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Imagine that there are American MIAs who chose to remain missing after the Vietnam War. Imagine that there is a family in which four generations of strong, alluring women have shared a mysterious connection to an outlandish figure from Japanese folklore. Imagine just those things (don't even try to imagine the love story) and you'll have a foretaste of Tom Robbins's eighth and perhaps most beautifully crafted novel--a work as timeless as myth yet as topical as the latest international threat. On one level, this is a book about identity, masquerade and disguise--about the false mustache of the worldo--but neither the mists of Laos nor the smog of Bangkok, neither the overcast of Seattle nor the fog of San Francisco, neither the murk of the intelligence community nor the mummery of the circus can obscure the linguistic phosphor that illuminates the pages of Villa Incognito. A female fan once wrote to Tom Robbins: Your books make me think, they make me laugh, they make me horny and they make me aware of the wonder of everything in life.o Villa Incognito will surely arouse a similar response in many readers, for in its lusty, amusing way it both celebrates existence and challenges our ideas about it. To say much more about a novel as fresh and surprising as Villa Incognito would run the risk of diluting the sheer fun of reading it. As his dedicated readers worldwide know full well, it's best to climb aboard the Tom Robbins tilt-a-whirl, kiss preconceptions and sacred cows goodbye and simply enjoy the ride.… (more)
User reviews
In "Incognito," the tanuki seek out human females to mate with, and when they succeed, it ruins the woman for any other relationship. When the tanuki and the woman conceive, another human female is born, and becomes a teacher to pass on certain aspects of the regional lore. My efforts so far to meld this plot line into the overall theme of faith and charity as it is illicitly pursued in Laos - I've come a cropper.
Highly diverting work. I love the erudition, and the offbeat sensuality, especially in the heart and mind of the tanuki. Plotwise, this is a very straightforward book; don't come for the plot only, come for the fun!
When I say "quick little read," I mean it. The novel was quite short, and I felt that the conclusion was somewhat lacking. I would have liked a bit more explanation on the chrysanthemum seed and what it meant. I don't mind puzzling a few things out for myself, but that seemed to be the central theme of the story, and a bit more revelation would have been nice.
What a lark! Oh, I'm sure some would talk about the depth and philosophy, the commentary and truth and whatnot, but that's not what I like. I like the fanciful shaping of events, the hopping from this odd vantage point to that. I like the lightness of it. I like the fun.
What was it about? Tanuki and tanukis, America, experiments, and running from the Gods of Bullshit. It's about taking disaster in one's hands to move on and falling into deep gorges. It's about endless knock-knock jokes, Southeast Asia, walking on a wire, going missing on purpose, love, appetite, and chrysanthemums. I may have just spoiled the whole book right there, but read it anyway.
Welcome to Robbins country, a place where maniacal humour, pointed social commentary, and fantastic plot
Robbins has made a name for himself with a series of alternately daft and deft novels, marked by a singularity of vision and prose that few can match. Along with quirky contemporaries such as Christopher Moore and Neal Stephenson, and owing more than a great deal to the genre-bending works of Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., Robbins’ works are, at their best, devastatingly funny and quick-witted masterpieces, while also serving as sometimes overly blunt satires of the world we live in. If all this comes at the expense of plot, it is a price his fans are willing to pay.
Villa Incognito’s storyline, such as it is, concerns three American MIAs who have chosen to remain missing rather than return to America. As befits a man who once crafted a main character out of an empty tin of baked beans (the tour de force Skinny Legs and All), Robbins manages to incorporate such disparate elements as terrorism, clown fetishists, drug smugglers, Vietnam War, high-wire artists, and a badger-like manifestation from Japanese folklore.
The plots of Robbins’ compositions, as in the best of Vonnegut, exist only to function as a curtain rod over which he drapes his wonderful digressions. No topic is too minor nor too sacred a cow to skewer: He attacks 9/11 and America’s so-called solution to the drug problem with as much manic fervour as he espouses the magical qualities of mayonnaise.
The constant asides onto whatever subject he deems important are what make his tales both so enjoyable to read, and difficult to encapsulate. (For ample proof of this, look no further than the atrocious Hollywood adaptation of his novel Even Cowgirls Get the Blues.)
As such, the plot of Villa incognito is slight. Too slight. There lacks a concrete base to fully support the weight of themes. His characters, excepting the likable Dickie Goldwire and the Colonel Kurtz-like figure of Mars Albert Stubblefield, fail to make any impact beyond the printed page. Like the high-wire performers he describes, Robbins’ story is precariously balanced on too fine a foundation. It falters, and finally tumbles.
Yet that should not dissuade the uninitiated from reveling in the many pleasures to be found. Writer’s Digest proclaimed Robbins “one of the best writers of the 20th century.” Perhaps in his finest works, he is.
Here, however, he’s merely on a quick stroll though the offbeat avenues of his mind. That the result may lack importance doesn’t detract from its entertainment value.
If you're a child of the 60's you'll like this book.
a capital T) is a tanuki (lower case) which is an animal very like a badger.
This one is a horny little thing and delights in drinking sake and seducing
simple minded farm girls. Then he develops the ability to shape-shift
become a man, which allows him to seduce the aristocracy and drink a lot
more sake. This story is set in Southeast Asia, and is one of the most
convoluted things I've picked up to read. There are American MIAs who have
decided to stay behind in the jungle and become anonymous. There is also a
beautiful young woman who claims to have Tanuki blood in her veins and who
definitely has a chrusanthemum seed embedded in the roof of her mouth. Two
American sisters of one of the MIA soldiers are still searching for their
lost brother, and he is arrested with heroin taped to his body while dressed
as a priest. Lost yet? I was. About 20 pages into the story, my eyes
glazed over.
Life is too short to spend it reading trash like this. DNF
And in the first chapter I learned a lot more about Tanuki's scrotum than I cared to know. I didn't warm to the book until the second part or so, when the style changes from
Highly fragmented and non-linear, the various micronarratives actually came together at the
The expected Robbins irreverent humor and crazy wisdom persisted throughout.
About halfway through the book began to
If this is typical of his more recent work (last 20 years), I'll stick with reading his older books. Definitely not his best work.