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Humpty Dumpty In Oakland
Set in the San Francisco Bay area in the late 1950s, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is a tragicomedy of misunderstandings among used car dealers and real-estate salesmen: the small-time, struggling individuals for whom Philip K. Dick always reserved his greatest sympathy.
Jim Fergesson, an elderly garage owner with a heart condition, is about to sell up and retire; Al Miller is a somewhat feckless mechanic who sublets part of Jim's lot and finds his livelihood threatened by the decision to sell; Chris Harman is a record company owner who for years has relied on Fergesson to maintain his cars. When Harman hears of Fergesson's impending retirement he tips him off to what he says is a cast-iron business proposition: a development in nearby Marin County with an opening for a garage. Al Miller, though, is convinced that Harman is a crook, out to fleece Fergesson of his life's savings. As much as he resents Fergesson he can't bear to see that happen and - denying to himself all the time what he is doing - he sets out to thwart Harman.
260 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1986
25 people are currently reading
1030 people want to read
About the author
Philip K. Dick
2,006 books22.4k followersPhilip Kindred Dick was a prolific American science fiction author whose work has had a lasting impact on literature, cinema, and popular culture. Known for his imaginative narratives and profound philosophical themes, Dick explored the nature of reality, the boundaries of human identity, and the impact of technology and authoritarianism on society. His stories often blurred the line between the real and the artificial, challenging readers to question their perceptions and beliefs.
Raised in California, Dick began writing professionally in the early 1950s, publishing short stories in various science fiction magazines. He quickly developed a distinctive voice within the genre, marked by a fusion of science fiction concepts with deep existential and psychological inquiry. Over his career, he authored 44 novels and more than 100 short stories, many of which have become classics in the field.
Recurring themes in Dick's work include alternate realities, simulations, corporate and government control, mental illness, and the nature of consciousness. His protagonists are frequently everyday individuals—often paranoid, uncertain, or troubled—caught in surreal and often dangerous circumstances that force them to question their environment and themselves. Works such as Ubik, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, and A Scanner Darkly reflect his fascination with perception and altered states of consciousness, often drawing from his own experiences with mental health struggles and drug use.
One of Dick’s most influential novels is Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, which served as the basis for Ridley Scott’s iconic film Blade Runner. The novel deals with the distinction between humans and artificial beings and asks profound questions about empathy, identity, and what it means to be alive. Other adaptations of his work include Total Recall, Minority Report, A Scanner Darkly, and The Man in the High Castle, each reflecting key elements of his storytelling—uncertain realities, oppressive systems, and the search for truth. These adaptations have introduced his complex ideas to audiences well beyond the traditional readership of science fiction.
In the 1970s, Dick underwent a series of visionary and mystical experiences that had a significant influence on his later writings. He described receiving profound knowledge from an external, possibly divine, source and documented these events extensively in what became known as The Exegesis, a massive and often fragmented journal. These experiences inspired his later novels, most notably the VALIS trilogy, which mixes autobiography, theology, and metaphysics in a narrative that defies conventional structure and genre boundaries.
Throughout his life, Dick faced financial instability, health issues, and periods of personal turmoil, yet he remained a dedicated and relentless writer. Despite limited commercial success during his lifetime, his reputation grew steadily, and he came to be regarded as one of the most original voices in speculative fiction. His work has been celebrated for its ability to fuse philosophical depth with gripping storytelling and has influenced not only science fiction writers but also philosophers, filmmakers, and futurists.
Dick’s legacy continues to thrive in both literary and cinematic spheres. The themes he explored remain urgently relevant in the modern world, particularly as technology increasingly intersects with human identity and governance. The Philip K. Dick Award, named in his honor, is presented annually to distinguished works of science fiction published in paperback original form in the United States. His writings have also inspired television series, academic studies, and countless homages across media.
Through his vivid imagination and unflinching inquiry into the nature of existence, Philip K. Dick redefined what science fiction could achieve. His work continues to challenge and inspire, offering timeless insights into the human condition a
Raised in California, Dick began writing professionally in the early 1950s, publishing short stories in various science fiction magazines. He quickly developed a distinctive voice within the genre, marked by a fusion of science fiction concepts with deep existential and psychological inquiry. Over his career, he authored 44 novels and more than 100 short stories, many of which have become classics in the field.
Recurring themes in Dick's work include alternate realities, simulations, corporate and government control, mental illness, and the nature of consciousness. His protagonists are frequently everyday individuals—often paranoid, uncertain, or troubled—caught in surreal and often dangerous circumstances that force them to question their environment and themselves. Works such as Ubik, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, and A Scanner Darkly reflect his fascination with perception and altered states of consciousness, often drawing from his own experiences with mental health struggles and drug use.
One of Dick’s most influential novels is Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, which served as the basis for Ridley Scott’s iconic film Blade Runner. The novel deals with the distinction between humans and artificial beings and asks profound questions about empathy, identity, and what it means to be alive. Other adaptations of his work include Total Recall, Minority Report, A Scanner Darkly, and The Man in the High Castle, each reflecting key elements of his storytelling—uncertain realities, oppressive systems, and the search for truth. These adaptations have introduced his complex ideas to audiences well beyond the traditional readership of science fiction.
In the 1970s, Dick underwent a series of visionary and mystical experiences that had a significant influence on his later writings. He described receiving profound knowledge from an external, possibly divine, source and documented these events extensively in what became known as The Exegesis, a massive and often fragmented journal. These experiences inspired his later novels, most notably the VALIS trilogy, which mixes autobiography, theology, and metaphysics in a narrative that defies conventional structure and genre boundaries.
Throughout his life, Dick faced financial instability, health issues, and periods of personal turmoil, yet he remained a dedicated and relentless writer. Despite limited commercial success during his lifetime, his reputation grew steadily, and he came to be regarded as one of the most original voices in speculative fiction. His work has been celebrated for its ability to fuse philosophical depth with gripping storytelling and has influenced not only science fiction writers but also philosophers, filmmakers, and futurists.
Dick’s legacy continues to thrive in both literary and cinematic spheres. The themes he explored remain urgently relevant in the modern world, particularly as technology increasingly intersects with human identity and governance. The Philip K. Dick Award, named in his honor, is presented annually to distinguished works of science fiction published in paperback original form in the United States. His writings have also inspired television series, academic studies, and countless homages across media.
Through his vivid imagination and unflinching inquiry into the nature of existence, Philip K. Dick redefined what science fiction could achieve. His work continues to challenge and inspire, offering timeless insights into the human condition a
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February 22, 2023
Writing in the 1950s, did Philip K. Dick really anticipate the Gregorian chant music could be popular? Yes he did.
I’ve said it before, unfortunately, I will likely say it again, why, why, why was he not more popular in his own time?
“You nothing but ditch water walking around on two feet.”
Poetry.
A reader, a PKD fan, cannot read Humpty Dumpty in Oakland without comparing this work to Confessions of a Crap Artist, his 1975 non-science fiction publication, originally written in 1959. Like Confessions, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was a realistic, non-science fiction novel written earlier (1960), rejected by publishers, and then kept on the shelves. Unlike Confessions, Humpty was not published until after his death.
Dick describes a situation where Jim Fergusson, a retiring garage owner with a bad heart, conflicts with his long time friend and business associate, used car salesman, Al Miller. Along the way the reader meets a smooth talking dirty record producer, a barbershop quartet aficionado, a jazzy realtor, a matronly health food store clerk, and a cultured Greek housewife.
Whether it is absurdist sci-fi musing or a realistic 1960s existentialist urban drama it is the little guy in society, going it alone against an uncaring universe that gets Phil’s attention. One of his ex-wives commented that his novels were a surrealistic autobiography. And on the streets of Oakland, is Al Miller that different from Dick? Struggling, striving, always a paycheck away from disaster? Yet intensely individualistic and deigning to “join the crowd” only reluctantly and half-heartedly. There are no simulacra or slug-like aliens in this narrative, but common PKD themes such as isolation, paranoia, elitist class structure, unreliable hallucination and stark spiritual and cultural ennui are evident.
