I haven't been able to finish a Robbins since Still Life. But I keep trying. I begin to forget why.

I'll start off by saying that I think I would have enjoyed this book more if I had read it a couple of years later. My dad recommended the author to me after I finished Cat's Cradle and said "that was crazy." He said "You think Vonnegut is nuts? Try Robbins." Robbins' books should be put in the literary asylum. But this is a really good book, full of nonstop energy and hilarity, but it's definitely adult humor. The main character is a CIA "errand boy" who doesn't like to play by the rules. He prefers sex, drugs, and rock n' roll to patriotism and business rules and hierarchy. He goes on this grand adventure that takes him all the way around the world: Peru, Syria, Vatican City. He finds himself, at different times, in the company of a parrot, an Amazonian shaman, an English anthropologist, his seductively innocent teenage stepsister, his crazy computer-hacking grandmother, and a group of self-named nuns advocating birth control. I'll warn you though, Robbins' writing style is so laden with clever similes and beyond-SAT vocabulary, that it kind of knocks the wind out of you and makes you wonder what the heck just happened. And kind of in a good way. Although I must say that it sort of felt like Robbins was trying to flaunt his brilliance and kind of was just writing in a purposefully clever and confusing way, and as if he were saying "yeah, you know I'm smarter than you and you know that I'm awesome." Underneath it all, he poses some of life's big questions. Though, I couldn't really tell you what they were. This book is half nonsense and insanity and half hilarious brilliance. With a dash of the sick and twisted, made even more so by the jovial manner in which it is delivered. I liked it. I think. I'm still kind of stupefied, but I had fun.

Robins never fails to remind me why I love to read, his books are a wild ride of outrageous ideas, sharp humor, and inventive storytelling. They’re a mix of loony antics, sardonic philosophical commentary, and lively writing, all rolled into one. Robbins has a knack for blending poetry with storytelling. His books are filled with vivid descriptions and charming comparisons, but he uses these techniques to explore everyday and downright bizarre situations. Additionally the humor isn’t cheap, it’s packed with mysticism, political satire, romance, and even international intrigue.

In this particular novel, the story follows Switters, a CIA agent who finds himself cursed by a Peruvian shaman with a pyramid-shaped head called “today is tomorrow”. The curse is that Switters’s feet can never touch the ground again or he’ll die immediately. So, he spends the rest of the novel either in a wheelchair or on stilts. After leaving the CIA, he pursues a ridiculous fantasy involving his teenage stepsister. Eventually, he’s off to Iraq and Syria, where he ends up under the protection of a group of nuns hiding a secret prophecy from the Catholic Church.
Much of the other characters are whisky unforgettable as Switters himself, like Bobby, a macho CIA buddy, and Domino, the radical abbess nun who switters falls immediately in love. Switters’s adventures are filled with wild encounters and clever one-liners. Robbins also sneaks in some serious observations, like critiques of consumer culture, which add depth to the fun.

“silence is a mirror. So faithful, and yet so unexpected, is the reflection it can throw back at men that they will go to almost any length to avoid seeing themselves in it, and if ever its duplicating surface is temporarily wiped clean of modern life's ubiquitous hubbub, they vil hasten to fog it over with such desperate personal noise devices as polite conversation, humming, whistling, imaginary dialogue, schizophrenic babble, or, should it come to that, the clandestine cannonry of their own farting. Only in sleep is silence tolerated, and even there, most dreams have soundtracks. Since meditation is a deliberate descent into deep internal hush, a mute stare into the ultimate looking glass, it is regarded with suspicion by the nattering masses; with hostility by business interests (people sitting in silent serenity are seldom consuming goods); and with spite by a clergy whose windy authority it is seen to undermine and whose bombastic livelihood it is perceived to threaten.”

It took me the longest time to finish this book; to me it's boring and annoying, and I can' t get the wittiness of it.

