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Meet Me in Cognito: That trademark Robbinsian flair and flamboyance is on parade in his new novel. Too Much Robbins 'Villa Incognito' out-Robbins Tom Robbins By Jordan E. Rosenfeld In the cult of Tom Robbins, it seems there are two main sects of readers: Those who adore him despite his often absurd literary gyrations and those who think him a verbose show-off. I admit that, just like the adoring hordes who crowd his readings, I am drawn to Tom Robbins by a force I can't fully comprehend. Robbins manages to wrap surprising slices of truth inside tightly wrought plots. At the end of a Robbins book, it's easy to feel like one has received a special spiritual care package with that unique Robbins recipe for making us wiser, kinder, and more thoughtful about the big mysteries of life. Villa Incognito (Bantam, $27.50), Robbins' newest effort, is indeed rife with the expected themes: the government's blatant misuse of power, the taboo yet compelling allure of young women, and the draw of enlightenment above all other temptations. It would have been a surprise to find anything but the same gurulike figures spewing whimsical advice, having great sex, and living comfortably off the grid. Despite being very well prepared, I commenced to plunge in, as they say in AA, "doing the same thing expecting different results." And plunge in one must, for there is no gentle way to enter Villa Incognito From its very first paragraph Robbins seems to dare the reader to keep reading. "It has been reported that Tanuki fell from the sky using his scrotum as a parachute," taunts the first line. The successive few sentences proceed to describe Tanuki's scrotum in four or five too many ways. Does Robbins then reward further page-turning with the luscious prose morsels and exultant witticisms that we Tom Robbins lovers jones for? Not exactly.