To drip into a Tom Robbins novel is like evaluating a Rorschach Test. You see what you see. Robbins is an incredible wordsmith, and often a bit nutty. He is less slapsticky than Pynchon, but is in the same conspiracy-happy weight class. He has a Twain meets Vonnegut sense of humor and is a sharp observer of the homo sapiens species, maybe too observant. He doesn’t pull punches. The story takes place in the mid 90’s (when it was written) just as the stock market has gone belly up. Gwen Mati isn’t ready to tap out just yet, but she’s getting pretty desperate. She wants to dump the Jesus freak she’s been dating, and for good reason. He’s given up the one concrete thing in his cheesy life, his personal wealth, and has opted to help the poor schlubs among us. Gwen isn’t ready to go Social Worker. Her stomach may be doing somersaults, but she’s hatched a shady plan to speculate in commodities.

The driving force behind Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas is something akin to Butterfly Theory, but laced with snarky serendipity. Every wing flutter contributes to the overall effect, but it’s stuff like Dizzy Gillespie accidentally sitting on his trumpet one day that really reshapes our understanding of the world.

It’s hard to review a satirist. People either love or hate this kind of writer. I just so happen to be a disciple so maybe that makes me biased. If you’re after action then this is not the book for you despite the fact that our friendly neighborhood, down-on-her-luck protagonista is searching for two missing parties: 1) a jewel-snatching Barbary ape 2) a 300-pound Swami. The missing ape is more of a foil and the hunt for Q-Jo (the 300-pound Swami and Gwen’s “Best Friend”) takes a backseat for the burgeoning relationship between Gwen and the semi-sleazy, erstwhile stockbroker-cum-spiritualist, Larry Diamond.

Don’t get me wrong, this is not a love story. Not the Proustian kind anyways. There’s too much salacious dialogue, innuendo, and, generally speaking, goofiness, to be in the ballpark of the canonical French Romance. Also, the Timbuktu-obsessed Larry Diamond has put frogs on such a pedestal there are times you get the impression that this is a how-to-worship-lillypad-huggers book. It’s also about the strange interconnectedness of the cosmos.

Robbins paces story into micro-chunks of time, but you never get the sense that he is rattling off feckless minutia. He’s extremely adroit at holding your interest because there is always an important hanging thread between sections. Again my nod to butterfly theory. Robbins weaves his tale based upon his many interests. That he is able to tie these many threads is a testament to his storytelling capabilities. He’s a bon mot-dropper. His protagonista Gwen even has a novel way of dealing with stress. She ponders George Washington’s wooden teeth.

Robbins has a fabulist bent about him, but this Amphibious caper is more kooky than fantastical if I’m comparing it to Still Life with Woodpecker.

Το να γραψεις μια κριτικη για βιβλιο του Ρομπινς ειναι πολυ δυσκολο.να περιγραψεις την πλοκη? Τους χαρακτηρες? Τον τροπο γραφης? Ειναι σαν αυτες τις epic fail στιγμες που λες ενα αστείο με το οποιο κανεις δε γελα και προσπαθεις να διασωσεις την αξιοπρεπεια σου λεγοντας "επρεπε να ησουν εκει να το δεις για να γελασεις". Αυτο συμβαινει με τα βιβλια του Ρομπινς.αν δεν τα εχεις διαβασει, ο,τι και να σου πουν ειναι λιγο ή ακομη χειροτερα μπορει και να σε αποτρεψει..οποτε το μονο που μπορω να πω ειναι οτι αυτο το βιβλιο με ταξιδεψε στο περιεργο αλλα και μαγικο συμπαν του τρελο-Ρομπινς και το απηλαυσα παρα πολυ.μπαινει στα αγαπημενα μου του συγγραφεα.

Nope. I bailed. A pity as the story was interesting, but the constant metaphors and similes were exhausting. Life is too short to slog through almost 500 pages of it.

My guess is Tom Robbins was only able to keep one hand on the typewriter while working on this one.

I discovered this while searching for something to counter someone's argument that if a book uses second-person narration, the "you" must refer to the reader rather than a character in the story. On the upside, it did that successfully, and I’m left wondering why anyone would be confused by a book referring to a character as "you." It also features some clever turns of phrase and witty prose.

As for the rest of the reading experience, it came across as an old hippie, oblivious to his tendency to see the world in stereotypes and his sexual proclivities, grooming a younger woman. Gwendolyn, the protagonist, is stripped or diddled throughout most of the book, with each part of her vagina described in detail every time. I'm no prude—I’d have no shame reading Marquis de Sade in a cathedral—but the difference between a book like this and Alissa Nutting's Tampa is that Tampa wore its intentions on its sleeve, whereas Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas seems like a case of an author unknowingly working through his fetish.

