FOUR SQUARES: A Novel, fun and games among the elderqueers

FOUR SQUARES: A Novel
BOBBY FINGER
GP Putnam's Sons
$29.00 hardcover, available now

Rating: 4.25* of five

The Publisher Says: From the beloved author of The Old Place comes a tender, funny, and fresh novel spanning the 1990s and present day, about a young writer and the community he builds in New York City, and his lonely life 30 years later when an unexpected injury lands him at the local queer senior center.

Artie Anderson wouldn’t call himself lonely, not exactly. He has a beautiful apartment in the West Village, a steady career as a ghostwriter, and he has Halle and Vanessa, who—as the daughter and ex-wife of his former partner—are the closest thing he can call family. But when the women announce a move across the country, on Artie’s 60th birthday no less, Artie realizes that his seemingly full life isn’t quite as full as he imagined. To make matters worse, a surprising injury strips Artie of the independent lifestyle he’s used to and pushes him into the hands of GALS, the local LGBTQ senior center down the street.

Since the death of his ex-boyfriend, Abe decades ago, Artie’s intentionally avoided big crowds and close friends. So, he’s woefully unprepared for the other patrons of GALS, a group of larger-than-life seniors who insist on celebrating each and every day. They refuse to dwell in the past, but Artie, who has never quite recovered from Abe’s death and the loss of his dearest friends, can’t shake the memories of his youth, and of the chances he did, and didn’t, take.

Stretching across the 1990s and the present day, Four Squares is an intimate and profound look at what it means to create community and the lasting impressions even the most fleeting of relationships can leave. With Bobby Finger’s signature warmth, humor, and wit, it is touching reminder that it’s never too late for a second chance at truly living.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: Well! Was this ever an exercise in feeling seen! I *am* Artie. I though this would be a bubbly and effervescent flute full of story-champagne. More closely resembled a mug of authentic, bean-based xocolatl as opposed to, say, Swiss Miss.

Artie did what I've done with this life, cocooned himself in search of safety in a world he does not like interacting with all that much. He's been lucky, relate to that, he's got a solid basis for his existence at last, relate to that, and the family he's made takes the place of the non-family of origin, relate to that. All of this is balanced on a knife-edge, of course...all of life is, we just don't think about it until the balance is upset. Way big relate to that! So I vibrate like Annie Dillard's struck bell to all of these story points...what could possibly keep this from being a five-star read?

GALS.

I did not love these big, loud people anywhere near as much as I'd need to for me to rate the book five stars. I think the reason I don't adore them is that I felt unable to buy into them as people. They're perfect *characters, of the sort we see actors create for film or stage roles; they're the kind of characters I'd love to see a film about, in fact. I was expecting to be given a more nuanced and investment-able character in a novel, where there is so much more room to develop them. Artie, as a superb example, is developed to a solidity and dimensionality that demonstrates the author's considerable command of the skills needed. His found-family gals were also briefly but memorably limned...I understood they felt deeply their effect on Artie, and still had reasons for the action they took that hurt him.

So it wasn't lack of skill, then; what happened? I don't know. I also don't think I've seen any other reviewer bring this up as an issue, so permaybehaps it's just me being crotchety...? A very real possibility, not to be discounted or dismissed. I don't know how to test for it, or I would.

None of which is meant to be a warn-off, or even much of a caution. Bobby Finger writes good, solid stories, told in deft, enjoyable prose. I think the book belongs on your TBR if you liked his previous book, or of you liked The Guncle, or Nearlywed, or...does it need saying out loud that the world we live in is so immensely superior to the world we grew up in, fellow oldsters? We're able to choose from a huge variety of ways to feel seen and entertained that were, simply put, impossible to find in our youths.

Which is why the great haters so badly want to gain control of society's levers. If you see yourself as you could be, you'll try to become that; this means you won't be like them, and that is an existential threat.

Good. I've said it often, will say it often in future: Whatever it takes to make the great haters feel threatened and unhappy deserves our support.