Hmmm. I’m conflicted. I enjoyed the story and characters (classic Robbins) BUT I didn’t love Switters being into underaged girls… like was that really necessary and pertinent to the story? No. There was def ways around that so like BRO WHY. I liked Switters other than that I really did but now I’m just kind of sus abt Robbins. Men are the worst, they truly are, and they just prove over and over again why they are so. Alas I’m giving it 4 stars… count your days.

3.5 ⭐️

though this edition has the same isbn, my book has only 415 pages...

This was a challenging book to read, it took me a long while to get through it. The Switters character was not particularly likable as someone of substance, though I am admittedly disgusted by men leching after young women/girls, he did take his journey & seemed to end up in a good enough spot. And the run on pararagraphs of decriptions had me losing interest on many an occasion. Tom, you are creative, ok, I get it! Now, move on. Maybe save some of those fantastic witticisms for later. He reminds of a kid of five running about with endless energy- just wait until that kid is 60!

pretty great. probably only four stars, except C.R.A.F.T and the recurring references to  Finnegan's Wake really delighted me, pushing it up.

This was the only book I had to hand to read while I sat by my father's bedside for a few days this year. It was ghastly.

I found this book disturbing and boring. (Strike that - it wasn't interesting enough to be disturbing). As mentioned previously the main protagonist and his male friend are paedophiles, and the author made out this was a bit of a joke. Which it isn't.

He also seemed to love the sound of his own (narrative) voice, and, frankly, was tedious. He put flowery sentences in for the sake of it. The book wafted around like a drunken wasp. Annoying, going nowhere and ultimately you just want to slap it down.

It took me ages to read - mainly because once I put it down I couldn't really be bothered to pick it up again - I really didn't care what happened to "Switters". Actually even his name annoyed me. What a stupid upper class twit that name describes - and it fitted.



The idea that this man could be CIA agent is ridiculous.

I don't recommend this to anyone. It was just annoying and I wasted time in my life reading it. BOO.

I would probably think this was cool and funny if I was 1000 years old but I'll give it 2 stars instead of 1 because Jitterbug Perfume was rad.

I am having a hard time with this book. I belong to a book club and two of the ladies said they love Tom Robbins books. Coming off reading Shades of Grey Trilogy (Which I have yet to finish). I was thinking I could go for fun. I don't get it. Switters is a bafoon with a pediophile desire. I am trying to push through for the sake of the book club but keep getting distracted by anything other than this book. It is not a page turner. There is so much detail about every little incident. I am bored to the point of tears. Maybe it is just me but I would say spare yourself the trouble.

The author probably would appreciate how I stumbled upon this book. There I was, bumbling around a hippy neighborhood in the city where Robbins came into his writing prime, when I saw a first edition copy in a used bookstore. As an admirer of Robbins in my college years, and out of appreciation for happenstance, I couldn't pass it up.

In interviews, Robbins says that this book is him at his most autobiographical: the main character is a stylized version of himself. The tale follows an ex-CIA agent named Switters, who, due to a hex he picked up from a shaman in the Peruvian Amazon, travels about in a wheelchair. He winds up in a convent on a Syrian oasis run by nuns who cling to a forgotten prophecy and advocate for birth control. Naturally, Switters falls in love with one of its inhabitants.

With this adventure as a backdrop, Robbins trots out familiar themes and ideas: there are red heads, pyramids, rants about advertising ("the more ads I see, the less I want to buy..."), metaphors about the moon, and lurid romantic affairs. But sadly, so many of these were recognizable from his other books (Jitterbug, Still Life, Half Asleep...) that it made me feel like he was recycling material. And while as a college student, I would've eaten up all the digs at "corporate America", here they just felt a little bit naive.

On the plus side, it was certainly entertaining at times. And I appreciated how it celebrates contradictions (as the cover jacket brags, Switters is a pacifist that carries a gun"!). But maybe the best part was the feeling of nostalgia - like I was sitting down with my younger, contrarian, vaguely absurdist self, and thinking about how these days, I'd trade a little more substance for some of the excess in style.

So, a mixed bag overall. After it was all read and done, it made me wonder: Did Robbins get old, or is it just me? I guess, fittingly for a novel that celebrates having it both ways, it's a little of each that contributed to my experience here.