hc.newton
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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“Sorry.”
“For what?” Her honey brown eyes are equal parts amused and curious when she looks up into mine.
I don’t have an answer. Sorry is just a word you say when you have nothing substantive to offer. I’m sorry you missed your bus. I’m sorry your boss was in such a foul mood. I’m sorry everyone is such assholes these days. I didn’t cause any of these problems, and I can’t make any of them better, but I can offer you some useless empathy. I’m sorry your life didn’t turn out to be more fulfilling. Rest assured, however, in a parallel universe in which we didn’t break up, you’re happier. Maybe. And I’m sorry if you’re not. Or at least the parallel me is. He’s the one that let you down there.
What’s This Is Who We Are Now About?
Henry drags his wife and sons to his parents’ house for a few days. One son doesn’t want to leave his girlfriend behind, his wife is trying to finish organizing a charity activity that takes place while they’re away, and Henry really doesn’t want to be there because his family will be celebrating Henry’s 50th birthday.
When they arrive, his parents are having a yard sale, selling a lot of memorabilia from Henry’s childhood and he’s upset by that. A rivalry with his brother reheats, and he keeps running into his incredibly serious high school/college girlfriend.
Things go bad with his wife, his brother, his parents, and his kids. Henry repeatedly tries—and sometimes succeeds—to keep their connection alive. But the challenges (many self-created) continue. Can Henry make it through the visit with his family intact? Is it too late to come-of-age when you’ve hit 50?
So, what did I think about This Is Who We Are Now?
I can defend everything I’ve done since we arrived. Even the worst of Denise’s complaints, in isolation, would be waved away by most objective observers. Collectively, however, maybe it’s not a body of work to stake a flag in. Maybe the picture when all the dots are connected isn’t a flattering one.
I have struggled with this post—especially because I’ve had to write it in bits and pieces over a couple of weeks, which I do often enough that’s not the issue. But I keep changing my mind about the book every time I write—which leads to a lot of editing, re-editing, re-re-editing, and I just give up and walk away.
Even when Henry was making it really easy not to like him (which was often), there’s something very charming, very effortless, and pretty entertaining about this book. His moments with his sons would largely make you wonder why his family is in such a precarious state—then you remember he doesn’t have/make/take the time when they’re at home to be this kind of dad. Then there’s everything he says to, reacts to, or treats Denise…it’s just painful.
I thoroughly enjoyed everything about Henry’s sister, Margo, on the other hand. Her strengths, her bad decisions, and how she reacts to them are easily the saving grace of the novel.
I enjoyed this novel while reading it. But I haven’t been able to decide what I think about almost any part of it that doesn’t involve Margo or Henry’s kids. I think that says something about how realistic Henry, Denise, and their problems and family are. But I don’t know how real I want a book like this to be.
I like Bailey’s writing, I think he’s amusing enough when he wants to be, he gets you invested in his characters, and I wanted to like this a lot. But at the end of this day, I like it just enough to recommend it (most days, other days I could like it a lot more or a lot less).
Originally posted at irresponsiblereader.com.
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
---
“Sorry.”
“For what?” Her honey brown eyes are equal parts amused and curious when she looks up into mine.
I don’t have an answer. Sorry is just a word you say when you have nothing substantive to offer. I’m sorry you missed your bus. I’m sorry your boss was in such a foul mood. I’m sorry everyone is such assholes these days. I didn’t cause any of these problems, and I can’t make any of them better, but I can offer you some useless empathy. I’m sorry your life didn’t turn out to be more fulfilling. Rest assured, however, in a parallel universe in which we didn’t break up, you’re happier. Maybe. And I’m sorry if you’re not. Or at least the parallel me is. He’s the one that let you down there.
What’s This Is Who We Are Now About?
Henry drags his wife and sons to his parents’ house for a few days. One son doesn’t want to leave his girlfriend behind, his wife is trying to finish organizing a charity activity that takes place while they’re away, and Henry really doesn’t want to be there because his family will be celebrating Henry’s 50th birthday.
When they arrive, his parents are having a yard sale, selling a lot of memorabilia from Henry’s childhood and he’s upset by that. A rivalry with his brother reheats, and he keeps running into his incredibly serious high school/college girlfriend.
Things go bad with his wife, his brother, his parents, and his kids. Henry repeatedly tries—and sometimes succeeds—to keep their connection alive. But the challenges (many self-created) continue. Can Henry make it through the visit with his family intact? Is it too late to come-of-age when you’ve hit 50?
So, what did I think about This Is Who We Are Now?
I can defend everything I’ve done since we arrived. Even the worst of Denise’s complaints, in isolation, would be waved away by most objective observers. Collectively, however, maybe it’s not a body of work to stake a flag in. Maybe the picture when all the dots are connected isn’t a flattering one.
I have struggled with this post—especially because I’ve had to write it in bits and pieces over a couple of weeks, which I do often enough that’s not the issue. But I keep changing my mind about the book every time I write—which leads to a lot of editing, re-editing, re-re-editing, and I just give up and walk away.
Even when Henry was making it really easy not to like him (which was often), there’s something very charming, very effortless, and pretty entertaining about this book. His moments with his sons would largely make you wonder why his family is in such a precarious state—then you remember he doesn’t have/make/take the time when they’re at home to be this kind of dad. Then there’s everything he says to, reacts to, or treats Denise…it’s just painful.
I thoroughly enjoyed everything about Henry’s sister, Margo, on the other hand. Her strengths, her bad decisions, and how she reacts to them are easily the saving grace of the novel.
I enjoyed this novel while reading it. But I haven’t been able to decide what I think about almost any part of it that doesn’t involve Margo or Henry’s kids. I think that says something about how realistic Henry, Denise, and their problems and family are. But I don’t know how real I want a book like this to be.
I like Bailey’s writing, I think he’s amusing enough when he wants to be, he gets you invested in his characters, and I wanted to like this a lot. But at the end of this day, I like it just enough to recommend it (most days, other days I could like it a lot more or a lot less).
Originally posted at irresponsiblereader.com.