The summer Michael Smolij turns seventeen, his father disappears. One by one other men also vanish from outside Detroit where their fathers before them had lived, raised families, and, in a more promising era, lived. One man props open the door to his shoe Wisconsin. store and leaves a note. "I'm going to the moon," it reads. "I took the cash."
The abandoned wives drink, brawl, and sleep around, gradually settling down to make new lives and shaking off the belief in an American dream that, like their husbands, has proven to be a thing of the past. Unable to leave the neighborhood their fathers abandoned, Michael and his friends stumble through their twenties until the restlessness of the fathers blooms in them, threatening to carry them away.
Dean Bakopoulos was born in Dearborn Heights, Michigan on July 6, 1975 to a Ukrainian mother and a Greek father. A child of immigrants, he grew up speaking both Ukrainian and English, was shy to the point of psychosis, and avoided group gatherings and rarely left his mother's side. He ate copious amounts of borscht and cabbage rolls. When his grandfather, Gregory Smolij, retired from 25 years on the line at Ford Rouge, there was a large party in his grandparents' basement. This is Dean's first memory and, in it, his family was brilliantly happy and jubilant. He memorized the 1981 NFL records book and recited football stats to all willing ears. When Chuck Long made his first start for the Detroit Lions, he was allowed to stay up and watch Monday Night Football. He wrote his first short story at age seven. It was called "I Get Trapped."
At puberty, he suddenly became very outgoing. Nobody could shut him up. He was either maniacally optimistic or indefatigably sullen in his demeanor; he wept far too often for a young man. A wimp! A sensitive little wimp! During high school, he recalls only one broken heart (she knows who she is), two fistfights, and an embarrassingly earnest desire to drink enough to be the next Hemingway. He went to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and, while in school, worked as a writer for WWJ News Radio in Detroit. After graduating in 1997, he got married, moved to Wisconsin, worked on a horse farm for a spell (the best job he ever had), and then became the buyer for Canterbury Booksellers, which once was a bookstore in Madison, Wisconsin but is no longer one.
Later, he graduated from the University of Wisconsin MFA program, was a Tennessee Williams scholar at the Sewanee Writers' Conference, and finished his first novel, Please Don't Come Back from the Moon (Harcourt), which has just been released. After a year of steady training at a place called the Monkey Bar, he was able to do a surprisingly high number of push-ups and chin-ups. In 2004, the Virginia Quarterly Review included him in an issue announcing Fiction's New Luminaries. This made him happy for months. You would not guess it, but a very famous American poet once called him (in all seriousness) a "youthful, effervescent dancer" after a gathering at the Breadloaf Writers' Conference. This has made him happy for years. When he does not get enough sleep, he is not worth knowing or being near. He lives in Mineral Point, Wisconsin with his family.
This book was marketed as Magic Realism. It is not Magic Realism, not even if you have a rediculously liberal idea of what that term means. It is social realism that explores the power of the main characters personal mythology concerning his absent father. Magic realism is a term that gets thrown around too much these days, which is pitiable, because it is an awesome term. It describes its particular "ism" farm more accurately than most. However, it gets attached to a lot of things that don't qualify. This book for example. A brief definition (sorry to rant): In magic realism, fabulous things literally happen but they are not treated by the narrative as such. Narrative authority refuses to justify the inexplicable. These events are literal in the context of the story and the reader is asked to accept them as such. In this book, the fabulous things are not literal events. They are metaphorical, even in context. That said, it's still a very readable book I would recommend to most of my friends. Especially the female ones. Bakopoulos creates characters who are both real and likeable without being Lowest Common Denominators, as is the case with most contemporary fiction overly concerned with characters to whom the reader can relate. The situations are compelling and the pace is pitch perfect. Bakopoulos also manages to confront some uncomfortable contemporary political realities without alienating his audiences, something that seems to be rarely attempted, and accomplished rarer still. Read this book.