Some critics have called Dick a post-modernist and at first glance I would agree. But Humpty Dumpty in Oakland, again written in 1960, makes me wonder if he was not on to something completely different. Reading his science fiction canon, the predominant bulk of his work, it is easy to slap labels on his intelligent but frequently wacky designs. His more somber theological musings would only come later with the VALIS series.
But Humpty, like Confessions, marks PKD as a deeply introspective writer of his times, not just a rejectionist of earlier structure (post-modern). Phil was tuned into his time, the 50s, 60s and 70s – he was a canary in the coalmine for our society up to this point. A careful student will also note that much of his “future” was close ahead and much of what he wrote as future has already come and gone.
A modern reader may also look at HDIO and wonder about whether Dick was racist. No doubt if this were published in 2014, his references to “Negro” and “Asian” and other ethnic statements would bring this criticism, but I think these were more of a sign of the times than an internal bigotry. A more careful examination will reveal that Al had a very close relationship, even an empathy with his African-American neighbors and customers. His dynamic relationship with Mrs. Lane bears closer scrutiny, but here also, Dick was well ahead of his times.
A decidedly different sample of his writing, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland, like Confessions of a Crap Artist further demonstrates the great depth and amazingly adept and erudite talent of one of our finest American writers of the twentieth century.
**** 2023 reread -
This is one of the “realist” novels that Phil wrote mainly in the 50s, trying to publish some non-SF work. This novel was rejected by publishers during his lifetime but was first published after his death in 1986.
This time I again picked up on the similarities between his writing and Steinbeck and this would be very relevant today for a reader to explore race relations in the 50s, especially as it pertained to the Bay Area, but Dick was also an observant chronicler of his time nationwide.
Present in this work are many ubiquitous themes in his writing, even without telepathic slime molds or androids, like paranoia, depression, anxiety, and a pathological self destructiveness that is here all the more telling because of the realistic setting. Blue collar themes and attitudes were important to PKD and this is a wonderful book about small time workers who want better for themselves and their family but who don’t always go about their ambitions with the best direction.
Phil’s characterization is always good and the dynamic interactions between Al Miller and Jim Ferguson were mesmerizing.
Also we see another example of the PKD “Joe Fixit” character. No, this is not a smaller, grayer Hulk, but rather a an impressive, accomplished leader of men who serves as an instrument of deus ex machina. Fans of PKD will know what I’m talking about as there are several of his books where we see this archetypal character.
I also paid more attention to, and very much enjoyed, Dick’s portrayal of several African-American characters and like Faulkner, what may seem in a cursory examination to be casual racism, is upon closer scrutiny, hyperbole for effect and we can note that Phil’s sentimentalities actually align with this community. Mrs. Lane was an intriguing character, but this time I really enjoyed reading about Tooty Doolittle. Tooty was the one who stated the “ditchwater walking” quote I referenced above and quietly stole several scenes.
A better novel than expected and should be on a list to read for all PKD fans.
I’ve said it before, unfortunately, I will likely say it again, why, why, why was he not more popular in his own time?
“You nothing but ditch water walking around on two feet.”
Poetry.
A reader, a PKD fan, cannot read Humpty Dumpty in Oakland without comparing this work to Confessions of a Crap Artist, his 1975 non-science fiction publication, originally written in 1959. Like Confessions, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was a realistic, non-science fiction novel written earlier (1960), rejected by publishers, and then kept on the shelves. Unlike Confessions, Humpty was not published until after his death.
Dick describes a situation where Jim Fergusson, a retiring garage owner with a bad heart, conflicts with his long time friend and business associate, used car salesman, Al Miller. Along the way the reader meets a smooth talking dirty record producer, a barbershop quartet aficionado, a jazzy realtor, a matronly health food store clerk, and a cultured Greek housewife.
Whether it is absurdist sci-fi musing or a realistic 1960s existentialist urban drama it is the little guy in society, going it alone against an uncaring universe that gets Phil’s attention. One of his ex-wives commented that his novels were a surrealistic autobiography. And on the streets of Oakland, is Al Miller that different from Dick? Struggling, striving, always a paycheck away from disaster? Yet intensely individualistic and deigning to “join the crowd” only reluctantly and half-heartedly. There are no simulacra or slug-like aliens in this narrative, but common PKD themes such as isolation, paranoia, elitist class structure, unreliable hallucination and stark spiritual and cultural ennui are evident.
Some critics have called Dick a post-modernist and at first glance I would agree. But Humpty Dumpty in Oakland, again written in 1960, makes me wonder if he was not on to something completely different. Reading his science fiction canon, the predominant bulk of his work, it is easy to slap labels on his intelligent but frequently wacky designs. His more somber theological musings would only come later with the VALIS series.
But Humpty, like Confessions, marks PKD as a deeply introspective writer of his times, not just a rejectionist of earlier structure (post-modern). Phil was tuned into his time, the 50s, 60s and 70s – he was a canary in the coalmine for our society up to this point. A careful student will also note that much of his “future” was close ahead and much of what he wrote as future has already come and gone.
A modern reader may also look at HDIO and wonder about whether Dick was racist. No doubt if this were published in 2014, his references to “Negro” and “Asian” and other ethnic statements would bring this criticism, but I think these were more of a sign of the times than an internal bigotry. A more careful examination will reveal that Al had a very close relationship, even an empathy with his African-American neighbors and customers. His dynamic relationship with Mrs. Lane bears closer scrutiny, but here also, Dick was well ahead of his times.
A decidedly different sample of his writing, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland, like Confessions of a Crap Artist further demonstrates the great depth and amazingly adept and erudite talent of one of our finest American writers of the twentieth century.
**** 2023 reread -
This is one of the “realist” novels that Phil wrote mainly in the 50s, trying to publish some non-SF work. This novel was rejected by publishers during his lifetime but was first published after his death in 1986.
This time I again picked up on the similarities between his writing and Steinbeck and this would be very relevant today for a reader to explore race relations in the 50s, especially as it pertained to the Bay Area, but Dick was also an observant chronicler of his time nationwide.
Present in this work are many ubiquitous themes in his writing, even without telepathic slime molds or androids, like paranoia, depression, anxiety, and a pathological self destructiveness that is here all the more telling because of the realistic setting. Blue collar themes and attitudes were important to PKD and this is a wonderful book about small time workers who want better for themselves and their family but who don’t always go about their ambitions with the best direction.
Phil’s characterization is always good and the dynamic interactions between Al Miller and Jim Ferguson were mesmerizing.
Also we see another example of the PKD “Joe Fixit” character. No, this is not a smaller, grayer Hulk, but rather a an impressive, accomplished leader of men who serves as an instrument of deus ex machina. Fans of PKD will know what I’m talking about as there are several of his books where we see this archetypal character.
I also paid more attention to, and very much enjoyed, Dick’s portrayal of several African-American characters and like Faulkner, what may seem in a cursory examination to be casual racism, is upon closer scrutiny, hyperbole for effect and we can note that Phil’s sentimentalities actually align with this community. Mrs. Lane was an intriguing character, but this time I really enjoyed reading about Tooty Doolittle. Tooty was the one who stated the “ditchwater walking” quote I referenced above and quietly stole several scenes.
A better novel than expected and should be on a list to read for all PKD fans.
February 20, 2009
i tend to distrust these non-sci-fi pkd books, if only because everyone acts like they legitimize him as a writer. as though he needed to be legitimized. fuck you. but this book really is wonderful. and it draws attention to what have always been some of his strongest points: the absolute emotional reality of his down and out characters, and the absolute insanity of all the worlds they live in.
i cried pretty much non-stop for the last third of this book. it might be one of my favorite books yet. and surprise surprise, philip k. dick wrote it! nobody coulda knowned it.
you should read it. you might like it. who knows.
i cried pretty much non-stop for the last third of this book. it might be one of my favorite books yet. and surprise surprise, philip k. dick wrote it! nobody coulda knowned it.
you should read it. you might like it. who knows.
November 17, 2014
my first non-science fiction PKD read and I'm fairly impressed. This is a tragicomedy that follows the pathetic business lives and personal relationships (largely with their always critical wives who own some pathetic themselves).