THE GUNCLE, a sweetly sentimental look at family, love, and their powers

THE GUNCLE
STEVEN ROWLEY
G.P. Putnam's Sons
$11.99 Kindle edition, available now (non-affiliate Amazon link)

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Patrick, or Gay Uncle Patrick (GUP, for short), has always loved his niece, Maisie, and nephew, Grant. That is, he loves spending time with them when they come out to Palm Springs for weeklong visits, or when he heads home to Connecticut for the holidays. But in terms of caretaking and relating to two children, no matter how adorable, Patrick is honestly a bit out of his league.

So when tragedy strikes and Maisie and Grant lose their mother and Patrick’s brother has a health crisis of his own, Patrick finds himself suddenly taking on the role of primary guardian. Despite having a set of “Guncle Rules” ready to go, Patrick has no idea what to expect, having spent years barely holding on after the loss of his great love, a somewhat-stalled career, and a lifestyle not-so-suited to a six- and a nine-year-old. Quickly realizing that parenting—even if temporary—isn’t solved with treats and jokes, Patrick’s eyes are opened to a new sense of responsibility, and the realization that, sometimes, even being larger than life means you’re unfailingly human.

I CHECKED THIS BOOK OUT OF MY LOCAL LIBRARY AFTER MONTHS ON THE WAITING LIST. USE THOSE LIBRARIES! WE'RE HOW THEY LIVE.

My Review: Last year's big beach read was damned near perfect for the job of being gay enough to really show people how this shit works in real life without making straight people squirm. No fewer than 26 (twenty-six!) mass-media straight venues listed it as a must-read! TWENTY-SIX! Ten years ago, I'd've fallen over in a heap; now I'm mightily impressed. And that, mes vieux, is what we call "progress" of the best sort.

But really, can you fault their discernment?

“You’re forty-three!” Maisie bellowed.

“Who are you, the DMV? Lower your voice.”

“That’s almost fifty!” Grant’s eyes grew big.

Patrick took the jab, then closed his eyes and bit his lower lip; the observation was just shy of a hate crime.

–and–

“Canada is harmless and the prime minister is a total snack, so we can do Paw Patrol. But another time, because we have to move beyond brunch and start planning our day. What are you guys thinking, do you have anything on your calendars?”

–and–

Books should be an experience, he thought, not a trophy for having read them.

Really, the most delicious Negroni (Aperol! faugh!) of fun and profundity for the masses! I can absolutely recommend this book to straight women, gay guys over thirty, and the very most adventurous straight men and lesbians.

...wait...that's it? That's the review?

Honestly, it could be. That's what the reviewer does, right? Tell you and those like you if a book is worth reading, and identify that group to the best of their ability. Illustrate with relevant (in the reviewer's opinion) examples, do one's best not to spoiler things for the sensitive fleurs who, inexplicably, still read reviews but don't want to know anything that happens in the artwork in question. But the twenty-six (!) media outlets that yawped about this book in 2021 already did that. (They did not tell you, however, about being assaulted in the sensibilities by twelve {12} w-bombs. It was an invasion of the eye-disease-having winkers. Ick.)

So, let me tell you a little something that is a spoiler, but is also something you really need to know: This is also a book about loving more than you fear being hurt. This is a book about processing loss, making its deforming agonies fit into a shape that will carry you through the rest of a life; this is a book about the unique, unusual pain of losing your mate as a gay man.

Regular readers know that I've had my share of losses, incalculably awful ones, and met them without a lot of inner strength due to my own beginnings among women who judged, and felt comfortable expressing their contempt for, me. I'm not going to rehash the stories, they're spread all over this place, but the fact is I understand Patrick well. He found his Joe...who chose him to be his family...and he had his RG bestie Sara, who also chose him to be her family to the point she married his little brother. His family, then, was born, found, made. He felt it was his...and gawd laughed her evil laugh.

Joe, gone in an instant, his life taken before his body stopped working; Sara, withered and wizened by illness, slowly slowly vanishing, and Patrick losing again...this time with higher stakes, loss built on loss. And Sara? Well. That's the loveliest thing about this book. Sara, whom we meet briefly in flashbacks of her loving bestieship with Patrick, is honestly like Nut the sky goddess and the goddess of Mothers as she was The Mother. Her role is pervasive, her life is not over...never truly will be...but she is, for all that, a space not an object. And that is so exactly like motherhood that it's really a little terrifying....