THERE IS A SPOILER IN THIS REVIEW ALSO SORRY I'M USING GOODREADS AS A JOURNAL IT IS LATE AND I HAVE FEELINGS AND THIS PLATFORM FEELS KIND OF SAFE IN SOME WAY
According to U-M English Department lore, Dean Bakopoulos's subcon thesis was entitled "Please Don't Come Back From the Moon."
Therein lies my only complaint about this book: It prevented me from working on my own goddamn thesis for days. Because the fucking protagonist is so fucking flawed and earnest it actually hurts and I loved him and rooted for him and was devastated for him and I haven't read a book in SO LONG that managed to inject so much dang humanity into a character.
Also someone please let me know why the New York Times called this magical realism?? That's actually crazy to me like sure there's some dream imagery but let's not get carried away and start calling every wacky thing we read 'magical realism' --
Anyways. I'm sad. I'm sad this book is over and that there aren't more books like it and I'm sad for Michael, the protagonist. I'm sad for all of the men in this story who thought their dads were on the moon, because 'went to the moon' is more palatable than 'moved to Illinois,' and every reader knows that. I'm sad for the dads who left because, by some work of ACTUAL magic -- or just pure genius -- Bakopoulos made me feel that, too.
This has been on the ol' To-Read shelf for over 10 years, and I'm a stupid idiot asshole for not reading it sooner.
It's a little bit of what we call Kmart realism, gritty, blue collar shit, mixed with the tiniest hint of magical realism, which is that there is speculation throughout about whether the dads of Maple Rock, a suburb of Detroit, actually all up and left their families to go to The Moon.
Whether or not they went to The Moon, they're definitely gone without a trace, and the young boys step into their dads shoes a little earlier than planned. The barkeeper at one particular bar lets 16 year olds drink, maybe because he figures why not, maybe because he's got dementia and confuses the kids with their fathers. There's more than a little Mrs. Robinson going on for a bit there. Things are hectic, yet...not.
We've all hit up a coming-of-age book before, we all turn into our fathers, etc., and this goes down those roads, but it's a fine, fine book about turning into our fathers and understanding why, given the option, some of them lit out for The Moon, never to return.
It's nice to find hidden gems on the to-read list. I guess that's why we keep them, right? Because we think a book sounds good, so we throw it on the list to not forget it. But then the list becomes its own whole THING. Like you start to wonder whether you'll get through it in your lifetime, even if you stopped adding to it right now and dug in hard.
Sometimes you go through the list and it's like, "What the fuck was I thinking?" Or you're like, "I know I read this one book by this dude that I really liked, but maybe I should've just added, like, one other one instead of everything he'd ever written, like I might forget."
I toy with deleting the to-read sometimes. I think, damn, wouldn't that be freeing? Just start as though I've never made a to-read list in my life and pick out the first thing I come across that looks good, read it, then move onto the next only after finishing whatever I'm on. It seems like a simpler, better life.
But I guess Dean Bakopoulos has given me some faith that my to-read list isn't all bad. It's not all a trap, right? Maybe there are more gems in there, waiting to be uncovered.
And maybe Goodreads will just cease to exist one day, and then I'll have to figure it all out again. Maybe that'd be a relief in a way. I mean, it'd be shitty at first, but I'd recover. You would, too.
Should we all do it? Just all delete our to-read lists together? Should it be an annual...maybe like every 5 years holiday? Where we say, "Look, I didn't get to it in 5 years, I'm probably not getting to it ever?" Maybe clear our bookshelves that way, too? Our kindles?
If we decided to do this, who would be the first one to jump? I feel like the first person, it'd be like cliff diving, and everyone else swore they'd jump too, but you're looking back, and holy shit, everyone's still standing on solid ground. Betrayal!
But maybe that's just paranoia.
I don't know. Let's think about this more, me and you. Let's consider the possibilities.
This book was a gift from a very lovely woman at Harcourt, who interviewed me for a position in the publicity department well above my level. It became quite clear--approximately fourteen seconds into the interview--that I wasn't quite right for the gig, and that I only half-heartedly wanted the job anyway.
