Set during a doom-fated vacation to the Oregon coast, The Disappointment follows a couple trying to hold close to one another while a bent reality—warped by personal losses and an ever-increasing drift toward the surreal—threatens to unravel them
It’s the night before a much-needed vacation, and Jack—a former playwright mourning his failed career—catches his husband, Randy, packing his mother’s urn. They had agreed: no mother on this trip. Parents, living or otherwise, aren’t the ideal guests for romantic getaways. But Randy has been carrying his mother’s remains everywhere since her death, and he isn’t ready to let go now.
Despite its natural beauty and kitschy charm, the Oregon coast does not provide the respite the couple seeks. Instead, their surroundings and encounters with locals grow increasingly surreal as the days pass. An overly -dedicated Method actor, tantra-obsessed neighbors, and a child environmentalist who may be able to communicate with the dead are but a few of the characters whose presence exposes long-simmering tensions that threaten to undo Jack and Randy’s marriage—to say nothing of their hold on reality.
Told with sly, irreverent humor, and shot through with dark currents of envy and longing for something other than what one has, The Disappointment explores the mutual exhilaration and terror of being placed center stage in one’'s own life.
A very special novel that captures the nuances and messiness of relationships, particularly when they're compounded by years of emotional baggage and grief. Jack and Randy are both deeply flawed, yet something about them was so endearing. I also grew particularly fond of the secondary characters who add so much-needed levity to the story. They're vibrant, charming, and delightfully weird.
The plot is comparatively sparse, but the introspection and relationships are so rich — I wanted a bit more of a definitive ending, but this still captured my heart! It's refreshing to see a debut that is so unapologetically raw and unfiltered in its portrayal of relationships. The characters feel distinctly human, and though they seldom make the 'optimal' choices, they're written in such a way that you understand every choice they make. There's so much nuance to Jack and Randy's relationship, and you'll find yourself oscillating between wishing they would split and move on, only to then hope they grow old together. It's complicated.
Something about this feels very fresh and singular. I'm excited to see what Scott Broker writes next! There's a distinct perspective to his stories that drew me in and never quite let me go. --- A book that has the same title as my nickname growing up — feels like destiny! <3
Brilliant. I genuinely feel so devastated to say goodbye to Jack and Randy, and so incredibly moved by this book. Scott writes about grief and desire and all the intricacies of being a human in such a gorgeous and affecting way. And the chapters are titled brilliantly! Looking forward to rereading again and again.
I will be the first to admit, I wasn't expecting to love this. The premise felt a bit slap stick, and the first few pages made me feel like I was on a seesaw between literary fiction, my one true love, and contemporary fiction, something my aunt would pickup at the airport. The writing style is so poseur, much like Jack our MC. So malcontent with his public image in the wake of his own perceived failures, self destructive habits and oppressive success of his husband. Once I settled into the story I felt like I really understood what we were witnessing here. The flaws of each character laid out with dramatic irony only for us to scream into the void as both our MCs failed to heal, or refused to.
Such a strong, strong voice for this debut author, and to paraphrase his own acknowledgements section, a book with an offbeat horniness. I was really captured by these guys, their pains, their stunted capacity for communication, seeming to serve as a direct foil to the depths of their love. I do think the book is not without flaws, I wish there was *something* more with the "lost luggage", but I may need to reflect more on why it simply was. But I loved the snapshot vignettes this story was presented in. It felt so purposeful, like capturing images in time of our characters not unlike the MC does in his successful career as a photographer.
This author is one to watch, I'm giving this 5 starts guys. Can you fucking believe it?
This is Beau is Afraid for gay married men. This book was so cinematic in that each flashback provided a small glimpse into their relationship that gradually helped you understand the dissonance between Jack and Randy. I loved how the small moments in the present were also indicative of how their dissonance still thrives in the present day of their relationship.
I also adored the chemistry between Randy and Jack. They had a banter between them that is relatable for gay couples and felt very lived-in.
This book reminded me of the White Lotus at times with how absurdist and bizarre scenarios can be the greatest teachers. It also reminded me of Happy Together in that you have an omniscient view of these two men and are seeing them attempt to rebuild the puzzle that is their relationship. I’m recommending this book to everyone I know and I’m confident it will be one of my best reads this year.
I can't remember the last book I read where I felt so painfully connected to two characters... To their faults, their desires, their selfishness, their edges. It felt like a beautiful mirror and so unbelievably unlike anything I've read before. Scott is simply a genius. Read this book!!
I thought this was fantastic. I loved the writing in particular — sharp, original, interesting in a way that kept me turning the page just to see what the next line might be.
Broker has a knack for dropping small, piercing observations about human nature, often through minor characters. I’m not an annotator, but in this instance I wish I’d had the foresight to jot down the moments or phrases that made me pause.