The word "Guncle" is a portmanteau of "gay" and "uncle" which I trust won't surprise readers of my words. It's a way of refining a relationship that is largely, in the twenty-first century, fungible. I called men "Uncle" who were neither married to my aunts nor related to my parents. It's a standard feature of life now, we claim relationships and make of them things that we're interested in having or being. The family Patrick has built is so deeply rooted that Guncle Patrick is GUP, the Guncle, anything you want because he's still building his identity. As we all should throughout our lives, after Joe's and Sara's deaths, Patrick is reinventing himself in this summer-long story of a clueless gay man taking on the role of grief counselor and rock of support to two kids and, finally, himself.

"Coming of age" is a phrase that, when applied to novels, shows, films, and other cultural detritus, causes my stomach to churn with acid produced by the "flight" part of the famous response. I hated being a teenager and I don't much want to experience that horrible time again in art. Any art. But the simple fact is, we come of middle-age, we come of old-age...we aren't ever Finished Products. That's for characters created to show us their intended side, their best profile. This book's biggest and best gift to the reader of middle or older years is that: Patrick comes of age, again, as he processes his intense and life-altering grief with humor and wit, with stakes far beyond his own self, with clumsy but real love and, finally, respect for the role of loss and sadness, for grief's immense and unending weight.

Lift weights for strength. Do yoga for flexibility. Nourish your body with the tenderest care and attention to its needs. Because it is the vessel that will support your huge burden of grief and sadness, your light and love, your voice as you speak your truth.

Gym bunny GUP did. And Author Steven Rowley led us there without making it a trudge, or selling it short; I didn't just think up that stuff and say it here, I found it all in this light, easy-to-read novel about a man asked to do the impossible. Again: Heal.

LOVE & SAFFRON: A Novel of Friendship, Food, and Love, a one-sitting buffet of reading goodness

LOVE & SAFFRON: A Novel of Friendship, Food, and Love
KIM FAY
G.P. Putnam's Sons
$24.00 hardcover, available TODAY!

Rating: 3.75* of five

The Publisher Says: When twenty-seven-year-old Joan Bergstrom sends a fan letter—as well as a gift of saffron—to fifty-nine-year-old Imogen Fortier, a life-changing friendship begins. Joan lives in Los Angeles and is just starting out as a writer for the newspaper food pages. Imogen lives on Camano Island outside Seattle, writing a monthly column for a Pacific Northwest magazine, and while she can hunt elk and dig for clams, she’s never tasted fresh garlic—exotic fare in the Northwest of the sixties. As the two women commune through their letters, they build a closeness that sustains them through the Cuban Missile Crisis, the assassination of President Kennedy, and the unexpected in their own lives.

Food and a good life—they can’t be separated. It is a discovery the women share, not only with each other, but with the men in their lives. Because of her correspondence with Joan, Imogen’s decades-long marriage blossoms into something new and exciting, and in turn, Joan learns that true love does not always come in the form we expect it to. Into this beautiful, intimate world comes the ultimate test of Joan and Imogen’s friendship—a test that summons their unconditional trust in each other.

A brief respite from our chaotic world, Love & Saffron is a gem of a novel, a reminder that food and friendship are the antidote to most any heartache, and that human connection will always be worth creating.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: First, read this:

We’ve never had mussels before. I’ve always thought of them as freeloaders clinging where they’re not wanted, and you must agree, their beards are unappetizing.
–and–
Our ten days in Paris felt like the blink of an eye. Or a dream. An elegant, buttery, wine-soaked dream.
–and–
When a new experience comes into my life, it doesn’t feel real anymore until I share it with you.

I'll be honest: I asked for this DRC because the subtitle uses the series (or Oxford) comma correctly, which is as promising a start as I can conjure in these degenerate punctuation-heretical times, and the tale is told in epistolary format. I am in the mood for a story of friendship. I am always gruntled by the effective use of epistolary storytelling. And I deeply love reading about people sharing their love of food.

You'll be looking up at that not-quite-four-star rating about now. I can explain.

All of my initial conditions were met, and met fully. I got the epistolary format used well: These are friends by post. There are gaps, lacunae in communicating with each other, and that enables the author to move the pace along in a more natural way. The fact that each letter was a crafted document, a thing one sat down to make and to serve a purpose...evoking in the friend an emotional response...that requires thought. Attention. Serious choice-making. That was evident in the prose (see above).