So we just wound up chatting about novels and as I was leaving, she made me wait in reception so that she could find a copy of this book for me. It was well worth the wait, and a gesture that made me re-think how wishy-washy I'd been about the job. If the director of publicity cared that much about books, it probably would have been a fantastic place to work.
Sometimes fiction hits a little too close to home. A heartfelt tale of the working life in post-industrial Michigan along the 94 corridor after the factory jobs disappeared. When your only hope is making it to Ann Arbor.
Bakopoulos captures the sadness and despair of fathers gone missing in more ways than one. The early 90s were bad here for sure, but I'd love his take on the current state. At least his boys still had the mall.
The back cover of Please Don't Come Back from the Moon makes it seem like this is the story of a small suburban town outside of Detroit and all of the father's spontaneously leaving. When I started the book I was expecting this to be the entire plot, but by the end of the first chapter all of the father's have left and the wives and their children are left to fend for themselves. That is the beginning of the real story.
Over the course of these almost 300 pages, Bakopoulos follows Michael and his friends through their adolescence and their 20s as they grow up, fall in love, find jobs, and struggle to find their own way in the world in the shadow of their own father's departures. As the characters age and develop, Please Don't Come Back from the Moon shows itself to be a wonderful coming of age story about the complexity of coming of age as a man in a blue color community during a declining economy.
One of my favorite themes of this book is how different characters choose to cope with the situation and how to fight the existential dread of waking up every day, caring for your family and working a job that doesn't pay enough. This is a problem that afflicts many people in our country, but I think this book does a great job of showing how the shame of not being able to have a stable career like previous generations is a stigma that uniquely affects blue color men.
Bakopoulos also tackles the topic of mental illness in men and how they become increasingly isolated as they grow older. Even though Michael and his friends got together regularly, they barely ever talked about their problems and instead drowned their anxieties in alcohol and insulting each other.
This is one of the better books i've read that talks about the issues men face in our society today. I recommend it.
I really enjoy when certain aspects of a story are left open for personal interpretation. This book has that element and so much more. There are layers of lightness and darkness, and the storytelling is both easy, yet heavy. I have no idea how to adequately review this book expect to say I loved it.
i work in dearborn, across the street from the mall with the book nook and old sub shop. it's not safe to go there as a young woman; there've been countless rumors of sex trafficking. regardless, JOSIE TOLIN WHEN YOU SEE THIS CALL ME WE NEED TO TALK.
I'm a sucker for well-written books highlighting mediocre lives, and this is one of them. What makes Please Don't Come Back from the Moon stand out even farther from the pack, though, is its touch of magical realism. The book begins with an unlikely event: the mass exodus of dozens of fathers from a working class Detroit neighborhood in the span of a few weeks. One of them claims to be "going to the moon" and the phrase sticks in their minds of the neighborhood's teenage children, who grow up into rough-edged, violent teens and then a brotherhood of disappointed men.
The book follows one of those kids, Mikey, through years of awkwardness, alcoholism, and depression as he struggles to figure out who and what he wants to be. The collective absence of the fathers colors all of it, and Mikey often speaks directly to them, as though the fathers are the readers. As time goes on and Mikey becomes a father himself, he and his friends start to feel the pull of the moon, too - which is where the bits of magic (maybe real, maybe imagined) come in.
When one of the fathers finally resurfaces, surprising the whole neighborhood, it sets up an unexpected and ambiguous ending. It also finally brings the book's title into focus, making it clear that while all of the boys want their fathers back in the abstract, they don't really want them to return and break the moon illusion. After all, who are they without that absence? And is life without any magic (particularly as a blue-collar provider in a crappy economy) really worth living? Add in Bakopoulos's top-notch writing and you have a book rich in excellent images and thought-provoking lines. I'll be re-reading this one for sure.