There’s a strange, static-cling energy running through the novel that makes it feel as though something almost supernatural might happen at any moment. I found that tension incredibly effective.
Left with lots to think about. Definitely recommend.
This book is very well written, especially with its themes on grief and relationships. But it just didn’t work for me, and I actually ended up skimming the last several chapters. Based on the book summary, and perhaps my own interpretation, I was expecting a thriller Ala “Vivarium” or “Black Tide”, where a couple faces peril or can’t escape from their vacation home. I kept waiting and waiting for something to happen…and it turns out it was just oddball neighbors who take the term “nosy neighbors” to the extreme. It seriously annoyed me how tolerant Randy and Jack were of some of these characters-I’m sorry, call me unkind, but I’m not entertaining someone who sneaks into my vacation home in the middle of the night. I wanted to like this more, and based on all the glowing reviews I’m clearly in the minority. At least this book works for other readers
i can clearly recognise this book as well-written, even as it ultimately didn’t work for me.
Scott Broker writes with undeniable control and emotional intensity. Grief, longing, resentment, and quiet despair spill across the pages, and the prose often feels dense with feeling. the sense of loss hangs over the story from the very beginning. i can absolutely see why many readers admire this novel, and why it resonates so strongly with them. the portrayal of a marriage under strain, shaped by grief and unmet expectations, feels intentional and carefully observed.
however, despite appreciating what the book is doing, it never quite clicked with me on a personal level. the emotions, the situations, and the direction of the plot didn’t spark my interest, and i found myself feeling distant rather than immersed. this may very well be a matter of timing, perhaps i’m simply not at the stage of life where this particular exploration of marriage, grief, and disappointment resonates deeply.
while the novel didn’t hold my attention the way i hoped, i don’t think that diminishes its value. if you’re looking for a quieter read, The Disappointment may be exactly the kind of book that speaks to you.
A challenging read to be sure with themes that are uniquely relatable like moving on from artistic pursuits and navigating a long-term gay relationship. It’s scary how keenly Broker observes the subtle shifts that can occur between two people who essentially know everything about each other. Yet, change, grief throws everything on its axis and sends Jack and Randy on a descent to madness, unraveling everything they ever knew. He surrounds the couple with fascinating characters, rich with humanity, despite the economic storytelling.
As a fan of weird girl lit, I’m always seeking more weird gay lit so I really enjoyed this debut (despite it making my skin crawl at times!!!)
A truly remarkable novel. Both spare and dense, lush and beautiful, sometimes raunchy, often funny, and always true to the heart of human relationship. Highly recommend! (And just an aside, but what about those amazing chapter titles!)
This was a wonderful debut novel and I would highly recommend it.
Jack and Randy are grieving. Jack has decided to quit playwriting and is mourning the loss of his career, while his husband, Randy, has recently lost his mother. Hoping to reconnect with each other in the face of all of this grief, they go on vacation to the Oregon coast.
Broker nails the small slights, little jabs, and minor humiliations that seem to compound exponentially when a relationship is fraying. The scenes between Jack and Randy felt raw and electric, and displayed a kind of interiority and psychological realism that few authors are capable of (a writer like Jonathan Franzen comes to mind).
We lose all sense of realism, though, when the side characters get involved. Much of the couples’ vacation is actually a rather wacky set of encounters with the locals, who are eccentric and over the top (here I think of a writer like Kevin Wilson). We have coffee shop employees who speak as though they are performing on stage, a young girl who is obsessed with recycling and believes she can speak to the dead, a method actor who knocks on the door in the middle of the night “in character,” and even nudist neighbors who invite Jack and Randy over for hot tub conversation and kebabs.
Now, I absolutely love Kevin Wilson and all of the quirkiness he brings to his writing. But in this particular case, I think Broker’s inner Wilson distracted from his inner Franzen! I wonder what the result would be if, next time, Broker were to get rid of all of the wackiness and just trust his core story to carry him through. Still though, a very successful novel.
A really strong debut about grief, aging relationships, and what we keep from each other. All told in a wonderfully witty and irreverent world with eccentric side characters that I thoroughly enjoyed (Paul and Polly were my favorites). I wish we had more books like this; The Disappointment is a truly memorable gem in a sea littered with lackluster, uninterestingly told contemporary books. Can't wait to see what Scott Broker does next.
This was the best book I’ve read in a long long time, I’m sad to say goodbye to the story and the characters that have been captivating me so long. I would hang out with Polly and Paul in a big way. I loved this!!! Everyone should read it!!
After the death of his mother, Randy and his husband Jack try to navigate their relationship through tumultuous grief, betrayal, and identity crises. As their lives begin to harden, latent cracks grow wider when the two go on a vacation where limits are tested and perceptions are altered. With absolute finesse, Broker uses aesthetics and bone dry hilarity to craft a tale of the moral ambiguity of humanity and art. It’s emotional, masochistic, unreliable, and tender all at once. I absolutely loved it.
