I'd actually give this a 3.5 star rating, but that's not a stated option! Tim O'Brien, a Worthington native, came to my mind again recently when I was at a local women's club meeting and a couple of the older women in attendance mentioned they thought he'd been too rash with his personal and community disclosures in some of his books--of course, that did nothing but whet my curiosity, so I had to read more. "Tomcat in Love" is a very different animal from "In the Lake of the Woods," which I'd earlier read, but O'Brien still manages to work in references to Vietnam war experiences--naturally, I suppose, as his time there had an enormous impact on him personally in a variety of ways. "Tomcat in Love" is centered in a town (which is fictional but, in reality, based on Worthington) and main character Tom's lifelong pursuit of and love for the lovely but enigmatic Lorna Sue. There's some lampooning of academia in here, as well. Is Tom crazy? Which parts of his recollections are based in reality, and/or which parts are so colored by him in trying to make himself appear the better person as to be exaggerated beyond nearly all recognition from the truth? Clearly Tom is a near sex addict (at least woman addict), and he seems to rally all kinds of excuses to justify his behavior. But is Tom the crazy one.....or is it Lorna Sue? Or is it her brother? And are the supposedly "sane, normal" people really all that normal after all? Is Tom paranoid, or is he really been followed by some fellow Vietnam compatriots he may or may not have dissed in the jungles of southeast Asia years earlier? I was left with my own opinion on all of these questions, but that's not to say my inferences are entirely correct--not sure there is an "entirely correct" take on this book. Nevertheless, I found it interesting, and gained more insight into the quirky mind of native son Tim O'Brien--and to heck with the old ladies who don't like people to "reveal things!"

All of the reviews quoted on the cover of Tomcat in Love call it a "comic novel," or "wildly funny," or "laugh-out-loud funny." I closed the book and looked at those reviews multiple times during my reading. The main character is sort of a hapless guy. He's a professor of linguistics in Minnesota, a Vietnam veteran, a man who is irresistible to women (don't believe that? Just ask him, he'll tell you) - and yet, things seem to always turn out wrong for him. He married his childhood sweetheart, Lorna Sue, but she's since left him and married a tycoon with a stupid name. The problem is that Thomas just can't let go, no matter what his pursuit of her does to his life.

Sounds hilarious, right?

It is, kind of. It reminded me of an Elmore Leonard novel being put into a blender with Catch-22 and about a third of Tristram Shandy, and then someone sneaking in a dash of A Confederacy of Dunces. (Full disclosure: I absolutely hated A Confederacy of Dunces, but I cannot help but note some similarities between Ignatius T. Reilly and Thomas H. Chippering). O'Brien has a way of mixing the heartbreaking, the true, and the ridiculous together from paragraph to paragraph, and he does that frequently here. I felt like the book was maybe just a tad over-long, but I'm not sure what could be cut. I just know that my reading pace slowed in the latter part.

Recommended for: fans of breaking the fourth wall, logophiles, people who don't mind the absurd mixed in with their pathos (or vice versa).

Quote: "The shortest distance between two points may well be a straight line, but one must remember that efficiency is not the only narrative virtue."

This book gets a half star for the punchy title, and another half star for my enjoyment of Tim O'Briens other books. Everything else about this novel was absolutely horrific. The main character is a vile pervert who wins in the end? I question your sanity Mr. O'Brien. Don't read this confuddling nonsense.

Look, I love Tim O'Brien. And there are sections of this novel where his prose sparkles -- with the unreliable narrator of Thomas Chippering. But O'Brien can't do comedy. This is leagues worse than a genuinely hilarious academic satire like Richard Russo's STRAIGHT MAN or Ishamael Reed's JAPANESE BY SPRING. I was prepared to forgive O'Brien for a lot of his misfires (a great author should always try new things!), but he also has the temerity to make nearly every woman in this book a complaisant doormat. And, yes, I get that we can't trust Chippering and this is probably his male ego talking. But what is the ultimate point of this exercise? A married woman with a husband in jail fawns over this arrogant prick. A student blackmails Chippering into writing a thesis for a hacky story that leads (predictably) to Chippering losing his job. And then there's the casual kink-shaming. It's clear that O'Brien has no direct experience of the kink world. And the depictions here are borderline misogynist and insulting. This novel falls apart by the 200 page mark as we read Chippering's downfall and really don't care. Points to O'Brien for writing outside of his usual zone. But he can't stick the landing.

I started out finding this book funny, it lured me in. The author skillfully got me to see the world through the eyes of the main character. As time went on, I started to resent him a bit, I mean, I resented the author-because i had already recommended the book to a friend. I had to keep reading, I was getting annoyed with the character. I stopped laughing and saw the reality. At one point i felt manipulated by Tim O'Brien and started to resent him, Oh, not enough to get the Mason Jars out. This is what I loved-he is that skillful a writer.
This character is not so far off from people I have met.
Now well into the "Me Too" movement, it is timely.
The character's long term handling of (no spoilers here) early experiences has authenticity.

The ending wraps up faster than I expected it would, but that is probably good since i had to finally rest my eyes. Looking back, I think the pace of the wrap up reflected the change in the characters mindset.