I was at once reminded of Arthur Miller's Willy Loman from Death of a Salesman and enjoyed how the wishful thinking of the characters would bring their absurd fantasies into their own reality
I was at once reminded of Arthur Miller's Willy Loman from Death of a Salesman and enjoyed how the wishful thinking of the characters would bring their absurd fantasies into their own reality
October 22, 2008
Although Humpty Dumpty in Oakland isn't one of PKD's science fiction novels, it has enough of the author's signature paranoia that I almost didn't notice. However, I didn't enjoy it anywhere near as much as his other books. Usually I like the craziness that the paranoia causes, but this time I was just annoyed with the two main characters and wanted to slap them around until they noticed reality.
January 23, 2016
I wrote a scathing review of this on my iPod when I was 94 pages in— it turns out, you can't judge a PKD book by the first 94 pages.
Here is that review:
…while I don't disagree with my initial reaction, it's really not that bad of a book.
Nonetheless, those are some bad 94 pages. As soon as I got to that point, I read the remaining 158 pages in one afternoon. When you strip PKD of his scifi, his strengths and weaknesses become much clearer to see. His introductions and scene setting are absolutely awful, but as soon as he's done with that, he's capable of making gripping and interesting plots, conflicts, and characters, even with the most boring of premises (and let's face it, this book doesn't have the most thrilling premise).
There are some issues with writing on a smaller scale. As I said before, Fergusson is constantly referred to as "the old man," and way too many plot-irrelevent things are described (including bathrooms visits!). PKD attempts to write "Negro" dialect, which is often humorously bad ("'I don't know whom them is.'" p. 214), but I admittedly don't know if this is just how the dialect used to sound in the late 50's, or if PKD is just really bad at imitating it. PKD really, really knows his homestate well, and gets a little overexcited to describe it all, ignoring the fact that no non-native will get anything out of his endless banter about trashy rural cities and freeway construction.
Contrary to consensus, things do happen. There's a fully formed plot about the downfall of two very crooked, mean-spirited businessmen. The thing is, they just aren't very important things. The plot is taken care of, but there's no important message underlying anything. At the end of the day, it's another PKD book under your belt. But not a bad one.
Here is that review:
…while I don't disagree with my initial reaction, it's really not that bad of a book.
Nonetheless, those are some bad 94 pages. As soon as I got to that point, I read the remaining 158 pages in one afternoon. When you strip PKD of his scifi, his strengths and weaknesses become much clearer to see. His introductions and scene setting are absolutely awful, but as soon as he's done with that, he's capable of making gripping and interesting plots, conflicts, and characters, even with the most boring of premises (and let's face it, this book doesn't have the most thrilling premise).
There are some issues with writing on a smaller scale. As I said before, Fergusson is constantly referred to as "the old man," and way too many plot-irrelevent things are described (including bathrooms visits!). PKD attempts to write "Negro" dialect, which is often humorously bad ("'I don't know whom them is.'" p. 214), but I admittedly don't know if this is just how the dialect used to sound in the late 50's, or if PKD is just really bad at imitating it. PKD really, really knows his homestate well, and gets a little overexcited to describe it all, ignoring the fact that no non-native will get anything out of his endless banter about trashy rural cities and freeway construction.
Contrary to consensus, things do happen. There's a fully formed plot about the downfall of two very crooked, mean-spirited businessmen. The thing is, they just aren't very important things. The plot is taken care of, but there's no important message underlying anything. At the end of the day, it's another PKD book under your belt. But not a bad one.
October 2, 2023
I have at this point read so many of these PKD non-science fiction novels that they all blur together in my mind. They were generally written before he found popularity as a sci-fi novelist and usually went unpublished in his lifetime, with the exception of Confessions of a Crap Artist, which is by far the best of the lot.
In my view, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is one of the lesser novels in this already lesser collection. The trademark PKD weirdness is mostly lacking as we follow around characters who are mainly interested in their business prospects. We have a car salesman, a car repair shop owner, a real estate agent, a local big-shot investor, etc. You can of course write an interesting novel about anything, and these subjects are not inherently unworthy of having their stories told, but PKD never achieves critical velocity that makes a reader really care about any of them as specific individuals.
A book like Revolutionary Road tells this same kind of story with verve and great emotion. In too many of PKD's work of this kind, the story itself comes to reflect the dispiriting sameness and dreariness of the lives of the characters. In the same way that their lives have an aimless, barely caring, going-nowhere quality, so does the book that chronicles their little movements.
This one went unpublished for a reason and it would have been for the best to let it stay that way.
In my view, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is one of the lesser novels in this already lesser collection. The trademark PKD weirdness is mostly lacking as we follow around characters who are mainly interested in their business prospects. We have a car salesman, a car repair shop owner, a real estate agent, a local big-shot investor, etc. You can of course write an interesting novel about anything, and these subjects are not inherently unworthy of having their stories told, but PKD never achieves critical velocity that makes a reader really care about any of them as specific individuals.
A book like Revolutionary Road tells this same kind of story with verve and great emotion. In too many of PKD's work of this kind, the story itself comes to reflect the dispiriting sameness and dreariness of the lives of the characters. In the same way that their lives have an aimless, barely caring, going-nowhere quality, so does the book that chronicles their little movements.
This one went unpublished for a reason and it would have been for the best to let it stay that way.
October 12, 2025
For me, Phillip K. Dick's Humpty Dumpty in Oakland reflects on the crushing weight of capitalism on all but ruling class. The story centers three men who represent three levels of a capitalistic society: the proletarian (Al Miller), the petty bourgeoisie (Jim Fergusson), and the bourgeoisie (Chris Harman). Al as no control; his life is dictated by the decisions of his landlord (Jim) and his new boss (Harman). Becoming a cog in the machine leads him to become insecure, paranoid, and suicidal. Jim has a small business but wants to make it big. However, the world of enterprise is moving too fast for him and he struggles to find connection with anyone or anything. He becomes increasingly alienated and mistrusting, and his health suffers as a result. Harman is not a POV character, so this leaves his character more mysterious. He is undoubtedly manipulative with questionable motives, and his position in the capitalist class leaves him the only winner in this novel.
December 15, 2015
I don’t always like what PKD writes about. But I like how he tells it. I’ve been reading his non-scifi books lately, this is the fifth of nine that were eventually published posthumously (there are apparently others, but PKD seemed to have the odd habit of losing manuscripts.)
Humpty Dumpty was the last of his effort at nonfiction. Written in 1959, just before he got going with "The Man in The High Castle", which won him a Hugo. I guess after that one, he decided to stick with scifi.
Of the few non-genre novels from PKD I’ve read so far, I liked this one the least. It has all the PKD working man aesthetics, his weird real-world take on things (‘tis why even his non-scifi reads as if it was scifi - A. E. van Vogt attempted a non-genre with “The Violent Man” written around the same time as Humpty Dumpty was, and it had the same effect: So bizarre that it might as well have been set in the future or on an alien planet). In this one, present is the usual PKD interesting ‘average’ middle-class characters: A 58-year-old man named Jim Fergesson who decides to sell his Oakland-based auto repair business to retire, due to poor health. Al Miller rents Fergesson’s lot to run a used car lot stocked with reconditioned jalopies: He cleans and paints them, but does little mechanically. He even ‘regrooves’ the balding tires - this being an actual occupation in the later novel “Our Friends from Frolix 8”. And Chris Harmon is an entrepreneur dealing primarily in the record business. He advises Fergesson to invest in a new super-garage located in a new subdivision being erected in Marin Country Gardens. The sub-characters are also as entertaining, I especially liked the African-american community that Al Miller is associated with.
PKD’s appreciation of sound and music plays a small role here. Most interesting is the suggestion that electronic barber-shop might be the next big thing... See, better suited for scifi.
The end part turned to a mix of paranoia as Al Miller has to decide whether following events (I won’t list in order not to spoil) are coincidence or malicious acts committed against him.
The novel, however, seemed to just end. I wanted more from it.
For the cover of my edition, they should have had the front end of a '32 Marmon https://ericseibert.files.wordpress.c... rather than a '58 Edsel.
Humpty Dumpty was the last of his effort at nonfiction. Written in 1959, just before he got going with "The Man in The High Castle", which won him a Hugo. I guess after that one, he decided to stick with scifi.
