Jul 25, 2011
This whole novel takes place in a few minutes, in a quiet room drenched with late-afternoon sun. As the narrator of Room Temperature feeds his baby daughter, he lets his mind wander—and you get to wander with him, through tiny revelations about nose-picking and green dresses and childhood crimes and mobiles made of paint chips.
It’s a gentle book, but also super funny and shockingly honest. You know that feeling of recognition you get when someone says something you’ve always known, but never been quite able to verbalize? I must have had that sensation ten times reading this thing.
Nicholson Baker is a rare beast—he can write anything from high-concept smut (VOX) to scholarly non-fiction (Human Smoke) to bedtime books for kids (The Everlasting Story of Nory) and still sound just like himself. Room Temperature is a gateway drug to the whole glorious shebang.