In Part I, the friendship developed from an initial fan letter that touched Imogen, the recipient, because of its inclusion of a packet of saffron. Now's the time to talk about the 1960s in the USA. As the world is now, a packet of saffron is a welcome gift because it's not cheap. As the world was then, a gift of a narwhal tusk would have about the same impact as saffron. "Whatinahell's that?" Imogen, who can dig clams or hunt an elk, hasn't tasted fresh garlic. In her life. Imagine the impact of SAFFRON! And no, those under 50, this wasn't in the least bit unusual.

I grew up in a household that had WAY more in the way of culinary adventurousness than the average. My parents were older when I was born, we lived near San Francisco, California, which had Chinese, Italian, Mexican, Japanese cuisines and ingredients all over, and my mother loved to experiment with weird, Gourmet-magazine type dishes. (Tuesday dinner, not so much. Feasts, though....) Then my mother and I moved to South Texas, where she hailed from, and I found the goddesses' natural food: Tex-Mex. BUT no one in 1967 Mercedes, Texas, had ever seen a fresh apricot or tasted General Tso's chicken. And that is where I can relate to this story: Joan is possessed of knowledge that Imogen simply doesn't have, or have any way to know she lacks.

So this cultural exchange is one I loved reading about. The historical moment...Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK assassination, the Beatles on Ed Sullivan ("a rrrrrrilllllly big shew!")...was the background of my childhood. They write to each other about it all. They write to each other about their cooking adventures. Single Joan has a lot to offer long-married Imogen because she (figuratively) listens and isn't invested in a particular outcome. What Imogen offers Joan is the simple, invaluable resource of being older, and experienced, and generous with her time, too. In a long novella/short novel, the two forge a perfectly balanced and genuinely moving friendship.

And now about those missing stars.

I am not nit-picking when I say that a book with the delicious recipes in it that this book has (the carne asada!!) needs to hyperlink them somewhere. I don't have a final copy, of course, but the paper copies don't appear to have an index either. (This is as of 6 February 2022, 6pm EST, when I went trolling for reviews last.) Yes yes yes, one can highlight them on the Kindle, but this is an oversight that would make the book even better if it were addressed. There's one quarter star.

Francis, Imongen's husband, blossoming into a passionate foodie during the course of the correspondence is a pleasure, insofar as it's presented to us...but Imogen is reporting it, of course, as it's an epistolary novel between Joan and herself. It's a feature, not a bug; but it left me feeling distanced from Imogen's lived life. I don't think this was a deal-breaker because epistolary...it's in the description...but I do think its impact on Imogen wasn't able to be explored quite as well as would've served the tale told. A quarter-star, and a sigh of regret for a too-short third-person catch-up in Part II.

Joan's life as a secretary at Rexall Drugs was, of course, the kind of job a girl (in the lingo of the time) could expect to get. Imogen encouraging her, boosting her, being there for her as she worked through anxiety and internalized misogyny and pursued her dreams of life in the newspaper world, was just a balm.

But then what? I didn't feel Joan got the spotlight enough as time went by...and that is down, again, to the format chosen to tell the story. But it felt unfinished as it was, with a too-short third-person wrap-up for Joan, too. Not because it wasn't a complete story! Because there was more story I wanted. Another quarter star forgone for expectations raised but not quite met.

When we return to epistolary format in Part III, the magic's worn off...the sweet, nostalgic sense of familiarity at a safe remove isn't there any more. But that isn't a deal-breaker so much as the force of the narrative doesn't have a chance to recover, so the half-star goes because, for the very first time, I noticed myself noticing I wasn't as ensorcelled as I started the read being. (Maybe if the third-person narratives had been diary entries...? I am Monday-morning quarterbacking here, so I'll stop.)

What I'll end on is the sheer pleasure of reading that this one-sitting tale offered. I think any book group that needs to lighten the tone and pick up the pace after a tough read should get this book onto their lists ASAP. I think pandemic-weary people whose lives have shifted into a new configuration through discovering food and cooking would like this for a February Sunday afternoon's pleasure. Most of all, I want to assure anyone thinking "this old man's a nutbar for pushing the read at me with this 3-3/4-star rating" is correct. This old man is, in fact, a nutbar. And one whose purpose it is to tell you what's worth reading.