یک رمان آمریکایی جذاب به دور از کلیشه‌های مرسوم
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‏به‌نظرم همه‌ی ما به توهم او نیازمندیم. به زندگی پس از مرگ. به سازنده‌ی سیارات. به زنی برای عشق ورزیدن. به مردی برای تنفر داشتن. به چیزی مقدس.حیف...
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ما در جهانی زندگی می‌کنیم که همه‌چیزدان‌ها و بدگوها و سطحی‌نگرها و پاسبانان بی‌سواد هر روز بیش از پیش اشغالش می‌کنند.
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شانزده ساله که بودم، در باد پاییزی ذرت‌زار، عشق را روی کاپوت پونتیاک سبز پدرم یافتم. فولادی را که پوستم لمس می‌کرد یادم هست. تاریکی را و باد تند را و خش‌خش ذرت‌زار را هم.
پونتیاک یعنی آیا این وضعیت بهتر خواهد شد؟ و آن کلمه سرخ‌پوست زینتی رو کاپوت. آیا آن حرامزاده پایم را گاز گرفت؟ صدای خنده‌ای شنیدم؟
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جهان جیغ می‌کشد و چنگالش را در قلبمان فرو می‌کند. این را می‌گوییم حافظه.
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بالای تنسی فهمیدم که سیالیت “نه” مثل سیالیت احساس است. انکار به انزجار می‌انجامد. امتناع به تردید. زنی می‌پرسد: دوستم داری؟ تو در جواب می‌گویی : نه. اما بعد از رفتن او بعد از شش ماه زندگی مجردی، وقتی با ماشینش از کنارت می‌گذرد، شاید جیغ بلندی بکشی که: “نه! نه! “
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در جهان متمدن، خیلی راحت یادمون می‌ره که آدم برای همیشه زنده نیست. به نظرم به همین خاطره که این‌قدر جنگ رو دوست داریم. چون مثل اینه که.....خودت خوب می‌دونی....این خاطره‌ی خوب...
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وای از این قدرت ترسناک کلمات. واژه‌ها جنگ را می‌آغازند. عشق را می‌کشند. من خودم در یک مهمانی رسمی استادان دانشگاه، هزینه گزافی پرداخت کردم. (به قیمت از دست دادن پنجمین جایزه هیوبرت اچ همفری تمام شد.) و سر چه موضوعی؟ حرف اول یک کلمه را جابجا کردم. اگر جای “ر” کلمه‌ام را با “د” شروع کرده بودم، الان جایزه مال من بود. چون به رییس دانشگاه گفتم: “قیافه‌تون ریدنیه.”
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راوی یک استاد زبان‌شناس است و بازی‌های زبانی جالبی در داستان دارد که در ترجمه هم تاحدی خوب از کار درآمده است.‌

I am not very discerning when it comes to my love for this book. Anything that involves pretentious know-it-alls, Jesus complexes, and manic revenge vacations basically has me at its very first loquacious and inverted explanation.

In this way, I almost appreciate it more than The Things They Carried because it is so desperately and unapologetically frail. It doesn't have the force of O'Brien's other works, but rather pulls the smaller train wrecks of neuroses out of the ordinary. The narrator is a linguistics professor, which is how the text allows tangents to form so easily, but as long as those rambling trains of thought lead to actions like taking a vacation with his girlfriend to his ex-wife's state to execute revenge plots, I'm not complaining.

I got through it surprisingly fast, but I kind of hated all of the characters (especially the main character/narrator), even after the redemptive arc at the end. Three stars because it somehow kept me reading despite despising the characters.

Very weird book. The main character could best be described as sophomoric, juvenile, immature, need I go on. I struggled to find a character I could just dislike as I loathed most in the novel. He did try to redeem some towards the end of the book but was too little too late. I really expected better from this author. Disappointing!

Just silly. I love Tim O’BRIEN, but this is not worthy of him.

Another oblivious, delusional crotch-led loser stumble-raving through an otherwise interesting story. Funny and too pathetic.

On page 172, it becomes crystal clear that Thomas H. Chippering, the protagonist of Tim O’Brien’s darkly outrageous new novel, Tomcat in Love, is presidential not only in his appearance but in his actions, as well. More on that in a moment.

First, it helps to remember something philosopher-writer William Gass once wrote about the words that are his stock and trade: “When a character looks out through a window, or occasionally peeks in through one, it is the word ‘window’ he is really looking through.” Put another way, there is no reality in fiction outside of ink on the page. The words resonate inside of us even as much as the actions they describe.

Words in and of themselves constitute a kind of reality for Chippering, too. A professor of linguistics, he is undergoing what he calls—with breathtaking understatement -- “a certain subtle frenzy” in his life. Deserted by his wife and childhood sweetheart Lorna Sue, he is stalked by memories of their life together. In turn, he stalks Lorna Sue, along with her new husband and her brother Herbie, all the while ruminating on the history that has brought him first to the edge of, and then completely over, the cliff of breakdown.

“The world shrieks and sinks talons into our hearts. This we call memory,” O’Brien’s narrator tells us. And for him, memory is contained entirely within a short list of words, like “Tampa” (where Lorna Sue cuckolded him), or “Pontiac” (upon which they first consummated their love), or “turtle.” All the mystery of words seems to be wrapped up inside of “turtle.” “I cannot encounter that word without a gate creaking open inside me,” Chippering admits. “Turtle for the world—turtle for you—will never be turtle for me.”

Altogether reasonable. And sympathetic. But it quickly becomes apparent that Chippering is another of O’Brien’s notoriously unreliable narrators. On the one hand, he tells us that he resembles “a clean-shaven version of our sixteenth President”; on the other, he insists on being irresistible to women. By page 172, it is apparent that the professor is not simply vainglorious (though often hilariously so) but dangerous. That’s when we learn about the ledger, where, since adolescence, Chippering has recorded his history with women: “Hand-holdings: 421. Nuzzlings: 233. Valentines: 98. Marriages: 1. Meaningful gazes: 1,788. Home runs: 4. Near misses: 128.” Chippering defends the book as “a professional’s daily log,” and so absurdly reveals himself to be the worst kind of sexual predator: one who seems to be entirely unaware of himself and who continually uses language to finesse and justify his actions.