It doesn’t help that the scenes surrounding Gwen’s panties falling to the floor and/or soaking amount to little more than someone getting high on mushrooms (or, in this case, licking a toad) and spouting psychobabble. This is my first Tom Robbins novel, and it’s hard to imagine wanting to read anything else of his.

I really loved Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates, but I think the novelty of Robbins's style that drew me delightfully into that book simply wore thin in Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas. The novels are similar in their intelligent approach to mystical pop culture, but one is really enough to get the idea.

Could not get more than 80 pages into this thing. Tom Robbins might be the most insufferably clever and self-satisfied author that I’ve ever encountered. DNF

The master of metaphor and sorcerer of simile, Robbins plays with language like a pregnant deer going at a salt lick on a septic mound. The tarot cards tell all and clearly mainstream society has willfully gotten everything wrong all along. See you in Timbuktu.

Robbins' writing is, as always, rich with humor and philosophical musings. He employs a second-person narrative that draws you directly into the story, creating an immersive experience that feels both personal and engaging. This stylistic choice might be jarring for some, but it perfectly complements the novel's offbeat and unpredictable nature.

The characters are quirky and memorable, from the mysterious tarot card reader to the philosophical primate, each adding a layer of depth and intrigue to the story. Robbins explores themes of existentialism, consumerism, and the search for meaning in a world teetering on the edge of chaos. His ability to weave these themes into the narrative with wit and insight is one of the novel's strengths.

While the plot can feel disjointed at times, it's a deliberate choice that mirrors the book's chaotic setting and the inner turmoil of its protagonist. You have to embrace the absurdity and find beauty in the chaos, a message that resonates long after the final page is turned.

There is always something magical when one commits themselves to a Tom Robbins book. Maybe it's more mysticism or just the prescribed ride one needs to take outside of their comfort reading zone. It's often challenging to keep up, but there are numerous synaptic jolt stimulants awaiting you ahead. Proceeding with caution is never, and I mean, never an option.

I read this first a very long time ago, and after the loss of a friend that knew the author, I went back again for the laughs and for Kate - a true friend, and a support beam for every writer she knew. I miss her and her wonderful and contagious laugh.

Otherwise, read the book. You need a break from the mundane, and an indirect Spiritual trip to Timbuktu(be prepared, as you will after your own passing, to go through either Atlanta or Charlotte to get there; tax, tag and title are not included; tremendous assembly will be required; and don't bother with the insurance). Be assured, these journeys are always good for the soul, and it'll build some good calluses on your feet.

Tom Robbins has always been a favorite author of mine and he hasn't even written that many books - only 11 for all intents and purposes - so I kind of can't believe I haven't read them all by now. Just a few more to go after this one. As per the course with his special brand of humor, you can always expect a very non serious affair. This one mainly focuses around the stock market in the 90s, Timbuktu, Tarot Cards, a monkey who loves frozen bananas, Cancer, amphibians, and a bowling alley. And quite a bit of sexiness. In fact, one of my most favorite ongoing gags of the book is Diamond's ongoing pussy-centric nicknames for our heroine Gwen. Pussy butter, pussy chops, pussy fondue, pussy burger, and my personal favorite pussy nougat. Well, you get the point. On the surface of things this probably seems crass and childish, but I promise you, over in the course of getting to know the characters it's wildly perfect and acceptable and hilarious - and that's kind of Tom Robbins in a nutshell. Who else could make such a ridiculous blend of topics meld together into a perfect concoction of a story, anyway? That my friends, is a talent. Very amusing book.

What a ride! Tom Robbins and his truly imaginative, descriptive writing is on full display in this hilarious novel. I cannot imagine what else is happening in his mind, the stuff he doesn't publish. This book is simply outrageous and totally fun to read.

A terse review.

First book I've read by Tom Robbins.

Thumbs up, but a bit over-written. Main character, not that likeable. Monkey characters fix a lot of problems in fiction. Like the plot. Haven't actually finished the book, but wanted to get the review out of the way. 15 more pages to go. Somehow, I think I know the ending.

Cheers to the coworker who let me borrow this book. Must remember to thank him. Written in 1994 -- reminds me of the 90s. For some reason, this book makes me want to read Nick Hornby.

Hulk smash! Don't know where that came from!

End terse review now?

Okay!