This is worth reading.

THE PROPHETS, debut novel, NPR Best of 2021 & NYT Notable Book for 2021!

THE PROPHETS
ROBERT JONES, JR.
G.P. Putnam's Sons
$27.00 hardcover, available now

WINNER OF THE 34TH ANNUAL PUBLISHING TRIANGLE AWARDS: THE EDMUND WHITE AWARD FOR DEBUT FICTION!

A BEST BOOKS OF 2021 – FICTION SELECTION FROM BOOKPAGE!

AN ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY BEST & BUZZIEST BOOK OF 2021!

A BOOKRIOT BEST BOOK OF 2021!

A NEW YORK TIMES NOTABLE BOOK FOR 2021!

A BEST-OF-2021 PICK FROM NPR BOOKS!

Rating: 5* of five

The Publisher Says: A novel about the forbidden union between two enslaved young men on a Deep South plantation, the refuge they find in each other, and a betrayal that threatens their existence.

Isaiah was Samuel’s and Samuel was Isaiah’s. That was the way it was since the beginning, and the way it was to be until the end. In the barn they tended to the animals, but also to each other, transforming the hollowed-out shed into a place of human refuge, a source of intimacy and hope in a world ruled by vicious masters. But when an older man—a fellow slave—seeks to gain favor by preaching the master’s gospel on the plantation, the enslaved begin to turn on their own. Isaiah and Samuel’s love, which was once so simple, is seen as sinful and a clear danger to the plantation’s harmony.

With a lyricism reminiscent of Toni Morrison, Robert Jones, Jr. fiercely summons the voices of slaver and the enslaved alike to tell the story of these two men; from Amos the preacher to the calculating slave-master himself to the long line of women that surround them, women who have carried the soul of the plantation on their shoulders. As tensions build and the weight of centuries—of ancestors and future generations to come—culminate in a climactic reckoning, The Prophets masterfully reveals the pain and suffering of inheritance, but is also shot through with hope, beauty, and truth, portraying the enormous, heroic power of love.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA EDELWEISS+. THANK YOU.

My Review: First, read this:

To survive this place, you had to want to die. That was the way of the world as remade by toubab, and Samuel's list of grievances was long: They pushed people into the mud and then called them filthy. They forbade people from accessing any knowledge of the world and then called them simple. They worked people until their empty hands were twisted, bleeding, and could do no more, then called them lazy. They forced people to eat innards from troughs and then called them uncivilized. They kidnapped babies and shattered families and then called them incapable of love. They raped and lynched and cut up people into parts, and then called the pieces savage. They stepped on people’s throats with all their might and asked why the people couldn’t breathe. And then, when people made an attempt to break the foot, or cut it off one, they screamed “CHAOS!” and claimed that mass murder was the only way to restore order.
–and–
This is why Isaiah and Samuel didn't care, why they clung to each other even when it was offensive to the people who had once shown them a kindness: it had to be known. And why would this be offensive? How could they hate the tiny bursts of light that shot through Isaiah's body every time he saw Samuel? Didn't everybody want somebody to glow like that? Even if it could only last for never, it had to be known. That way, it could be mourned by somebody, thus remembered—and maybe, someday, repeated.

You know, from reading those quotes, whether this book is for you or not. This is the prose voice; this is the storyteller's means of talking to you about the world Isaiah and Samuel are within. If it's not for you, then it's not.

But the National Book Award for Fiction thinks it worthy of inclusion on the 2021 list...and I hope, in spite of very serious competition, that the 2021 judges will choose this most American of stories, this beautifully told paean to love's power to transcend mere earthly potency, for the prize.

As I've read this book, and that's twice now, I've been transported by the power of debut novelist Jones's clarity and singleness of purpose. I know that writing about about enslaved people's love for each other is always going to be seen as a political statement. It is inevitable that choosing to tell of the love between two men is going to be seen as a political statement. To do both is, well, it *is* a political statement; but the statement in this book is, "Love Is Love." Isaiah loves Samuel, Samuel loves Isaiah, and these two men are WRONG and BAD and WICKED for this.