From the first lines, in which a man packs his mother’s ashes into a suitcase while preparing for a romantic getaway on the Oregon coast with his husband, The Disappointment pulses with an innate sensitivity, humor, and strangeness, unraveling as the couple encounters the offbeat inhabitants of the small town. With each new encounter with the townspeople, a clearer picture of the couple comes into view, drawing an elaborate portrait of their struggles, their art, and the buzzing tension between them. Scott handles these characters with such care and fierce intelligence, mining each encounter with an irreverence and pulling grief into a dexterous, unignorable sadness as the couple drifts back and forth from each other— an invisible, magnetic force keeping them tethered as waves of discontent crash against them.
Scott perfectly captures the liminal state grief conjures and the ripple effects it has on those close to you. The novel descends, spiraling into a surreal pit into which the characters fall.
Broker is clearly a gifted writer with an eye for intimacy, disappointment, and quiet humiliations. But the novel’s surreal gestures and overt metaphors sometimes feel less like revelation than evidence of a first-time novelist still learning to trust the strength of his core drama.
finished a few days ago but then i got sick so i didn’t have it in me to write a review despite taking extensive notes but now i’m almost no longer sick. this book had everything i want in a book. bisexuality……an examination of the impacts of grief on interpersonal relationships and the gaps that emerge when two people don’t grieve the same……surrealism……wacky neighbors……i loved it.
five stars. five stars in much the same way that i gave in tongues five stars a few years ago, because it was delightful and tight. engrossing and treading a well-worn path in a way that still felt fresh and exciting. over the past few years, the debut novelists have been really strong, but have veered into this aloof, abstract mode that doesn’t always land. but this felt like a return to form and a story i’ve been sorely missing for a while — named chapters and dialogue heavy with background characters and metaphors and similies and paradoxes and it moves through real settings and places and times. i felt like i was reading normal things that somehow i haven’t read in a while, small sensory details like sliding doors scraping. while some of the transitions between those things could read clunky in places, there was a tweet recently about how non-writers should try writing someone merely going into and getting out of a room and scott broker can really get a person into and out of a room and that’s a serious skill.
the rhythm of the prose sounded good, like it should be read out loud like a bedtime story. it would dip its toe into the surreal and then right itself and then dip back in more noticeably until suddenly you were on the descent. i loved how many metaphors and paradoxical thoughts and contradicting sentences there were, all overlapping or crammed next to each other, each fighting for its own space and consideration. it added to the surreal quality of the text by feeling so immaterial and casual, just part of the fabric of this story and its players.
much of this book is about strangeness itself, strange places and people and conversations and familiar things becoming strange to you or to others, strange things becoming familiar, the strange and ever changing nature of love. i don’t know if i’ve ever really read about the mundanities and regular rhythms of marriage between two people who love each other but are just kind of in a rut. the stuff i am typically drawn towards is so warped or dark or designed to spark commentary and i appreciated just watching two people try to figure it out.
and i related deeply to jack, someone who has everything going for him but does nothing at all, as a girl who is hot and intelligent and has everything going for me but i do nothing and experience dickensian orphan-level bad luck. i related to his relationship to his parents, and their overlooked dynamic, and their inarticulable distance from each other. they’re aware they should be different and more but no one is able to navigate to something better. that portrait of ambivalence feels rare. love and hate are easy to capture, tepid waters are not.
and jack’s overall problem, if you can say he has just one overarching problem, is inherently relatable, i think: how do you move through life when your very concept of self does not feel defined, much less seen or validated? how do you relate to yourself when it feels like others and even your closest loved ones cannot understand or relate to you and your depths? what happens when everyone around you can succeed, and your life stays mired in the disappointing circumstances you’ve always and only ever known? when i take a step back and think about my own life i am often confronted with the reality that i pulled the short straw in the grand scheme of things, that someone else got the right side of the wishbone, that objectively, i have not had an easy life. no one i know or love seems capable of understanding this in the day to day. and then what?
in that same vein i don’t think this is book About Queerness but it is when you take an understanding of queerness as alienation and disembodiment, feelings of otherness or being outside or adjacent to “normal life.” my one wish is that it had devolved more noticeably and packed the emotional punch as it did, because the end was so fascinating. it had a campfire quality to it, like watching a play at summer camp or sleeping bags under the stars and shushing the girls around you so you can fall asleep on the hot tennis court grounds, there’s a really mystical and youthful mood.
terrific! may many more stories take after its offbeat, horny, and generous mode.
side note, jack’s “new play” was so similar to sondheim’s final musical Here We Are that i was like huh. but i loved here we are and felt really grateful i got to see it. i feel grateful for stories like this! and to call scott an acquaintance, if i may be so bold. and it was funny as shit like it got real chuckles out me i made sounds i didn't just do a big sniff.