Quirky 
 Quirky. That was the term used by a fellow reader, and it fits to a tee. Quirky, starting with the incomprehensible title (Veblen is the first name of the heroine, but I had no idea at first what makes her portable*). Quirky, from the picture of a cute squirrel on the cover to the appendix listing 65 names for the animal in different languages (I especially like the Yiddish: Ww'ww'rq -- really?). Quirky, in the author's habit of throwing in a black-and-white photo now and then, of only tangential relevance. And quirky in McKenzie's style, as heralded by this opening paragraph: "Huddled together on the last block of Tasso Street, in a California town known as Palo Alto, is a pair of humble bungalows, each one aplot in lilies. And in one lived a woman in the slim green spring of her life, and her name was Veblen Amundsen-Hovda." 
 Quirky. But not quite quirky enough to sustain interest through style alone. The first chapter is called "End the Attachment!" As this begins, more or less, with Veblen getting engaged to a young physician named Paul in medical research, we wonder if this is a mistake and she will return the ring the next morning. She doesn't, but the question still lingers as we see more of their potential incompatibilities, as we learn more about Paul and his questionable relationship to the predatory Big Pharma heiress who is funding his research, and as Veblen takes him to meet her mother, a hypochondriac from hell. There is something of a theme going about the post-hippie generation--values embraced by Veblen but rejected by Paul--but I didn't find it enough to sustain my interest. I am sure that many readers will find this charming, but I prefer books with more bite. 
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 *I did not realize at first, but "Veblen" also refers to the Norwegian-American economist Thorstein Veblen (1857-1929), the coiner of the phrase "conspicuous consumption." So you might refer to a one-volume collection of excerpts from his works as "The Portable Veblen." Or consider that the Veblen of this book, as an adherent of at least some of the anti-consumerist philosophies of her namesake, might be called "Veblen in action," or I suppose "portable." And indeed the text itself gets more explicit later on. But it seems an obscure reference for the title of the book. Quirky, as I say.