This book is hilarious, almost a comic-book tale pitting good versus evil, small versus large and independence versus establishment. The good guys here make fools of Vermont’s political leaders, outwitting them at every step ... Bill McKibben has penned an entertaining political satire, a delightful romp through Vermont’s hills and valleys ... All this nonsense creates a quick read, a delightful romp of a morality play that allows McKibben, a noted environmental activist, to make his points, including shots at our current White House occupant.

Vern's charisma is evident from the start, as McKibben renders him with impish wit and sly wisdom ... McKibben's folksy portrayal of the state is Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon meets Newhart and the author's pop-culture savvy punches up his otherwise provincial fable ... the book breezes along on a shaggy-dog plot that spirals into the surreal. That's both a strength and a drawback; veering erratically from light-hearted and heavy-handed, Radio Free Vermont succeeds best when it settles into a zany groove that borders on magic realism. The book doesn't offer secession as a serious solution to Vermont's, or America's, woes — it's more a Swiftian modest proposal, one that symbolizes something far more reasonable and practicable: nonviolent resistance against a rising tide of ignorance and oppression. McKibben's chosen cause of environmentalism falls under this umbrella, but his book wisely takes a wider satirical stance, while keeping a focus on its quirky, cranky cast of characters. A lean, fantastical, swift-kick-in-the-pants of a read, Radio Free Vermont may not save the world — but it succeeds wildly in making the formidable prospect of resistance feel a bit more fun.

The early parts of the novel are taken up with Vern’s podcast monologues...We get whole pages of explanation about the evils of industrial farming, the sources of modern alienation and the highlights of Vermont’s proud history. That could be tiresome, for sure, but McKibben, who lives in Vermont, has re-created on the page the pleasures of a good old radio voice: a lulling mixture of curious detail, dignified outrage and self-deprecating humor ... To say this is a small novel would be no offense to the author, who praises smallness throughout, but I wish McKibben sounded a little more anxious about the sinister trappings of secession movements ... Given the current reign of chaos in the White House, it must feel tempting to give up on America and go your own inspired way, but we need everybody now more than ever. Don’t run away, Vern. Stay and help us.

Radio Free Vermont is a charming bit of artisanal resistance lit. It’s a bit rough, with the occasional nailhead poking up too high. (Perry’s upspeak? It gets to be, um, a bit much?) But what’s surprising is how well-crafted the book is over all; how unhokey its folksiness feels, and how true its observations ring ... Radio Free Vermont is more than 'A Fable of Resistance,' as its subtitle says. It’s a love letter to the modest, treed-in landscape of Vermont, which Barclay wouldn’t trade for all the grandeur of Montana. It’s a dirge for the intense cold, which Barclay sorely misses. It is an elegy for a slower, saner Vermont and dependable Yankee virtues, like neighborliness and self-reliance and financial prudence.

...more political fable than literary novel. The plot is heavy on coincidence and light on believability. But readers of Radio Free Vermont didn't come here for the book's literary merits. The novel, which was blurbed by Bernie Sanders himself, is being marketed as a grippingly relevant tale for these dire times ... Yes, McKibben's evocations of the ravages of global warming are relevant and poignant – the book takes place in January, but Vermont is in the throes of another warm, muddy winter. His depiction of overarmed local police forces are also spot-on. But overall, the big bad world that Radio Free Vermont's characters fight against doesn't read alarmingly like ours; if anything, it actually feels dated ... But even if it's not a shockingly relevant mirror of these modern times, Radio Free Vermont is still worth reading, because it espouses a timeless principle that is indeed relevant today: local government and grassroots efforts hold great power to transform the world around us ... Radio Free Vermont may not live up to certain aspects of its marketing, but it's a stirring reminder of the importance of loving our home, working with the people around us to figure out what we want that home to look like in the future, and then fighting for that vision.

McKibben wisely leaves unresolved the ultimate question of whether Vermonters will vote at their annual town meetings to support turning their state into a fledgling republic, while effectively portraying even Vern’s mounting ambivalence as his movement rapidly gathers momentum. Radio Free Vermont is less a brief for secession than it is a gentle argument for the virtues of responsible civic engagement. In a time when many Americans feel alienated from the machinery of government, that’s a message worth taking seriously.

...[a] rollicking tale of monkeywrenching and political activism ... With a playful and quick-moving plot that belies the seriousness of the book’s environmental and political message, McKibben’s stirring call for recognizing the value and power of smallness in a globalized world makes for a vital and relevant fable.

McKibben’s players are symbols as much as characters, acting out an idea. It’s a fable, in other words, and it gets a little didactic at times. McKibben admits as much, writing in an author’s note that the message isn’t necessarily that the nation should splinter so much as that 'when confronted by small men doing big and stupid things'—and we all know who he means—'we need to resist with all the creativity and wit we can muster.' A timely yarn that, though a little obvious and a little clunky, makes for a provocative entertainment.