My inherent radar for the combination of literary, quirky and witty drew me to Elizabeth McKenzie’s novel The Portable Veblen.

Firstly, McKenzie’s prose is a delight to read, at times whimsical, but always with a strong emotional connection.

"The waterway roared, as frothy as a cauldron, a heaving jam of the year’s broken brambles and debris. She watched the wind jerk the trees, quivering, scattering their litter. The creek roared, you see. Did water fret about madness? Did trees?"

This is a story of and about details. The characters’ introspection (and undoubtedly other psychological categorisations) lead them to identifying meaning in the smallest things – the results ranging from wonderment and appreciation, to unhealthy obsession and compulsion, and some hilariously deadpan dialogue.

But The Portable Veblen‘s story arc, explores with depth and compassion the complicated relationship children (no matter what age) can have with their parents.

"A life could be spent like an apology—to prove you had been worth it."

For the most part the often tangential subject matter (some quite high-brow), or more accurately McKenzie’s witty presentation of it, held my interest. However, the lead character’s reflections on the life of economist and social critic Thorstein Veblen, and her propensity for listing things, stretched my engagement in the mid-section.

However I am pleased to report that The Portable Veblen‘s pace soon quickened and all that had unravelled (storylines and characters alike!) came together in a beautifully farcical denouement.

PS: I know some people make a point of not reading epilogues and the like, but trust me, read McKenzie’s story appendices – they are a real treat.