The premise is cool enough: all the fathers in the town of Maple Rock somehow disappear at the same time. What's even more interesting is that they claim that they've gone to the moon. We don't hear much about what happens to them via the narrator save for some bits and pieces that seem to be directed at his father (who had gone to the moon). Instead of getting clarification about this incident that happened when Michael was a young boy and how he and his friends dealt with that situation, instead we get the lowdown of what is happening in "Miserable Mikey"'s life. I have to say that I couldn't help but feel that Michael was probably the poorest narrator ever. While his descriptions of familiar places in Michigan were great to read (I'm a Michigander; this is literally the only reason I'm giving this book two stars) it couldn't help with his character is a whole. If the author wanted to put across a character that was completely distant then I guess he checked that off his list. It's sad to say that the main character was not the interesting part of the story but rather: his best friend Nick, his ex lover from high school Sonya, his older lover Holly, and even his final flame Ella. There is a part in the book where Michael gets feedback on one of the stories that he writes for his community college creative writing class (he wanted to be a writer at one point) and the professor says something like: "flat female characters" and thus give him a poor grade on the assignment. That part I find funny since the common could almost be applied to the female characters in this book. Sonya is depicted in a slight negative light because she wants more than what Maple Rock has to offer her so now she comes off as shallow when she doesn't want to be in a relationship with Michael anymore. She only reappears when she becomes the love interest for his best friend and ends up being knocked up with his baby ultimately marrying Nick. Holly, the woman whose son died under Michael's watch as a lifeguard one summer, seems to completely get over her son's death very quickly and then falls into this predictable side relationship with Michael. While she chants about energies and chakras, Holly only seems to be relevant in the sense that she pushes Michael to start thinking about doing something with his life. Even then, he still whines about his predicament while making no effort to find a solution to his situation. When Holly runs off with this newfound freedom, Michael sits ungratefully in his inherited (for FREE) home like a lost puppy dog before he throws up his hands and gets a job at the new mall. Here, we meet Ella: a young, single mom who works at the mall with Michael and every Wednesday participates in a bikini model contest for quick cash. The banter between the two upon their first meeting was entertaining, and it seemed as though Ella would take advantage of Michael's infatuation with her so she could get a babysitter. While this happens, somehow in the midst of things Michael and Ella's son bond over pizza and the foundation of their first interaction (she finds Michael annoying) is cast aside with some faux inner struggle and then suddenly they're married with kids. It's unbelievable.
Then the situation sounds familiar doesn't it? Suddenly, all these Maple Rock boys are men with families now and we are presented with a full circle type of plot with them possibly pulling what their father's did and disappearing to the moon. I wish that would've happened. It would've given me a little bit of satisfaction if that was the route that the author would have taken. Instead, Nick is the only one to disappear after the boys mysteriously end up meeting in the parking lot of the bar they used to frequent. After that, Tom (another friend of Michael's) has learned of his father's reappearance and death in Illinois. Tom's father is the only one of the original disappearing moon crew who we learned of their fate. Note: not our narrator's or even his best friend's father's fate.
This could have been the coolest story ever if we learned what had happened with the original crew of fathers. I really like the idea of them just suddenly floating to the moon...if I had a proper reason as to why. It would have been even cooler to see if the sons of these men were to have reunited with them on the moon and got an explanation. Not to mention, I think there's an inconsistency with what happens with men floating to the moon seeing as in the original crew they all were in Maple Rock and disappeared. Their sons were in different cities and yet were called to look at the moon in that parking lot.
I really liked the original concept of the book and I enjoyed the way that the writing flowed. I just could not get over how the secondary characters had a chance to be more fulfilling than our main character and then they all just faded away leaving me more confused and a little agitated once I'd finished the book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Al principio me costó agarrarle la mano (mea culpa porque esperaba otra cosa). Ya una vez que me enganché en el ritmo lo disfruté bastante. El último capítulo es tener el corazón en la boca todo el tiempo, pero me gusta cómo cerró la novela🙏🏼
Darn you, Dean Bakopoulos, for making me cry big, ugly, satisfying tears for Please Don’t Come Back From the Moon. Full of hope and hopelessness, you captured confusion, longing, and restlessness within a magnificent read. Please excuse me, for I must go hang my head and ponder for a while...