Of the few non-genre novels from PKD I’ve read so far, I liked this one the least. It has all the PKD working man aesthetics, his weird real-world take on things (‘tis why even his non-scifi reads as if it was scifi - A. E. van Vogt attempted a non-genre with “The Violent Man” written around the same time as Humpty Dumpty was, and it had the same effect: So bizarre that it might as well have been set in the future or on an alien planet). In this one, present is the usual PKD interesting ‘average’ middle-class characters: A 58-year-old man named Jim Fergesson who decides to sell his Oakland-based auto repair business to retire, due to poor health. Al Miller rents Fergesson’s lot to run a used car lot stocked with reconditioned jalopies: He cleans and paints them, but does little mechanically. He even ‘regrooves’ the balding tires - this being an actual occupation in the later novel “Our Friends from Frolix 8”. And Chris Harmon is an entrepreneur dealing primarily in the record business. He advises Fergesson to invest in a new super-garage located in a new subdivision being erected in Marin Country Gardens. The sub-characters are also as entertaining, I especially liked the African-american community that Al Miller is associated with.
PKD’s appreciation of sound and music plays a small role here. Most interesting is the suggestion that electronic barber-shop might be the next big thing... See, better suited for scifi.
The end part turned to a mix of paranoia as Al Miller has to decide whether following events (I won’t list in order not to spoil) are coincidence or malicious acts committed against him.
The novel, however, seemed to just end. I wanted more from it.
For the cover of my edition, they should have had the front end of a '32 Marmon https://ericseibert.files.wordpress.c... rather than a '58 Edsel.
March 21, 2013
I do not like giving one star reviews and I really do not like giving one star reviews to authors whose work I generally love but in this case I feel I must.
Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was one of Dick's realistic fiction novels, most of which went unpublished in his lifetime. Posthumously published novels by famous authors should always be a warning to readers. When Dick tried to publish this novel it was dubbed "incoherent" by the publisher and it really isn't hard to see why. Like all of Dick's work is proceeds on the premise that everybody lives in their own version of reality but because it contains no plot of stylistic elements that make this clear anybody reading this who is not intimately familiar with Dick going in is going to be confused.
This is not the only problem with the book. Al Miller is not a likeable protagonist, and some people who do not like this book will use that as their reason. I do not require a likeable protagonist. In fact, I don't mind if the main character is an outright cad. I do not need to sympathize or like what the main character is doing. what I do need is to understand what he is doing. Miller seems to be mentally ill, like the narrator of other Dick works including another realistic novel Confessions of a Crap Artist. Unfortunately, my reasons for assuming this comes solely from the facts that nothing else could possibly explain his behavior. In fact, Jim Ferguson also acts like a mentally ill person and while other characters do not seem as crazy, I think nearly every character in the novel does at least one thing where I do not have a clear idea of what motivated them to behave in such a bizarre way. I understood all the characters in Confessions of a Crap Artist even though they all acted crazy as well.
I really wanted to give this book two stars but I can't bring myself to do it. There are two good things in the book. The first is some of the questions about race that Dick brings up but they go nowhere and Dick's use of "negro dialect" is awful. The second thing is a conversation about luck that is one of those great philosophical conversations that sound like real every day conversations that Dick is so good at writing. Neither of these is enough to make me give the book one more star.
Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was one of Dick's realistic fiction novels, most of which went unpublished in his lifetime. Posthumously published novels by famous authors should always be a warning to readers. When Dick tried to publish this novel it was dubbed "incoherent" by the publisher and it really isn't hard to see why. Like all of Dick's work is proceeds on the premise that everybody lives in their own version of reality but because it contains no plot of stylistic elements that make this clear anybody reading this who is not intimately familiar with Dick going in is going to be confused.
This is not the only problem with the book. Al Miller is not a likeable protagonist, and some people who do not like this book will use that as their reason. I do not require a likeable protagonist. In fact, I don't mind if the main character is an outright cad. I do not need to sympathize or like what the main character is doing. what I do need is to understand what he is doing. Miller seems to be mentally ill, like the narrator of other Dick works including another realistic novel Confessions of a Crap Artist. Unfortunately, my reasons for assuming this comes solely from the facts that nothing else could possibly explain his behavior. In fact, Jim Ferguson also acts like a mentally ill person and while other characters do not seem as crazy, I think nearly every character in the novel does at least one thing where I do not have a clear idea of what motivated them to behave in such a bizarre way. I understood all the characters in Confessions of a Crap Artist even though they all acted crazy as well.
I really wanted to give this book two stars but I can't bring myself to do it. There are two good things in the book. The first is some of the questions about race that Dick brings up but they go nowhere and Dick's use of "negro dialect" is awful. The second thing is a conversation about luck that is one of those great philosophical conversations that sound like real every day conversations that Dick is so good at writing. Neither of these is enough to make me give the book one more star.
March 9, 2014
Honestly, if the cars in this novel were flying or hovering cars and the year was 2060 instead of 1960 this novel would be indistinguishable from a lot of PKD's science fiction. It is the same sort of thing, which is why I don't understand some of the negative reviews on GoodReads by PKD fans (but I am also baffled by the guy who said he was crying for the last third of the book--that makes so little sense I am concerned for him).
The "nothing happens" complaint is also very peculiar: I assume these reviewers are unfamiliar with traditional literature as Humpty Dumpty in Oakland has a definite unavoidable plot to it.
Is the ending ambiguous? Yes, definitely, I am sure you're not supposed to be sure whether the bad guys were actually bad guys or if the good guys were actually good guys. In this way I think the novel is sort of genius: it is about the uncertainty the modern man has to live with on a daily basis in his dealings with other men; he lives with the knowledge that his internal evilness is undoubtedly present in all other men, even women probably, and is forever wondering if he should be guarded against it.
It's also weird to read the PKD writing style in a literary novel, especially after reading a lot of other 1940-1960 literature that has a more "traditional" feel versus PKD's kinetic and stream-of-consciousness style of writing. I got used to it about 80 pages in.
Honestly, there's just a lot to like here, but the sum of its parts is greater than the whole: this is not by any means a "great novel", but much like everything else by PKD, it is the strength of the ideas, of what he is trying to get across, of the small flourishes of genius, that reside within and elevates it to a "pretty good novel". Besides, it's a very quick read, so there's no reason not to plow through it just to see.
The "nothing happens" complaint is also very peculiar: I assume these reviewers are unfamiliar with traditional literature as Humpty Dumpty in Oakland has a definite unavoidable plot to it.
Is the ending ambiguous? Yes, definitely, I am sure you're not supposed to be sure whether the bad guys were actually bad guys or if the good guys were actually good guys. In this way I think the novel is sort of genius: it is about the uncertainty the modern man has to live with on a daily basis in his dealings with other men; he lives with the knowledge that his internal evilness is undoubtedly present in all other men, even women probably, and is forever wondering if he should be guarded against it.
It's also weird to read the PKD writing style in a literary novel, especially after reading a lot of other 1940-1960 literature that has a more "traditional" feel versus PKD's kinetic and stream-of-consciousness style of writing. I got used to it about 80 pages in.
Honestly, there's just a lot to like here, but the sum of its parts is greater than the whole: this is not by any means a "great novel", but much like everything else by PKD, it is the strength of the ideas, of what he is trying to get across, of the small flourishes of genius, that reside within and elevates it to a "pretty good novel". Besides, it's a very quick read, so there's no reason not to plow through it just to see.
December 30, 2014
It's a testament to Dick's writing powers that a story about a crotchety old man and a total bullshitter was never boring. It is also interesting to read a non-science fiction book by one of the genre's masters. You can see the types of everyday things that inspired him to stretch his imagination. The characters are real despicable people, but the book is short enough and contains enough introspection to make it readable and even enjoyable.
The California setting evoked Raymond Chandler, the neuroses Kafka, just like the dust-jacket described. The writing style is really fluid and easy to read. It takes a good look at what holds many people back, namely a bad attitude; and how that cynicism, that refusal to deal with life's big questions, can lead one down a road to nowhere.
Overall, a nice in-between book, but I imagine you can find one of his sci-fi books that does the same thing better.
The California setting evoked Raymond Chandler, the neuroses Kafka, just like the dust-jacket described. The writing style is really fluid and easy to read. It takes a good look at what holds many people back, namely a bad attitude; and how that cynicism, that refusal to deal with life's big questions, can lead one down a road to nowhere.