How that can be is not something I see in the story; it's not in these pages; and it's the reason I want the book to receive the National Book Award. I'm too old to hope that people will learn not to hate. They love it so, it's such a glorious high, that they aren't going to give it up. But I am not beyond hoping that the unconverted will resonate to the simple, deep joy of Samuel and Isaiah as they navigate a world that hates them for being, on many levels and in many, many places.

"A curse. A curse upon you and all of your progeny. May you writhe in ever-pain. May you never find satisfaction. May your children eat themselves alive."

But it was too late and the curse held no meaning because it was redundant.

That could very well be the most profound thing I've ever read....

I'd recommend to you a read like this under any circumstances, a read that challenges you to make the assumptions you live by fit the facts and not the other way around. I'd recommend it to you because it's about battling the addiction to Being Right. I'd urge it on you because it's beautifully written and deeply, emotionally wrought from the stuff that we get just from being alive.

But most of all, I do recommend this read to you because it's so satisfying to see the story of gay men's love as it has been seen, felt, internalized by the people around them...in many different ways, for many different reasons. The Samuel and Isaiah story is something these two men did not hide, and that is what I think matters the most. The narrative is not solely theirs, so the narrators are not solely them. How very important that facet of the story is to this old reader...how necessary its message of accepting the burden of being alive and in love places on some of us, far far more than others.

Check your privilege, straight people of all skin colors and ethnicities.

When the ancient gods of Africa address you, Readers, you need to listen. They chose Robert Jones, Junior, to deliver their message. I think you're wise to heed it.

IF KENNEDY LIVED by Jeff Greenfield, a Political Fantasia

IF KENNEDY LIVED: The First and Second Terms of President John F. Kennedy: An Alternate History
JEFF GREENFIELD
G.P. Putnam's Sons
$12.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: November 22, 1963: JFK does not die. What would happen to his life, his presidency, his country, his world?

Based on memoirs, histories, oral histories, fresh reporting, and his own knowledge of the players, this book looks at the tiny hinges of history—and the extraordinary changes that would have resulted if they had gone another way.

Now he presents his most compelling narrative of all about the historical event that has riveted us for fifty years. What if Kennedy were not killed that fateful day? What would the 1964 campaign have looked like? Would changes have been made to the ticket? How would Kennedy, in his second term, have approached Vietnam, civil rights, the Cold War? With Hoover as an enemy, would his indiscreet private life finally have become public? Would his health issues have become so severe as to literally cripple his presidency? And what small turns of fate in the days and years before Dallas might have kept him from ever reaching the White House in the first place?

As with Then Everything Changed, the answers Greenfield provides and the scenarios he develops are startlingly realistic, rich in detail, shocking in their projections, but always deeply, remarkably plausible. It is a tour de force of American political history.

My Review: See all those questions in the publisher's copy above? Those are the very ones that Jeff Greenfield, a pundit and powerful columnist, addresses with a great deal of panache and a large helping of nerve. Greenfield was often seen on Nightline during its glory years as THE political chat show.

Greenfield graduated with a JD from Yale before going to work for Sen. Robert F. Kennedy after the president was assassinated. That in mind, imagine my surprise when RFK comes across as a really vicious, very nasty character in this telling of his brother's presidency. Apparently he was no saint. But then again, neither was Jack, as we all now know.

What makes me most happy about this book is its major weakness: If you're not conversant with the politics and personalities of that day, this book will read like a fairly dry novel. Without knowing the name McGeorge Bundy, for example, there's not much point in picking up the book. Better yet, if the name carries with it an image of hornrims and a honking accent, the book will light a little Eternal Flame for Camelot.

And for my own part, I'd LOVE to have seen what Vaughn Meader would've done with a second term! (Yes, I know that went whoooshing over a lot of non-gray heads. So will the rest of the book.)

So why give the serviceable, journalistic prose four stars? Because the prose isn't the point. The tale, the imagining of JFK fighting and winning a very different 1964 election battle and doing so much damage to his own interests...that is what people with memories of that horrible, horrible moment in time when our president was murdered before our horrified eyes would pay the $12.99 for a Kindle copy, or $26.95 for a hardcover version of the book to experience.