Memorial

Memorial is the latest novel from award-winning Texas writer Bryan Washington, a dramedy about two young guys who live together in Houston. Mike is a Japanese American chef at a Mexican restaurant and Benson's a Black day care teacher. They've been together for a while, but now they're not sure why they're still a couple. When Mike's mother arrives from Japan and tells him his father is dying from cancer, Mike bolts for Japan, leaving reluctant Benson to live in an odd-couple situation with Mike's acerbic mother, Mitsuko. Benson and Mitsuko learn to tolerate each other while Mike learns more about his father than he ever thought he could while helping him run his bar in Osaka.

This entertaining and heartfelt novel is told in three parts: a first-person section told by Benson, another first-person section told by Mike, and a final section told by Benson again. Both characters give funny and insightful takes about their families and their relationship to each other as well as the other partners that come into their lives while they are apart. Mike and Benson both come from damaged families and that damage is what keeps them from communicating to the fullest extent with each other, each still protecting their own hearts even after a few years of being together. Mike's part about going to Japan to be with his dying father was especially affecting, their relationship examined and kneaded into something resembling forgiveness, truths mined from feelings hardened through the loss of time. When Mike and Benson's two stories come back together in the end, there is at least a hopeful possibility that their love for each other will continue while their families attempt to mend their damaged lives.

This being said, this novel is not perfect. There are a couple of stylistic quirks that were annoying. First, this novel incorporates a recent literary trend to abandon quotation marks. Some authors use this better than others and, in this book's case, it's just slightly annoying. But the second quirk is more egregious: carriage returns within spoken dialog. Here's an example:

Then she said, That isn't your home.

Ma said, We're here now. This is your home.