The psychological parts of the book are credible but unremarkable. The psychic parts are remarkable but incredible. Self-consciously wacky, structured without the benefit of chronology, The Men on Magic Carpets ate six hours of my life.
A smell of intrigue infuses The Men on Magic Carpets: Searching for the Superhuman Sports Star... The book is full of amusing vignettes [and] The “experts” Hawkins seeks out are a bizarre, carnival-like bunch... Hawkins says 58 per cent of Americans claim to have experienced paranormal power. In the epilogue, there is a test: “Are you a Superhuman?” I failed. I have not shape-shifted, levitated, passed through solid objects, time-travelled, used telepathy, transmitted energy or moved an object through psychokinesis. Maybe I watched too many episodes of Scooby-Doo as a kid. It’s never the paranormal; it’s almost always the disgruntled janitor.