Each and every female character is about as deep as raindrop. What I cannot stand is the novel's sloppy, infantile lewdness and its utterly misogynistic treatment of women. I found the narrative arc (minus the pseudo-spirituality) well crafted and interesting. It is well researched and I like the playful attitude towards myth, history, perfume and food. I must admit that there are some admirable aspects about JP. Aside from its misogyny, the lamest thing about this novel is the spiritual message clumsily tacked onto the plot and heavily underscored in the last 40 pages. My original instinct was correct: this is a novel for the all-male tribe I call "toilet philosophers" because most of the philosophy they read was while they were on the pot. Lately, I've been getting multiple nudges from friends who know I've been researching olfaction so I gave in and read JP for research. The way he and his pretentious 20-something arty bros talked about Robbins put me off in a big way. I avoided Tom Robbins novels for years particularly because my old boyfriend was such a fanatic about him and even when I was deep into him, we disagreed on most literature.
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