Beautiful, accurate, frank book about the cloying feeling of being half-conscious in your own life, of looking at everything through an unwashed pane of glass and realising that while the cast might change over the years the scenery is, in fact, the same. The year Michael Smolij turns 19, his father, and all the fathers in his blue-collar 'burb of Detroit, disappear. Myth has it, they've gone to the moon.
As the years pass, the economy continues to run the gamut from crap to awful, and Mikey and his friends move into the roles their own fathers wandered away from. Now they too begin to feel the pull of the moon. It's a feeling that seems a little like vertigo - like as much as they know it will be worse if they leave, they feel the pull of the other, more dangerous, lonely road - and a little like disappointment, self-hatred and fear, as Mike realises you don't metamorphosize into a father or a husband, you just continue to be who you are, and the pressures mount like passing time.
This is a novel that could appeal to a lot of people - and I read it within a couple of days, and until my bath got cold. I received this for Christmas, and I asked for it because I've read the author's My American Unhappiness and loved it. Check it out!
I was torn between 3 and 4 stars. This books definitely gets points in my opinion for originality and uniqueness. I've definitely never read anything like this. This was a coming-of-age story in which the young men of a Michigan town struggle after their father's vanish or "go to the moon." There is a sense of mystery about the "moon" if the fathers are really on the moon, or where they could be. But there is a very realistic, disturbing pull these young men feel as they have their own families of abandoning everything for the "moon." It was haunting, sad, and interesting and very beautifully written. The book also touches on the economic struggles of the recent past with which we are all familiar and a desire for change. I think this book is how these young men learn to deal with the internal struggles of adulthood and responsibility, and the desire to walk away from it all and unburden themselves. It was definitely interesting. I liked Bakopoulos's writing style- very simple and elegant. I think many readers could definitely find the characters, and their struggles very realistic, even set among the mystery of the moon.
This is the story of what happens to abandoned children after they grow up. As expected they make for themselves unstable lives, more so while going through the economic depression which compelled their fathers to leave. Without guidance or direction, these youth end up making costly mistakes, and (for the most part) they end up staying in the same poor, run-down neighborhoods where they grew up. And in the end they become as prone to abandon their own families as their fathers did before them, though they certainly fight the impulse to leave.
I picked up the story because I was intrigued by the title. It comes from the note one of the fathers left when he left: "I'm going to the moon. I took the cash." The abandoned children grow up half-believing that their parents are indeed somewhere on the moon; not in a conscious level, of course, but more as a gut feeling, which is where it really counts.
I liked, above all, when the narrator reminisced about his past, when he spoke to the gone fathers about the lives their children were living: their hopes, their disappointments, their flaws.
Set in Maple Rock, a fictional Ukrainian working-class suburb of Detroit, where one year all of the fathers in town went to the moon. Narrated by the son of one of the fathers, sixteen at the time his father disappeared, the book spans the subsequent decade as Mikey grows into a restless manhood. There is hope that he'll escape the fate of this father -- both the reasons he went to the moon, and the moon itself.
Much of the story is set in and around Detroit and Ann Arbor, where I grew up, so part of the appeal for me is familiarity and nostalgia. But you don't have to be from Detroit, or even the Midwest, for the overall themes to ring true.
Lost some points star-wise because it's a great first novel, but it's definitely a first novel and stumbles in some of the predictable ways those books tend to. But definitely worthwhile reading and recommended.
This book is so good, it had me dreaming in its narrative style over the last couple of nights. Told in the first person, it’s the story of Mickey, whose dad suddenly abandons his family when he is 17 years old. Through a series of vignettes, Mickey reflects on the next 13 years, providing insight into what it was like to grow into a father himself without a father’s guidance. The first person narrative carries a tragically somber tone- hinting that grown-up Mickey is not yet sure what will be of him: Has he inherited the restlessness of his father? Is he predisposed to commit the same sin?