Overall, a nice in-between book, but I imagine you can find one of his sci-fi books that does the same thing better.
July 23, 2016
Nice tragicomic, not SF novel, from the SF guru. Once you get used to the racial characterizations from the era, you take a peek at the existential drama of "ditch water walking around on two feet" who are "hiding from life" or "looking at life through a tiny hole" in a hostile environment trying to make ends meet with the help of chemical stimulants.
March 9, 2018
It amazes me that Dick wasn't able to get any of his realist novels published before he made it in sci-fi. Maybe I just don't read enough literary fiction to recognize quality, but this book was phenomenal in my eyes.
August 25, 2017
A good read. not as enjoyable for me as Philip K. Dick usually is
October 25, 2017
I knew I should have put it down half way through when it got tedious and boring. What a singular waste of time.
March 12, 2024
Weird and wonderful
May 28, 2025
Read for Podcast prep. Not terrible, not great. Plenty to talk about.
September 16, 2017
I can't say that I enjoyed this novel. But there is a lot going on: the fine-grained structure of the white working class, the anxiety and paranoia surrounding their relations with the upper class (it's P.K. Dick; could there not be paranoia?), and carefully portrayed friendships and tensions with blacks. It's about people who aren't quite down and out, but who next month are probably going to be downer and outer. Even though this book was written over 50 years ago, you could do worse than to put it in the context of modern class politics.
Humpty Dumpty is one of Dick's posthumously published non-SciFi novels. And there's a good SciFi metaphor for thinking about it. It's all about escape velocity. How do you get out of your current situation and into something better? How do you build a future for yourself? Jim is a older auto mechanic and garage owner; I can't figure out just how old, but I'd guess somewhat younger than he seems. 50s, probably. He's sold his garage for $30,000 (roughly $300,000 in today's dollars), which seems like a fortune. And the wealthy but shady Mr. Harman is encouraging him to invest it in a new garage that's part of a huge suburban development up in Marin County, where he'd be the boss, not the mechanic, where he'd sit in an office, collect the payments, and give his failing heart a rest.
Al is a used car salesman; he rents his lot from Jim, who also helps getting his rotten cars in working order. Jim's sale promises an end to his dead-end career. Al is also offered a job by the shady Mr. Harman (first, selling classical music, about which he knows nothing; the second, finding horrible barbershop quartet acts, about which he also knows nothing). The money is good, but is this all on the level? Harman apparently made and distributed pornographic records earlier in this career. When this all comes tumbling down, Al tries to leave town with his wife; he gets somewhat further than Vegas, but is pulled back by legal problems. And possibly by Harman, who offers him yet another job.
Is Harman on the level, or is he a world-class con artist? Jim's shady lawyer thinks the Marin deal is on the level, but I see no reason to trust his legal opinion. These strange record company jobs dangled in front of Al: what are they about? Harman has his own paranoia (of the "we don't know who's after us, or why, but they are" variety). We don't know about Harman, we'll never know, we're not supposed to know. It's never clear what he has to gain by taking Al under his wing; if Harman is a successful con man, and sees Al as a potential partner, he should also realize that Al is really bad at playing the con game. But whatever he is, he opens up the split between Jim (property owner) and Al (renter); and between Al and his black friends, who seem to have better instincts for dealing with scammers; and between Jim and Al and their wives, who have the appearance (at least) of some education and upward mobility.
Regardless of Harman's business ethics, two things are clear. Shakespeare said it best: "As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport." As are Jim and Al, and everyone in their working class world, to the wealthy. It doesn't matter what the deal is; if you're playing with Harman, you're going to lose--possibly for no other reason than that he enjoys making you lose. Second, nobody in Al and Jim's working class world sees this; they're all sucked in by the glow of wealth. Jim is skeptical of Al's investment deal, but not so skeptical that he doesn't accept Harman's nonsensical job offers. The only one clear-sighted enough to see through this is Jim's real estate agent--a black woman who is only person who actually cares about him. But when the deal's going down, who are you going to believe in? A rich white guy or a black woman? Even though the Al's black friends are clearly better off than he is, they're by definition at the bottom of the class hierarchy. And the hierarchy is everything.
All Jim wants to do is retire and put his feet up. And all Al wants to do is make it to the next day. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. There are too many games in play, too many cross-cutting concerns. Harman is at the top of this food chain, and he's going to prosper, whatever else happens. Everyone else is at risk.
Humpty Dumpty is one of Dick's posthumously published non-SciFi novels. And there's a good SciFi metaphor for thinking about it. It's all about escape velocity. How do you get out of your current situation and into something better? How do you build a future for yourself? Jim is a older auto mechanic and garage owner; I can't figure out just how old, but I'd guess somewhat younger than he seems. 50s, probably. He's sold his garage for $30,000 (roughly $300,000 in today's dollars), which seems like a fortune. And the wealthy but shady Mr. Harman is encouraging him to invest it in a new garage that's part of a huge suburban development up in Marin County, where he'd be the boss, not the mechanic, where he'd sit in an office, collect the payments, and give his failing heart a rest.
Al is a used car salesman; he rents his lot from Jim, who also helps getting his rotten cars in working order. Jim's sale promises an end to his dead-end career. Al is also offered a job by the shady Mr. Harman (first, selling classical music, about which he knows nothing; the second, finding horrible barbershop quartet acts, about which he also knows nothing). The money is good, but is this all on the level? Harman apparently made and distributed pornographic records earlier in this career. When this all comes tumbling down, Al tries to leave town with his wife; he gets somewhat further than Vegas, but is pulled back by legal problems. And possibly by Harman, who offers him yet another job.
Is Harman on the level, or is he a world-class con artist? Jim's shady lawyer thinks the Marin deal is on the level, but I see no reason to trust his legal opinion. These strange record company jobs dangled in front of Al: what are they about? Harman has his own paranoia (of the "we don't know who's after us, or why, but they are" variety). We don't know about Harman, we'll never know, we're not supposed to know. It's never clear what he has to gain by taking Al under his wing; if Harman is a successful con man, and sees Al as a potential partner, he should also realize that Al is really bad at playing the con game. But whatever he is, he opens up the split between Jim (property owner) and Al (renter); and between Al and his black friends, who seem to have better instincts for dealing with scammers; and between Jim and Al and their wives, who have the appearance (at least) of some education and upward mobility.
Regardless of Harman's business ethics, two things are clear. Shakespeare said it best: "As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport." As are Jim and Al, and everyone in their working class world, to the wealthy. It doesn't matter what the deal is; if you're playing with Harman, you're going to lose--possibly for no other reason than that he enjoys making you lose. Second, nobody in Al and Jim's working class world sees this; they're all sucked in by the glow of wealth. Jim is skeptical of Al's investment deal, but not so skeptical that he doesn't accept Harman's nonsensical job offers. The only one clear-sighted enough to see through this is Jim's real estate agent--a black woman who is only person who actually cares about him. But when the deal's going down, who are you going to believe in? A rich white guy or a black woman? Even though the Al's black friends are clearly better off than he is, they're by definition at the bottom of the class hierarchy. And the hierarchy is everything.
All Jim wants to do is retire and put his feet up. And all Al wants to do is make it to the next day. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so. There are too many games in play, too many cross-cutting concerns. Harman is at the top of this food chain, and he's going to prosper, whatever else happens. Everyone else is at risk.
July 20, 2016
And so ends my reading of PKD's fiction. I have read it all now. This book is a fitting ending to my journey. It has all the things one can love about PKD without any sf in it. As with all the non-sf by him, it is better than at least half of his sf. He was right. I am convinced he was right, his publishers were wrong, and most of his readers are wrong. He wrote better realistic fiction than he did sf on a regular basis. I still like his sf better, at least his really good sf, but if I have to close my eyes and hope I get his best work and I have to pick from a pool of his sf or his non-sf, I am grabbing from the non-sf pile.
This novel stands out in that he really gets fully into the head of a much older character than he covered in other novels, and it's the head of a Nixon-lover. I like most of the earlier non-sf better than this because he gives the women very short shrift in this one. It does permit him to focus on the two main male characters, but I think he got his world across better when he let his women speak more. The Greek wife character in this book, based on his second (?) wife is hilarious, almost as funny as Lumky. She speaks in such a funny way, and I am betting it is just like his wife talked.
