This is Where I Leave You

Jonathan Tropper is magnificent in his recent novel This is Where I Leave You. Judd recently discovered his wife’s affair, and his father just died. He is going through a state of anger, sadness, loneliness, and depression. So the setting is perfect for a comedy. Tropper pulls it off beautifully.

The rarely practicing Jewish family was led by their atheist father. For some reason in his final days he met with God, and his dying wish was for his family to sit Shiva… for seven days. The four adult children were quite reluctant to this idea, but when they started to present their excuses their mother stepped it, “Stop It! Your father lay dying in his bed for the last half of year or so. How many times did you visit him, any of you? Your father made his last wish known, and we will honor it. All of us. For the next seven days you are all my children again.” That was that. For one week the family dysfunction would be on display for the reader to enjoy.

Their mother made the speech while still flaunting her inappropriately large fake breasts, and a parenting book she authored years ago. (The book managed to offer embarrassing and detailed accounts of each of the four children without any attempt to change their names.) Each of the siblings brought their own character flaws and family history into the mix. Just imagine if your own family (including multiple generations) was jammed into a small living area sitting on miniature chairs for an extended period of time.

The story was told through Judd’s perspective as he contemplated his life and his relationship with his family, and doing so while relegated to the basement because this visit he came without a significant other. His mother, whose fake breasts and short skirt didn’t fit her age or the situation, always believed in openness and honesty. The book is written in the first-person as Judd describes various situations like when Betty Allison, the mother of one of his grade school classmates, came over to pay her respect:

“I’m so sorry to hear about your father.”

“Thanks.”

“Betty’s daughter Hannah was divorced last year,” my mother says brightly, like she’s delivering a nugget of particularly good news.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.

Betty nods. “He was addicted to Internet porn.”

“It happens,” I say.

“Judd’s wife was cheating on him.”

“Jesus Christ, Mom!”

“What? There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Judd becomes self-conscious as other people in the room may be noticing the conversation, but the two mothers continue the ploy. Betty adds that she is sure her daughter would love to hear from Judd.

Betty and my mother smile conspiratorially at each other and I can hear the telepathy buzzing between them. Her husband was addicted to porn, his wife screwed around . . . it’s perfect!

“I’m not ready to start dating anytime soon," I say.

“No one said anything about dating,” my mother says.

“That’s right,” Betty agrees, “Just a friendly phone call. Maybe a cup of coffee.”

They both look at me expectantly. I am conscious of Phillip’s elbow in my ribs, his low, steady chuckle. I’ve got six more days of this, and if I don’t nip it in the bud, my mother will be trumpeting my situation to the entire community.

“The thing is, I enjoy some good Internet porn myself, every now and then,” I say.

“Judd!” my mother gasps, horrified.

“Some of it is done very tastefully. And especially now, being single and all. It’s a great resource.”

Phillip bursts out laughing. Betty Allison’s face turns red, and my mother sits back in her chair, defeated.

Tropper brilliantly takes you inside one man’s head, and creates a story that had me shocked a couple times, once openly saying “please don’t, please don’t,” and bursting up laughing several times. Even with only fifty pages left I found myself asking, “Will Judd try to salvage things with his wife, pursue something with his old high school fling, or go a different route all together?” Not only was I unsure how the book would end, I was unsure how I wanted it to end. But I would certainly enjoy the rest of it.

And it ended just as it should.

Pic of the Week

Laura's bookshelf in San Jose:

Thought of the Week

If you want your handheld can opener to have special features like "the ability to open cans" then I would suggest spending more than $2.14.

Days

I was listening to the Yankee game yesterday on the radio and the announcer was discussing one of the players. He said, "And just a few years ago he turned 27 years of age."

Interesting. Me too.

Huevos

This was posted on the island of Cayos Cochinos in response to people stealing the turtle eggs for male sexual enhancement.



Feel free to ask me if you don't know why this is funny.

Thought of the Week

I think I am getting younger with time.

Noah's Letter

Last night I was at my parents' house with my sister's kids. She was working the evening shooting a wedding with her husband. Noah, her youngest (almost 4) said to me, "Uncle Kevin can you help me write a card for mom?" I asked him if he wanted me to help him write the letters or actually write the words for him. We agreed that he would dictate and I would write. Initially, he wanted me to write a "k," but after having no reason for the random letter he got directly to the content. Then when he finished I asked him, "How do you want to sign it? Your son, love, sincerely?" (I didn't really plan on choosing sincerely I was just trying to get him to close the letter.) He came up with his own, one that never would have even occurred to me.

Noah's letter:

Dear Mom,
I love you. I love you past Heaven. I love you to the moon and back. I love Uncle Kevin too.

I love you at the zoo,
Noah

Not bad. I may solicit his help in the future.

Ski-Tubing