This is, of course, Keillor’s ode to Jesse (The Body) Ventura, and
to my surprise (given the public acrimony between the two men)
it’s not nearly as mean-spirited as I expected. To be truly
mean-spirited, a work of satire needs to hew a little closer to the truth
than this one does.

At least, if the Jesse Ventura’s life was anything like Jimmy Valente’s,
the world is a much strange place than I thought.

So much for satire; so how was it as a book? If you’re a Keillor fan
you’ve probably already read it, and if you’re not a Keillor fan, there’s
probably not much point. It’s an extended yarn of the kind he likes to
spin once in a while, it’s incredibly silly, and it kept me reading until
the end. I laughed every so often. But
Lake Wobegon Days it ain’t.