On to the only published work by him I have not read yet--THE EXEGESIS.
[UPDATE]
I just read some reviews by other GoodReads users. Ugh. I cannot believe people criticize this book because it does not have characters they like. Why are you reading PKD if you want characters you can like? You are reading the wrong thing. Some reviewers even talk about one of the characters being a protagonist, others about his plot structure, etc. You don't PKD if you are going to criticize him based on all the other fiction you have read. You just won't get it. This is why some see him as a genius (tortured, crazy, sometimes hateful, yes, but aren't most geniuses extreme in some way like this?). I don't agree with everything he seemed to propose. I don't feel comfortable when I read his fiction. I don't read PKD for any of the traditional reasons. I read him because he is not like other writers, he did not go to college, he did not adhere to the conventions of American fiction, or even any other country's fiction. I read him because his dialogue is unreal, because he has characters that contradict themselves, because he talks about things that make me feel alienated.
Anyway, not defending him. I came upon his writing in 1981 before BLADE RUNNER and all the other movies, before the entire world cast its gaze upon him. Before it was cool to like PKD. When it was not cool. I like him because his mental patterns match mine in his fiction. I don't always think about what his characters do, but I can tell by the way he narrates that I think like he did. Not the content--the process, the manner. This is why I read PKD and like his fiction. If he wrote a straight plot with likable characters and traditional polished narrative, I would probably not like him. If you need those things, seek elsewhere.
This novel stands out in that he really gets fully into the head of a much older character than he covered in other novels, and it's the head of a Nixon-lover. I like most of the earlier non-sf better than this because he gives the women very short shrift in this one. It does permit him to focus on the two main male characters, but I think he got his world across better when he let his women speak more. The Greek wife character in this book, based on his second (?) wife is hilarious, almost as funny as Lumky. She speaks in such a funny way, and I am betting it is just like his wife talked.
On to the only published work by him I have not read yet--THE EXEGESIS.
[UPDATE]
I just read some reviews by other GoodReads users. Ugh. I cannot believe people criticize this book because it does not have characters they like. Why are you reading PKD if you want characters you can like? You are reading the wrong thing. Some reviewers even talk about one of the characters being a protagonist, others about his plot structure, etc. You don't PKD if you are going to criticize him based on all the other fiction you have read. You just won't get it. This is why some see him as a genius (tortured, crazy, sometimes hateful, yes, but aren't most geniuses extreme in some way like this?). I don't agree with everything he seemed to propose. I don't feel comfortable when I read his fiction. I don't read PKD for any of the traditional reasons. I read him because he is not like other writers, he did not go to college, he did not adhere to the conventions of American fiction, or even any other country's fiction. I read him because his dialogue is unreal, because he has characters that contradict themselves, because he talks about things that make me feel alienated.
Anyway, not defending him. I came upon his writing in 1981 before BLADE RUNNER and all the other movies, before the entire world cast its gaze upon him. Before it was cool to like PKD. When it was not cool. I like him because his mental patterns match mine in his fiction. I don't always think about what his characters do, but I can tell by the way he narrates that I think like he did. Not the content--the process, the manner. This is why I read PKD and like his fiction. If he wrote a straight plot with likable characters and traditional polished narrative, I would probably not like him. If you need those things, seek elsewhere.
August 20, 2012
Humpty Dumpty in Oakland (Hardcover)
by Philip K. Dick
This reads like a Jim Thompson Black Lizard novel crossed with something by Charlie Bukowski. The main characters are so hapless (one is a young hopeless schmuck going nowhere fast while the other is an elderly hopeless schmuck who thinks he's doing very well), On the other hand, it lacks the straightforward criminal plot line of a book like The Grifters or The Killer Inside Me. The young guy takes a stab at committing a crime, but hasn't the moxie to follow through, and the person who really comes across as a master scammer really seems to be in the story to torment the two protagonists.
What gives it the Thompson feel is the fact that everybody in the book is on the make and greed seems to be the engine that drives the story. What I liked best about it, however, was the bleak descriptions of Oakland in the late 1950s. Since Oakland is the setting for some of my own fiction, I love seeing San Francisco's poor relation to the east get the limelight for a change.
I did note one weakness in the book from my perspective: Dick's dialog is fine when he has speeches from his main non-ethnic characters, but he is just off-target when he has one of the black characters in the story speak, or renders dialog from the elderly protagonist's Greek-born wife. It almost strikes me that Dick realizes these people have a slightly twisted syntax, but his ear isn't good enough to render it with verisimilitude.
by Philip K. Dick
This reads like a Jim Thompson Black Lizard novel crossed with something by Charlie Bukowski. The main characters are so hapless (one is a young hopeless schmuck going nowhere fast while the other is an elderly hopeless schmuck who thinks he's doing very well), On the other hand, it lacks the straightforward criminal plot line of a book like The Grifters or The Killer Inside Me. The young guy takes a stab at committing a crime, but hasn't the moxie to follow through, and the person who really comes across as a master scammer really seems to be in the story to torment the two protagonists.
What gives it the Thompson feel is the fact that everybody in the book is on the make and greed seems to be the engine that drives the story. What I liked best about it, however, was the bleak descriptions of Oakland in the late 1950s. Since Oakland is the setting for some of my own fiction, I love seeing San Francisco's poor relation to the east get the limelight for a change.
I did note one weakness in the book from my perspective: Dick's dialog is fine when he has speeches from his main non-ethnic characters, but he is just off-target when he has one of the black characters in the story speak, or renders dialog from the elderly protagonist's Greek-born wife. It almost strikes me that Dick realizes these people have a slightly twisted syntax, but his ear isn't good enough to render it with verisimilitude.
August 18, 2009
It's no secret that Dick longed to escape the genre-fiction straight -jacket and bask in the respect and success of being a literary writer. Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is part of a series of non-science fiction novels he wrote during the late '50s through to 1960, and while reading it it's easy to see why mainstream success alluded him.
First, the good: the book isn't bad, per se. It's written to the same prose-standard as any other Dick work, and passes easily enough. Which brings us to the bad: in there lies the problem; because it passes so fluidly, the fact that nothing really interesting happens, that events just flow past without raising much interest, means that you're quickly finished without having become engaged.
It may be a symptom of popular literature at the time, but it reminds me of other novels of the 1950s aimed squarely at the mainstream that also flowed simply past without engaging. But where books, like runaway-1950s-success The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit, spoke to the fears and insecurities particular to the nation at the time, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland does no such thing.
In the end it reads like Dick was merely going through a checklist for the popular-style, without really understanding what makes the style work.
First, the good: the book isn't bad, per se. It's written to the same prose-standard as any other Dick work, and passes easily enough. Which brings us to the bad: in there lies the problem; because it passes so fluidly, the fact that nothing really interesting happens, that events just flow past without raising much interest, means that you're quickly finished without having become engaged.
It may be a symptom of popular literature at the time, but it reminds me of other novels of the 1950s aimed squarely at the mainstream that also flowed simply past without engaging. But where books, like runaway-1950s-success The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit, spoke to the fears and insecurities particular to the nation at the time, Humpty Dumpty in Oakland does no such thing.
In the end it reads like Dick was merely going through a checklist for the popular-style, without really understanding what makes the style work.
February 11, 2013
This is the first book by Philip K. Dick that I have read and it is a tough one to rate. It's not a book with characters that you are meant to like (which, to be clear, is not necessary). The book has a very thin plot that seems to be more of a way to give further insight into the characters motives and reactions rather than follow the characters through a journey. The characters attitudes towards race form a key undercurrent in the book. It feels "true" for these specific characters during the time period of the novel, but it does not make it go down easier.
My favorite chapter is probably the one that I could clearly picture from my time in the Bay Area: the drive from San Pablo Avenue in Oakland, over the Richmond bridge to Marin.
Even though I'm rating the book lower than many others, I have a feeling it will pop up in my mind now and again while I drive past a garage on San Pablo Avenue.
