Vox

Well, this was the second or third time I have bought this book. I like it quite a bit and keep managing to lend it to people who don't return it!
As one reviewer explained, the "porn" is soft - but the porn isn't what's kept me coming back. The dialogue itself is wonderful. Yes, the character's personalities are a little bland, but I think that's what makes it *good*. If the characters were outlandish and bizarre, their conversation wouldn't be nearly as much fun - these are two utterly ordinary people - having a conversation about things that most people have thought and have perhaps never mentioned out loud.
I for one don't even *read* "erotic novels" - I always wind up laughing too hard to ever get past the first page or two. Vox is surely worth the money, and is thoroughly entertaining. It won't leave you "panting for more", but I at least felt my time and money was well spent (every time I've bought/read it!)

The phone sex premise is intriguing, but I was sorely disappointed. Despite the kinky sex fantasies, I was amazed Nicholson Baker could turn them into something so unsexy. I found it downright tedious, over-intellectualized, and pretentious. As I read, I kept thinking, "Who talks like this?" I gave it two stars instead of one because, to be fair, Vox is well-written. Too bad the pretty prose is wasted on a snooze-worthy non-story.

Basically an experimental novel told entirely in dialogue, between a man and a woman speaking exclusively on the phone through a sex chat line service. A borrowed narrative concept from Philip Roth's "Deception," the book succeeds at what it's trying to accomplish (which is essentially to titillate the reader and give them the impression that they're on the other end of the party line, just listening in and imagining what is going on in the privacy of these two people's homes, one on the East Coast, the other on the West Coast). There are no physical descriptions of the characters or their surroundings, so all of that is supplied strictly from the dialogue, which isn't necessarily "the truth" as each or both of them could possibly be "unreliable narrators" -- even though the author doesn't tip his hand in either direction on that. I barrelled through it in a couple of hours, not leaving the book with anything new or learned, but still enjoying the sojourn into these people's evening conversation.

If you've already read this and liked it, I'd suggest picking up Roth's "Deception," which is similar in form and tone, but richer in character and circumstance.

Nicholson Baker deserved credit for trying something a bit new in his freshman outing, The Mezzanine. Everyday objects and events may appear mundane, but that is simply because we don't look at them with enough attention and imagination.
This time around he applies the same formula to sex. Actually, he applies it to the idea/concept of sex; the book is a transcript of a telephone conversation between Jim and Abby, and the two characters never meet. Vox is an interesting an amusing read, entertaining in a voyeuristic sort of way, and occasionally insightful. This isn't a novel in the conventional sense; it by design lacks elements such as plot and significant character development. Vox is more of an experiment in writing.
Largely, it's an experiment that works. The narrative has a believable rhythm that allows the reader to eavesdrop on this couple as they fantasize and tell stories. The book's sexual imagery is tame enough that it shouldn't scandalize many readers. Its eroticism arises mainly from watching these two strangers take risks by making themselves vulnerable to each other.
The book's primary flaw is that Baker doesn't do a particularly convincing job of creating new characters. Both Jim and Abby are largely indistinguishable from the narrator of the Mezzanine; both of them are Nicholson Baker clones. They're so similar that, at any point in time, it is fairly easy to lose track of who is speaking. No wonder they hit it off so well.
Vox is a fun, forgettable book that should appeal to the voyeur in most readers. A quick read.

A remarkably sensitive and erotic dialogue between two people jumping into the abyss of pre-Internet phone communication, distant, far apart voices reaching out, touching each other, touching themselves. Only Nicholson Baker, possibly the best American writer today, can write a 30-page sex scene and keep you there until the end. You'll read this one all at once, in bed, preferably.

Bought this to see what all the hullabaloo was about.