Since Chuck Klosterman made his name as a music journalist, it’s tempting to describe his second novel, “The Visible Man,” using an analogy from that realm. But I’m not going to compare this book to the Black Crowes’ sophomore album “The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion,” a disc whose charms are less immediate but ultimately more sophisticated than the retro-rockers' rowdy debut “Shake Your Money Maker.”
Or maybe I just did.
“Visible Man” focuses on an Austin, Texas therapist with a comic-book-girlfriend name, Victoria Vick, and her mysterious male patient, known to the reader only as Y____.
A rogue scientist, Y____ has developed technology allowing him to become invisible. Y____ uses this power to sneak into peoples' homes in order to indulge his fascination with how differently humans behave when alone. He enlists Vick for sessions to work out his complicated feelings about what transpires during these covert observations.
Klosterman constructs a viscous web in “Visible.” But he does so by restraining his comedic touch to serve the story. Klosterman’s first novel, “Downtown Owl,” explored small town quirkiness via the author’s dazzling pop-culture riffery. However, “Owl” built to a less than satisfying ending that - unlike the rest of the book - felt unnatural.
“Visible Man” is completely the opposite. The first two-thirds of the tome are a slow burn.
Waiting for Klosterman to fully unleash his wit, I kept thinking, “‘Wow, I liked ‘Downtown Own’ a lot better than this.” Some of Y____’s voyeuristic stories are, well, pretty lame. (Turns out, there’s a reason for this.) Klosterman really opens things up during the last third of “Visible Man,” when it becomes apparent life and death will be at stake.
Finishing the book’s last sentence on page 230, I found myself thinking, “Man, this completely smokes ‘Downtown Owl.’”
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