My favorite chapter is probably the one that I could clearly picture from my time in the Bay Area: the drive from San Pablo Avenue in Oakland, over the Richmond bridge to Marin.
Even though I'm rating the book lower than many others, I have a feeling it will pop up in my mind now and again while I drive past a garage on San Pablo Avenue.
June 21, 2017
Very underrated book. For a writer known for his Sci-fi, this early novel shows the depth and talent of a well rounded author. Set in Oakland, CA circa 1960, we follow the struggles of two men, an aging auto mechanic and a young used car salesman, both wanting to be respected. The young car salesman really surprised me in this story, he shows that doing the right thing, though never easy, must win out in the end and he puts himself in danger to protect his elderly friend who hasn't been that good of a friend lately. This is a great story about the friendship men have with each other, the loyalty to look out for each other. The struggles with hard work and poverty, trying hard to get ahead in a fixed system. In the end will greed or friendship win out.? This book is a must read.
Read
July 9, 2016Is this an amazing book or if I am just a huge Oakland history nerd? Probably the latter. Still I think this book is fascinating! It seems to map out this shift from a industrial based economy of the 50s to a service based economy in the 60s through these strange dark allegorical characters. There's also a lot about race relations. This isn't Philip K Dick's best book but if you like Dick and like Oakland YOU SHOULD READ THIS BOOK!
December 29, 2008
A great read for PKD fans. It does look and read like an early novel, but most ingredients for his later works are here - the no-good hero, the wife, the hunting world conspiring against him, the bitter-sweet ending... It's actually very interesting to see how Dick was experimenting with his ideas (even the same characters) during his early works.
June 24, 2018
One of the hardest things for any author to control once his or her book is in print is reader expectation. Especially if he’d dead. But even more so if he’s a legend. I’ve been a fan of Philip K. Dick’s work for about thirty years. I’ve not read everything but every now and then I treat myself to a book and hope I don’t die before I’ve read the best of them. I’ve never dipped into his non-sci-fi stuff before and so I thought it was high time. I didn’t know what to expect but I can’t say I opened the book with no expectations. Frankly I expected to be disappointed. And that can be a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy I find.
Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was written in 1960 and so just three years before he won a Hugo Award for The Man in the High Castle. It was, I was surprised to learn, his twentieth novel and most of the preceding works (including The Man Who Japed, Time Out of Joint and The World Jones Made) were science fiction. That said it is actually a reworking of an earlier novel written in the mid-fifties entitled A Time for George Stavros. How different the two books are who can say? but it’s not the Philip K. Dick we’ve all become familiar with. That said, slip in a few video phones and a flying cop car, and it could easily be (consider A Scanner Darky). Question: Had someone handed me this text and asked me to identify the author would I have guessed right? Answer: I think there’s a fair chance I might. Because the underlying theme is one of paranoia; just who can you trust?
In his Analysis of Philip K. Dick’s Novels Nasrullah Mambrol talks about the book…
When it was rejected by Harcourt, Brace the editor said, “One is left asking, at the end, what the book has really been about, what the author is trying to say in it. As with earlier Dick novels, it simply doesn’t add up to enough.” I’m not sure I agree although I can see why he said what he did. What struck me was the ending because, by Philidickian standards, it’s a happy ending; Humpty is put back together again by, of all people, the King or at least the kingpin. It shouldn’t add up. Injured people aren’t known for their forgiving qualities but what Al Miller gets at the end of the book is a second chance; the system is not out to get him after all. Not this time anyway.
Talking about plot and form in his article ‘Motion and mobility in the realist novels of Philip K. Dick’ Ian C. Davidson writes:
My problem with Dick in general is he’s not a great writer. He’s a great ideas man and we’re so taken by his ideas we don’t pay as much attention to the quality of the writing as perhaps we should. By comparison to his later works this is a chamber piece and it’s easier to see its flaws. That said I never found it boring and I was, happily, less disappointed than I’d expected to be.
If you’re interested in Dick’s other mainstream novels you should also check out Death of a Salesman: Petit-Bourgeois Dread in Philip K. Dick's Mainstream Fiction and Philip K. Dick’s Suburban Jeremiad.
Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was written in 1960 and so just three years before he won a Hugo Award for The Man in the High Castle. It was, I was surprised to learn, his twentieth novel and most of the preceding works (including The Man Who Japed, Time Out of Joint and The World Jones Made) were science fiction. That said it is actually a reworking of an earlier novel written in the mid-fifties entitled A Time for George Stavros. How different the two books are who can say? but it’s not the Philip K. Dick we’ve all become familiar with. That said, slip in a few video phones and a flying cop car, and it could easily be (consider A Scanner Darky). Question: Had someone handed me this text and asked me to identify the author would I have guessed right? Answer: I think there’s a fair chance I might. Because the underlying theme is one of paranoia; just who can you trust?
In his Analysis of Philip K. Dick’s Novels Nasrullah Mambrol talks about the book…
…as a sequel to John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath (1939), recounting what happened after the “Okies” got to California: They settled down, lost their way, ran used-car lots, and became “humpty dumpties”—passive spectators of the American Dream.Dick himself described the work as “a novel about the proletarian world from the inside” as opposed to one written, say, by a middle-class writer. It’s a fair description because the book’s central character is a one lot used car salesman who will probably die a one lot used car salesman. He’s jealous of those who’re more successful than he is and yet when luck shines on him and he gets offered a leg up he does everything in his power to scupper his chances of success.
When it was rejected by Harcourt, Brace the editor said, “One is left asking, at the end, what the book has really been about, what the author is trying to say in it. As with earlier Dick novels, it simply doesn’t add up to enough.” I’m not sure I agree although I can see why he said what he did. What struck me was the ending because, by Philidickian standards, it’s a happy ending; Humpty is put back together again by, of all people, the King or at least the kingpin. It shouldn’t add up. Injured people aren’t known for their forgiving qualities but what Al Miller gets at the end of the book is a second chance; the system is not out to get him after all. Not this time anyway.
Talking about plot and form in his article ‘Motion and mobility in the realist novels of Philip K. Dick’ Ian C. Davidson writes:
The vacillation of the characters and the uncertainties around the purpose of their movements resulted in novel forms and narrative structures that seemed to wander rather than proceed with any sense of purpose towards a conclusion.He then basically gives Dick the opportunity to respond by quoting from a letter he wrote in 1970:
I set up my characters; I set up his worlds; then I have him begin to lose his world as he knows it […] I am writing about a man or men who have lost control or are losing control of their worlds. By making this my subject I am denying that this world really is as we see it…That is a fair description of what happens to Al Miller in this novel. His is a mundane life and he’s well-suited to it even if he’s not always happy with it; ruts are not always bad things; there is comfort in the staticity (the status quo-ness, if you like) of the quotidian. The news he’s going to lose his livelihood is jarring and then when faced with the possibility that he could be something else he panics. We get to watch the proverbial car crash in slow motion.
My problem with Dick in general is he’s not a great writer. He’s a great ideas man and we’re so taken by his ideas we don’t pay as much attention to the quality of the writing as perhaps we should. By comparison to his later works this is a chamber piece and it’s easier to see its flaws. That said I never found it boring and I was, happily, less disappointed than I’d expected to be.
If you’re interested in Dick’s other mainstream novels you should also check out Death of a Salesman: Petit-Bourgeois Dread in Philip K. Dick's Mainstream Fiction and Philip K. Dick’s Suburban Jeremiad.
August 17, 2015
A slog. I can see why it went unpublished. You've read bits of this one sprinkled in all the rest.
My guess is Phil tried really hard to succeed as a straight writer (early on) and was probably disappointed with this--or its lack of publication.
My guess is Phil tried really hard to succeed as a straight writer (early on) and was probably disappointed with this--or its lack of publication.
April 2, 2011
Dick's best, so far. Who gnows what else his wife will put out? More controlled than "Voices From the Street". A one man proletariat.
July 10, 2019
I can see why this was repeatedly rejected and only published posthumously.
I was only really familiar with Dick's sci fi work, so when Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was picked as a book group book I was surprised to find out that it was set in Southern California and featured as main characters a struggling used car salesman and the man who owns the garage and the land on which the lot sits. The owner of the garage is getting old, so he decides to sell his land and invest the proceeds elsewhere, putting the car salesman in a bind. He then proceeds to screw everything up.
