Matthew Vaber’s life has just taken a turn for the worse. His father has killed himself—a tragedy for which he feels bitterly responsible, when he lets himself feel much of anything about it at all—and his thrilling but damaged mother has taken center stage yet again. Into this cocktail of familial mayhem, Matthew tosses a bubbling new the Pump Line, New York’s tawdriest phone sex service, where men appear and disappear with the push of a button.
On the Pump Line, Matthew accomplishes precisely what he can’t manage in life, enacting dramas of desire and connection without the burden of any real connection at all and, in the neatest of psychological tricks, manages to feel both unworthy of and uninterested in these telephonic men at the very same time. Father’s Day tracks Matthew’s progress over an extraordinary year of pratfalls and sex and mourning and, quite unexpectedly, something that looks disconcertingly like true love.
Philip Galanes has written a superb comic novel that is, at heart, the story of a son coming to terms with the loss of his father, and a sly and at times exquisitely tender exploration of grief, loneliness, and the depth of childhood shame. In Matthew—wildly antic yet urbane and cannily conspiratorial—Galanes has created one of the freshest and funniest characters to emerge in years, a young man coming to grips with his own vulnerability and pureness of heart through a deliciously funny descent into a cockeyed fantasy of self-annihilation. Father’s Day introduces us to a brilliant new writer of immense talent and charm.
What happened when the glass is almost half empty, the music never good, the atmosphere never right and a date only good when there is a flaw in the act? Meet Matthew, who is addicted to the Pump Line, a telephone dating service for gay men, lives in New York, and who doesn't want his new found lover Henry to be Mister Right. Why does he want life to be superficial and shallow? Why can't he enjoy life and love? Well, probably because his father shot himself some months ago. And neither Matthew nor his mother can't open op and talk about it. They avoid the issue, they never say what they mean and don't admit that they feel guilty. Matthew's shrink isn't any help either. And that leaves Matthew to the Pump Line or the bathhouse. Galanes shows great insight in the human condition, in grief and in the frailty of the human condition, but I have to admit that is very hard to read 216 pages without any smiles, humour and fun. Despite the comical situations I think that it is a rather pessimistic book that leaves us readers only with the slight hope that things may turn out well for us human beings. Let's keep hoping so.
I like Galanes's writing, but he doesn't have much of a plot here, just some characters working through their traumas and complicated relationships. Certain patterns--whether obsessively calling a sex line or repeatedly going through the same dysfunctional family dynamic--grew tiresome, despite feeling authentic. This felt like a sketch not a book--lots of deep feelings, but not enough substance.
Philip and I used to work together at a big fancy-pants law firm in New York. I love that we both abandoned the world of billable hours for lounging in our pjs and writing all day! This is a great read.