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Average rating4
The author questions what it means to be a man today in a series of interlinked autobiographical reflections, regrets, and reexaminations, each sparked by an encounter, in the present, that holds some legacy of the past.
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This book has been sitting on my bedside since last Christmas. I've been reading a chapter here and there between books. Chabon is an interesting guy, especially when he gets to talking about his interests. But I'm not always fascinated by others' accounts of being a father. And, in fact, there's one kinda funny essay here which likens all of us dads into one big fat cliché when it comes to being fathers of girls. It was kinda easy to see myself lumped in there with all the rest. For such an accomplished novelist, Chabon comes across as very modest and self-deprecating (which I respect). Not surprisingly, I enjoyed some essays better than others. But there was nothing really “OMG” really going on.
I love his writing style, perfectly focused on the mundanities of modern life. Ultimately familiar and erudite, he is the middle-aged father pondering his place in life. While it can be spotty in places, Chabon redeems himself continuously with so much good stuff. His story on how low the bar has been set for fathers, the familiar crunch Lego makes as you look for that singular piece to finish your masterwork, his kid's Dalek t-shirt, the wilderness of childhood and fessing up to his own drug use. He's damned smart and I totally would love to just hang out with the guy.