I was really enchanted by this book. Structurally, it reminds of the work of Stuart Dybek, esp. I Sailed with Magellan. Each chapter is really a short story, but they are ordered chronologically, so it can be read like a very loose novel. It's book I think anyone trying to make the jump from story writing to novel writing should check out.
Dean Bakopoulos' debut novel, Please Don't Come Back from the Moon, dives deep into American decline. It's set in a blue collar neighborhood outside Detroit, where 16-year-old Michael experiences the sudden and inexplicable disappearance of his father. Sadly, it isn't an isolated event; other men in the community also vanish, leaving their families to pick up the pieces. The women, initially devastated, adapt and become the heads of households. Meanwhile, Michael and his friends stumble through their twenties, dealing with the same restlessness that seemed to drive their fathers away in the first place.
The novel explores how family and community fall apart when the economy tanks. As jobs disappear, so do the fathers, empty and ashamed of not being able to provide. The women step up as the primary earners, but the community still suffers. Church attendance drops, boys drop out of school, and vices like drinking and drugs become commonplace. The once-bustling downtown now represents the collapse of the American Dream, filled with boarded-up shops, cheap party stores, strip clubs, pawn shops, and check-cashing kiosks.
Bakopoulos captures the deep sense of loss felt by those left behind, especially the fatherless sons. "I know the women missed their husbands, but we, the boys, we missed our fathers." He also highlights the inevitability of disappointment in today's economy. As Michael's father tells him bluntly before disappearing to the moon, "This is the way our lives turn out, Mikey. Disappointing."
Please Don't Come Back from the Moon is a metaphor for the economic changes of the late 20th century, told through the lens of vanished fathers. Globalization and access to foreign markets led to job losses in manufacturing, especially in cities like Detroit. It also increased income inequality and wage stagnation. Since the 1970s, working-class wages have dropped significantly, while the top 20% of earners have assumed the vast majority of the income gains. The novel suggests the traditional role of the working class man has been undermined, leading to a crisis of identity and purpose for the men who once held these roles. This is further highlighted in a scene where Bill Clinton, during a campaign visit to the area, tells a crowd, "Be proud of what you do." The irony is sharp, as it's hard to take pride in work that's disappearing or already gone.
Please Don't Come Back from the Moon is a powerful debut that captures the struggles of a community in decline and the resilience of those who stay when everything else falls apart. Bakopoulos, too, is an author to watch.
A unique, eccentric and dark exploration of the disappointments of adulthood and the dissatisfaction with life.
As a big, big fan of magical realism I'd have been let down in how little fantastical elements there were in this book (based on the description), if the writing and story weren't so compelling. I found a lot of familiarity and connection to Michael's life, especially his Slavic community and their traditions, and growing up with a single mother, and although the narrative is exceptionally male-centric (seriously does nobody in this town have a daughter?) it didn't feel weird or sexist and focused on the important conversations around male mental health and the complicated relationships between boys, and also between them and their fathers. There's a very strong - and good - overarching commentary on the working-class realities and failure of the American Dream that creates vicious generational failings of alcoholism and abandonment that made for a sad but touching read.
I really liked how open-ended the 'moon' was and it was a great analogy as when you're a kid and your parent doesn't live with you, they might as well be on the moon. I wonder if, to some degree, the moon was a metaphor for suicide for some of the fathers considering how depressed and dejected they seemed to feel. The more fantastical ending and return of Tom's father definitely re-ignited my interest in where the men had truly gone.
I thought Michael was a realistic and wonderfully flawed protagonist, and his perspective illustrated what drives some men to abandon their families. Though I will say I wish we had seen more of the mothers and daughters and how their lives had been impacted by their fathers absence - I wanted to hear about the urges the mothers also get to drop everything and run away (because I'm sure they do) and what makes them stay. I also do wish the moon was utilized a bit more, but overall felt it was a very solid, well-written and nicely completed story.
