When M. Night Shyamalan’s sophomore effort “The Sixth Sense” turned into a box-office phenomenon, everyone anxiously awaited the arrival of his second feature film, “Unbreakable.” Unfortunately for Shyamalan and the public, the movie had only a lukewarm reception, with a shaky plot that depended too much on the success of its predecessor.

Such is the case for Dave Eggers’ second novel, “You Shall Know Our Velocity.” After creating a national stir with his first book, “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius” in 2000, the literary world could not wait to learn what Eggers had in store next.

Unfortunately, Eggers’ fans may be disappointed with “Velocity.” His new novel falls flat in areas he seemed to have perfected in his first book. His irony is stale, his ambivalence has worn thin and his self-conceit is no longer humorous.

In short, everything that made his first book wonderful makes this book tired.

“Velocity” is a tale of two young men traveling around the world on a quest to give away $40,000 in one week. Will, a construction worker from Wisconsin, has received money in a random stroke of luck and is intent on doling it out on a whirlwind trip around the world. He brings with him his worldly friend Hand.

On the way, the two deal with the recent loss of the third member of their trio, Jack, a veritable Christ-like figure who died several months before in a car accident. Together, Hand and Will search for an inherent goodness in the countries they visit, hoping to grant a monetary reward to those who warrant it.

At the outset, the plot looks to be quite compelling, but, unfortunately, it stutters through the nitty-gritty of travel — the protagonists get held up by flat tires, monetary procedures and airline hassles.

Aside from the tedious specifics, their journey is tainted with presumptuous whores and manipulative cab drivers who dissipate the friends’ hopes of ever finding purity. Although realistic, these anecdotes read wearily rather than humorously.

And in the midst of it all is Will’s deep aggression towards humankind: “Every day I had hours when I wanted to direct a machine gun, somewhere, anywhere, feel the falling shells tapping my instep . . .”

Although it is clear Will has his share of problems, his anger highlights one of the novel’s larger problems. In being at worst furious and at best apathetic, Will’s character comes off as unlovable.

Readers will be unable to sympathize with him, despite his pain from losing Jack, and therefore will never be truly won over by the novel.

Will’s inability to open up alleviates the lack of narrative focus slightly throughout the novel but never really goes away. As the story proceeds, he gets progressively more introspective as his mental conversations with his dead friend increase.

The emotional insight is at first a nice change from the monotony of Will’s grumbling, but it, too, sours slightly after seemingly endless conversations that lead nowhere.

This is not to say the novel is worthless. Eggers can be admired for the imaginative antics he dreams up for the two friends, such as their attempt to tape money to a goat and their jumping from a rental car onto a horse-drawn cart. The sporadic drawings and pictures add life to the pages in typical Eggers’ style. Also, native Wisconsinites will enjoy the numerous references to Milwaukee suburbs such as Oconomowoc.

At long last, after their trip has finished, Will successfully reconciles Jack’s death in a heart-warming conclusion.

Despite this satisfying closure, at its height, “Velocity” only reaches mediocrity. The funny parts aren’t funny enough; the sad parts aren’t sad enough.

In short, Eggers’ “Velocity” is no more than a sophomoric attempt to reclaim the victory of his debut novel.