologist who is “tall and solid of build, branded head to toe in a forge-gray Patagonia jacket, indigo cords from J. Crew, and brown leather Vans.” While Veblen is happy in her quaint little cottage in Palo Alto, and aspires to a rustic life in the outdoors, Paul cannot wait to scale the proverbial social ladder on the crutches of the emblems of an elite lifestyle, such as a spacious house and a boat bought with the patent deal of his newly invented tool — these emblems being the very same tokens of consumerism which both Thorstein Veblen and our protagonist abhor. Paul’s pragmatic, analytical perception of the world is at complete odds with Veblen’s more humanitarian one, who views the ‘American Dream’ and consumerism as real evils.

Despite offering witty insight into an array of topics, the many neuroses of Elizabeth McKenzie’s squirrel-obsessed protagonist wear her prose down

Paul is the proud inventor of a “Pneumatic TURBO Skull Punch”, a tool which serves as a sort of hole-punch to be used during craniotomies to prevent traumatic brain injuries. His invention has been picked up by Hutmacher Pharmaceuticals, the epitome of an evil corporation, which plans on aggressively marketing his product to the military. In this vein, we are introduced to the flip side of corporate marketing and the ludicrous product plugs and advertisements which such corporations come up with. Paul would have made a better lead protagonist, as his narrative arc, consisting of the inner workings of conglomerates and outrageous research trials, is a lot more interesting than Veblen’s. Paul belatedly realises the unethical business practices of Hutmacher, resulting in some heroics on his part in the climax.

Most of Veblen and Paul’s quirks can be traced back to their unconventional upbringing. Veblen’s mother is an overbearing, possessive hypochondriac whose main goal in life is diagnosing various physical and mental conditions supposedly present in herself and Veblen. She is also a highly insecure individual, prone to throwing fits and faking illnesses whenever she feels she is no longer the centre of Veblen’s attention. Undoubtedly, she is the funniest and best-sketched character in the book.

Veblen’s father, Rudgear, is a patient living in a psychiatric ward. Despite having such unhinged parental figures, she implicitly seeks their approval and panders to their whims. It is implied that Veblen’s aberrations — her refusal to work a conventional job, her bohemian lifestyle, her habit of living in her head and talking to squirrels — are coping mechanisms that stem from a need to break free of the childhood she spent babysitting her mother and tending to her delusional illnesses. Similarly, Paul’s yearnings for fancy dinners, a luxe house and a lavish lifestyle are latent, almost Freudian reactions to his hippie upbringing. He spent his childhood constantly worrying about Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) agents and their infrared sweeps due to the presence of a “fruitful marijuana patch” his parents had cultivated in the house. Paul’s brother, Justin, is intellectually disabled, which means that Paul’s childhood was mostly spent being ignored, while in his eyes, Justin assigned their parents the roles of life-long caretakers to an invalid. Paul seems overly disgruntled by this, showing no compassion for his condition, which seems at odds with his generally objective mindset.

McKenzie infuses the story with anti-capitalist declarations, monologues on marketing propaganda, mockery of medical marketing and referencing works of noted neurologists, philosophers and psychologists such as Oliver Sacks and Jung. What transpires is a narrative packed with ideas to the point of frenzy. She attempts to juggle way too many themes and ends up doing justice only to a few. The use of pretentious syntax also mars the narrative with verbosity. The narration is replete with sentences like “It’s a Rorschach of your projections, Paul. An id intrusion”, and “you impute it with awesomeness because you acquired it and you now believe it’s the crystallisation of your desires.” McKenzie seems to be inspired by David Foster Wallace’s brand of writing, not only by trying to mimic his distinctive esoteric diction — albeit without his razor-sharp wit and acuity — but also by channelling his style of organising his novel endings as a series of appendices.

However, there are rare, searing insights, especially when highlighting the plights of mentally ill patients at psychiatric facilities. Rudgear’s psychiatrist is said to receive all-expenses-paid vacations and invitations to conferences at luxurious resorts, courtesy of numerous pharmaceutical companies, in exchange for prescribing Rudgear a “list of 19 meds, a third of them redundant and unnecessary.”

My main quibble with the story would be its sense of self-conscious chirpiness, cloying and cutesy, which pervades the novel. Veblen is supposed to be an unconventional protagonist, but her quirks are stretched too far. For instance, we are told that as a child she used to carry an old typewriter around everywhere — to help her neighbours type out their memories. Another long-winded bit, where she expounds upon the family dynamics of squirrels, is quite irrelevant.

The writing is strongest in passages where hilarious mockery is directed at the preposterous marketing ploys used in the seemingly dignified profession of medical research. The Portable Veblen deals with a lot of interesting, relevant themes — but most of them are not given room to develop.

The reviewer is a Karachi-based freelance writer and critic.

The Portable Veblen
(Novel)
By Elizabeth McKenzie
Penguin Press, United Kingdom
ISBN: 978-1594206856
448pp.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, June 12th, 2016