THE MEZZANINE

This novel is a perfect target for academicians such as Allan Bloom and, most recently, Robert Proctor (“Education’s Great Amnesia”) who point out that doctoral degrees are now awarded in such subjects as comic books and lament that almost anything has become meritorious of in-depth inquiry. New Yorker writer Nicholson Baker studies virtually every thought that enters the mind of his protagonist as the young man takes an escalator ride back to his office after spending his lunch hour in search of shoelaces. Hardly pondering the Great Questions, our narrator wonders why plastic straws have replaced paper straws, how the plastic ice cube tray came to replace the metal ice cube tray and exactly when old-fashioned, hefty milk bottles evolved into the folding carton.

“The Mezzanine” is not pure whimsy: Baker is genuinely curious about what people--and gadgets--do. He peppers pages with abundant and detailed footnotes analyzing shoe lace designs, for instance. On one occasion he compares phonograph tone-arms to staplers (“In the case of the tone-arm, the stylus retrieves the information, while in the case of the stapler, the staple binds it together as a unit”) and notes that both resemble train locomotives.

An innovative, intimate novel, “The Mezzanine” helps us recognize the thoughts we share with others, fostering a sense of belonging, and the ways we see things differently, fostering a sense of identity.