I picked this book up on a whim because of the interesting synopsis and got way more out of it than I expected. A fantastic story of loss and life and living when you’ve lost so much.
I adored this book because of its character driven focus; it’s similar to The Goldfinch in that it follows the aftermath of a cataclysmic event and how it affects this boy, Michael, as he grows into a man. His character is not “perfect;” he’s human and makes mistakes! It makes him understandable and a moving main character. He is tangible in an amazing way.
I also particularly loved the format - it’s written like Michael is looking back on his life and regaling what happened to all the fathers that left. Explaining how life went on without them. It’s incredibly fascinating - or it was for me - to imagine this being a very lengthy set of letters written to those fathers. It feels personal and deep, as if Michael is finally getting some sort of relief by letting all of this out of his system. He’s a very quiet and reclusive guy when it comes to his emotions and this was his outlet for them. Especially as he becomes a father himself and begins to feel similarly to how he thinks his own dad did before leaving - that he was a burden on his family and shouldn’t be there. That the life he had achieved wasn’t what he deserved.
This book handles toxic-masculinity and the intense expectations of men really well by giving a giant peek into how it can feel to be in those positions. How it can lead to depression and intense sadness that shouldn’t be held deep inside to fester; that it’ll only end badly. I’m glad that the ending seemed to imply that Michael is now in a much better headspace.
A great, intense read! I enjoyed it immensely. I’m gonna go hug my father now.
This book was ultimately too real and it hurt me so bad.
The first 50 pages…OUCH. I found myself thinking that this author lived inside my head circa 2011 and used what he heard me thinking as material for this book. This is truly beautiful prose that packs a punch.
Michael’s character was flawed from the start, which is a bold choice for an author to make. You want to root for him but he makes mistakes (like only talking about a woman’s body for pages on end…Dean what was that about). I think making main characters real like that makes a story more impactful.
I loved the overall concept of this book, but I think it started off strong and slowly faltered as time went on. However, the plot was returned to and finished off successfully in my opinion. I would have liked more contemplation on the absent fathers and the effect it has on a person and less on what Holly and Ella’s bodies looked like.
It hurt but that’s what made it so good. Bakopoulos’s imagery was incredibly vivid.
Deadbeat dads and dying towns... what is there for leftover sons to do?
This book opened hauntingly and ended hauntingly, though it sometimes dragged unbearably in between for me. And yes, as much as I liked the ending, the last few lines or so cheapened the mood for me: hey felt a little cheesy, a little forced, like they wanted to hit me over the head with their lofty meaning.
The characters are not always the most likable but they’re realistic and dimensional and at the end of the day I was rooting for them. For them, and Maple Rock, and all the fathers who left for the moon.
Poignant story about a boy's growing up fatherless in a depressed part of Detroit. Fifteen year-old Michael Smolij watches his father, like many others' fathers, silently leave home never to return. They said they had "gone to the moon" - even the local priest went there. Some went after losing their jobs to economic downturn. Others just left. Raw, insightful, and kind, the book describes the path of Mike and his friend Nick after their fathers left.
Very interesting and unique read; never came across anything like this before. It is both a novel which plays with themes of lightness and darkness of being a human being. The narrative is easy, flowing and the same time very heavy. The characters are at times humorous, dark and sometimes both at the same time which is what makes them so relatable. It is difficult to describe such a novel, so just go ahead and give it a go :)
No le tenía mucha fe a este broli, no sé por qué. Hace mucho (años), que lo tengo en mi, cada vez más grande, pila de libros pendientes. No recuerdo de dónde salió, pero seguro que yo no lo compré. Me pareció entretenido, más de lo que sin dudas esperaba. Pero a partir de la mitad se me hizo como que la historia se diluyó un poco, y el final no me gustó tampoco.