Maybe it's because I just read The Lies of Locke Lamora, which I described as "competence porn," but I can't help but think of this book as incompetence porn. If there's a failure to be had or a way to screw up a good situation, Al Miller will find it. He's a middling car salesman, selling mostly junkers that people almost never buy. When his landlord gets old and determined to sell the lot, he tries his hand at blackmail, and then at bluffing his way into a new job, and then at running a con. He's bad at all of it, and his mental breakdown over his situation certainly doesn't help matters.
This was another book where I didn't like any of the characters, not because they were terrible people, but just because they were dull. "Literary" fiction seems primarily to be about college professors wanting to sleep with their students or suburban white people experiencing ennui, and Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is definitely in the latter category. Everyone tells Miller that he's a loser, that he just lets things happen to him, that he drifts along in life and needs to take a greater control of things and...they're all right. Fergusson, the landlord, is a bit more proactive, but there's a big chunk of the book where he's going to check out a land deal in a new subdivision in the North Bay, most of which he spent getting lost. Ah, the foibles of modern life. Look how the automobile is changing American life. Welcome to the future.
And then Miller's game falls apart, and it seems like everything is going to go terribly for him and his life will be over, and then he gets a stroke of luck. Or does he? I'm not sure, because the book sudden ends in a way that might be meant to suggest the lack of happy endings and eternal uncertainty of modern life but actually just annoyed me.
I've really enjoyed all of Dick's fiction I've read until this. Humpty Dumpty in Oakland strikes me as almost a parody of what literary fiction is supposed to be, like Dick was writing in a mode that did not come naturally to him and trying to paint inside the lines but picked all the wrong colors. I recognize that he felt like his sci fi placed him into a literary ghetto--and he was right, honestly--but this attempt to break out wasn't worth the effort.
I was only really familiar with Dick's sci fi work, so when Humpty Dumpty in Oakland was picked as a book group book I was surprised to find out that it was set in Southern California and featured as main characters a struggling used car salesman and the man who owns the garage and the land on which the lot sits. The owner of the garage is getting old, so he decides to sell his land and invest the proceeds elsewhere, putting the car salesman in a bind. He then proceeds to screw everything up.
Maybe it's because I just read The Lies of Locke Lamora, which I described as "competence porn," but I can't help but think of this book as incompetence porn. If there's a failure to be had or a way to screw up a good situation, Al Miller will find it. He's a middling car salesman, selling mostly junkers that people almost never buy. When his landlord gets old and determined to sell the lot, he tries his hand at blackmail, and then at bluffing his way into a new job, and then at running a con. He's bad at all of it, and his mental breakdown over his situation certainly doesn't help matters.
This was another book where I didn't like any of the characters, not because they were terrible people, but just because they were dull. "Literary" fiction seems primarily to be about college professors wanting to sleep with their students or suburban white people experiencing ennui, and Humpty Dumpty in Oakland is definitely in the latter category. Everyone tells Miller that he's a loser, that he just lets things happen to him, that he drifts along in life and needs to take a greater control of things and...they're all right. Fergusson, the landlord, is a bit more proactive, but there's a big chunk of the book where he's going to check out a land deal in a new subdivision in the North Bay, most of which he spent getting lost. Ah, the foibles of modern life. Look how the automobile is changing American life. Welcome to the future.
And then Miller's game falls apart, and it seems like everything is going to go terribly for him and his life will be over, and then he gets a stroke of luck. Or does he? I'm not sure, because the book sudden ends in a way that might be meant to suggest the lack of happy endings and eternal uncertainty of modern life but actually just annoyed me.
I've really enjoyed all of Dick's fiction I've read until this. Humpty Dumpty in Oakland strikes me as almost a parody of what literary fiction is supposed to be, like Dick was writing in a mode that did not come naturally to him and trying to paint inside the lines but picked all the wrong colors. I recognize that he felt like his sci fi placed him into a literary ghetto--and he was right, honestly--but this attempt to break out wasn't worth the effort.
October 3, 2019
I’ve found that with the three non-SF, pre-1960s Philip K. Dick novels that I’ve read (In Milton Lumky Territory, Confessions of a Crap Artist, and Humpty Dumpty in Oakland), there is an extra-textual awareness that these novels were written and shelved for decades, that they represent Dick’s attempt to make it in the mainstream in the 1950s before he found SF success. Or maybe this “awareness” is simply an indulgence in the biographical fallacy, attributing aspects of the writer’s life to his fiction… Nonetheless, something is going on that puts me on alert as I read these novels, and I am astounded by the freshness and inventiveness of his writing and his vision/evocation of the 1950s terrain he is charting.
These novels are not romances, escapist adventures, or literary treatments of domestic/suburban life (a la Revolutionary Road and The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit): all are uniquely, peculiarly, extraordinarily mundane, which is to say they’ve been minority reports on what was transpiring at the time Dick wrote these novels. I find the mundane detail enthralling, and the peculiar specificity (e.g., typewriter repair in Milton Lumky, house construction in Confessions, and dirty comedy records in Humpty Dumpty) is unusual, suggesting that there must have been some personal/authorial connection with the subject matter.
In Humpty Dumpty, Dick presents two principals: aging, ready-to-retire repair-garage owner (Jim Fergessen), and thirty-ish, barely-surviving used-car salesman (Al Miller). The narrative starts with Fergessen as the primary focus, and we learn something of his reliable work ethic, his growing concern for his physical health, and his unconscious prejudices and pettiness. Al Miller’s appearance is gradual, but when his phlegmatic soul is finally put into motion, his perspective takes rein over the rest of the novel as he becomes concerned that Fergessen may be taken for a ride by a slick, shady character (Chris Harman) whose primary business is selling dirty records.
What ensues is an effort by Miller to intervene against Fergessen’s own wishes by trying to expose Harman’s fraudulent scheme. But Miller is not even sure Harman is a fraud, and he proceeds in a clumsy fashion to make things difficult for Harman and Fergessen. Miller’s actions lead to Fergessen suffering a stroke and then a fatal heart attack, which in turn leads to Miller’s relations with Fergessen’s widow, which is a marvel of even more rapidly shifting perspectives.
The novel ends with no clear resolution for anyone, but I found it a satisfying glimpse into a little seen bit of the world 70 years past, where Dick shows us that people act (as they always will) in strangely idiosyncratic ways, more often than not by allowing perception to stand in for reality.
These novels are not romances, escapist adventures, or literary treatments of domestic/suburban life (a la Revolutionary Road and The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit): all are uniquely, peculiarly, extraordinarily mundane, which is to say they’ve been minority reports on what was transpiring at the time Dick wrote these novels. I find the mundane detail enthralling, and the peculiar specificity (e.g., typewriter repair in Milton Lumky, house construction in Confessions, and dirty comedy records in Humpty Dumpty) is unusual, suggesting that there must have been some personal/authorial connection with the subject matter.
In Humpty Dumpty, Dick presents two principals: aging, ready-to-retire repair-garage owner (Jim Fergessen), and thirty-ish, barely-surviving used-car salesman (Al Miller). The narrative starts with Fergessen as the primary focus, and we learn something of his reliable work ethic, his growing concern for his physical health, and his unconscious prejudices and pettiness. Al Miller’s appearance is gradual, but when his phlegmatic soul is finally put into motion, his perspective takes rein over the rest of the novel as he becomes concerned that Fergessen may be taken for a ride by a slick, shady character (Chris Harman) whose primary business is selling dirty records.
What ensues is an effort by Miller to intervene against Fergessen’s own wishes by trying to expose Harman’s fraudulent scheme. But Miller is not even sure Harman is a fraud, and he proceeds in a clumsy fashion to make things difficult for Harman and Fergessen. Miller’s actions lead to Fergessen suffering a stroke and then a fatal heart attack, which in turn leads to Miller’s relations with Fergessen’s widow, which is a marvel of even more rapidly shifting perspectives.
The novel ends with no clear resolution for anyone, but I found it a satisfying glimpse into a little seen bit of the world 70 years past, where Dick shows us that people act (as they always will) in strangely idiosyncratic ways, more often than not by allowing perception to stand in for reality.
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