How and Why Does The Mezzanine work?

How and Why Does The Mezzanine work?

Throughout all of the books that I have read, either by myself or in English classes, The Mezzanine is definitely one of the weirdest pieces of fiction I have ever read. The interesting thing that The Mezzanine does that other novels don't is that it lacks a real plot. I mean, the book does have a plot, but it is basically about a man getting something from a CVS and taking an escalator to the mezzanine. There is not much action or direction to the plot. Yet, we still have characters, information about our protagonist, and a surprisingly detailed view of the world around him. So, why does this book work when another book with such a basic plot might fail terribly? I think The Mezzanine works because Nicholson Baker replaces a traditional action-driven plot with Howie's observations, memories, relationships, and thoughts. The ordinary becomes interesting because we experience it through Howie's mind.

Almost all novels have characters. They are the backbone of a story and one of the most important parts of a plot, and The Mezzanine does give us characters. For example, one of the most prominent characters mentioned throughout the novel is Tina. Tina works at the front desk and tells the main character, Howie, how to get new shoelaces after his break. The way the novel handles characters is interesting because we aren't really introduced to them in the way we might be in a normal novel. While reading, it sometimes feels like we are inside Howie's mind—or even that we are Howie.

For example, one of the most prominent characters in the novel is Tina. Tina works the front desk and told the main character, "Howie," how to get new shoelaces after he broke his. "Tina had lots of hair, moussed out impressively around a small smart face; she was probably at her most alert just then, because she was watching the phones for Deanne and Julie, the other secretaries in my department" (Baker 28). Another character who comes up is the garbage worker named Ray. From Tina and Howie's conversation, we learn that Ray hurt his back while working on his pool. Again, though, the information isn't just about Ray. We get Howie's reaction to the replacement garbage worker: "That explains why for the last few days, whenever I throw out my coffee cup, I've had to lower it through this puff cushion of plastic. The person who's been taking Ray's place doesn't know how to get rid of the trapped air. I've been enjoying the effect, though—a pillow effect" (Baker 29). What I find interesting is that these descriptions tell us as much about Howie as they do about Tina or Ray. We learn about the other characters through Howie's perspective, and at the same time, we learn how closely Howie pays attention to ordinary things.

Another thing that most novels have is a protagonist, and we learn a lot about Howie even though very little actually happens to him. I feel like we learn the most about Howie through his footnotes. I would honestly call some of them small coming-of-age stories. What I find funny about the footnotes is that Howie just keeps going and going. We get lost in the footnotes in almost the same way that Howie gets lost in his own thoughts.

One of my favorite examples is the doorknob footnote. Howie starts by talking about doorknobs, but somehow that leads him to the doorknobs on his father's closet. Then he thinks about the ties his father owned and how he used to pick them out for him as a kid. Eventually, this leads to a memory of a family dinner when Howie is older, and his father notices the tie he is wearing. His father says, "Hey, hey—nice," and asks whether the tie had once belonged to him or whether Howie had bought it himself (Baker 29). "Fingering the silk. "Is this one of mine or one you bought?" "I picked this one up a while ago, I guess," I said, pretending to think back with effort, when in fact I remembered every detail of the transaction; remembered carrying the very light, very expensive bag home not more than five weeks before. "A 'neat' tie–a 'neat' tie." He lowered his glasses and bent to examine the pattern more closely–rows of paired lozenges intersecting like Venn diagrams, mostly red. "Very fine." (Baker 29) (The whole quote is kinda long so I am going to shorten it.) I really like how, even though the story doesn't have much of a plot, we can still follow our main protagonist and learn more about him.

I really like this moment because something as ordinary as a doorknob eventually becomes a memory about Howie's relationship with his father. That is one reason the footnotes work. They may seem like distractions from the plot, but they are actually where much of the story happens. The doorknob itself isn't important. What it causes Howie to remember is important. Instead of moving the plot forward through action, Baker moves our understanding of Howie forward through memory.

Going into this book, it seemed like it was going to be a nightmare to read. There was almost no plot, and some of the footnotes lasted for pages. At first, it seemed like it was going to be the most boring book ever. But as I kept reading, I got lost in the footnotes—just not in the way I expected. I became interested in them. Learning more about Howie was just as enjoyable to me as following the protagonist of a more traditional novel.

So, in my opinion, The Mezzanine works because its basic plot gives Nicholson Baker room to focus on the things that most novels would ignore. A broken shoelace, a garbage bag, a doorknob, or a tie can lead Howie into memories and observations that tell us something about his personality and his relationships. The novel doesn't need a dramatic adventure because Howie's mind becomes the adventure. By the end, the question isn't really what happened on Howie's trip to the mezzanine. The interesting part is everything he thought about along the way.