I suppose some would regard A Beginner’s Guide to Free Fall as merely a work of fiction and suggest that my virtual “shelving” of the book as “literature” is either nescient or pretentious. Nonetheless, this novel is full of human insight with cleverly crafted phrases, similes, and metaphors. I didn’t simply read it because the idea of an amusement park design engineer coping with things in his life going terrible wrong (not all of his own making) was interesting, but I enjoyed the cleverness of the writing. Well, there was one point in the book where, if I’d had the hard copy instead of the eBook, I would have thrown it across the room. I don’t care how cliché that sounds. I was angry at Andy Abramowitz for not only kicking one of his co-protagonists while he was down but kicking him back down just as he started to rise. The truth is that this book is amazingly honest about life and personalities, and I must confess that as a sentimental old man, there was more than one place that put tears in my eyes.
Along the way, I chuckled at a comment about a “Tokyo Escort” (I had to look it up and discover it was apparently a call girl without sexual consummation—or, at least, supposed to be). I chuckled because the term, along with “Grandma-for-Rent” (nothing kinky here, but training for senior adults to learn about child care for families where both parents work), was supposed to be advertised in one of those ad-dependent local Baltimore papers and both are foreign concepts (p. 22). The female co-protagonist, Molly, writes for this local paper and there is a major story arc around her crisis at a failing business and dealing with an unexpected turnaround and highly foreshadowed catharsis. Somehow, it seemed very clear to me where the Molly story was going, but not the Davis story intertwined with it. The Davis story begins with an amusement park accident which trebles into a career crisis and metamorphosizes into a marital crisis and identity crisis. Of course, along the way there are interpersonal entanglements that add to the sense of “free fall” to which the author was referring in his use of the term as word play in the novel’s title.
But, oh, the interesting phrases, descriptions, and insights! In describing a life insurance salesman the engineer disliked: “I am a death in the making to this guy, Davis always thought. A hunk of cheese with a hint of mold. With his feathered blond hair and a sort of pampered, Ken-doll handsomeness,…
How about the music flowing out of a bar? “The music an unlikely coupling of psychedelic Pink Floyd–esque soundscapes and jazzy electric piano reminiscent of a Peanuts special. It’s The Dark Side of the Moon, Charlie Brown…” (p. 143). At one point, “Molly felt like a can of soda that somebody kept shaking but refused to open.” (p. 331) Davis’ description of the life of a poet is not so flattering. “They go through women like it earns them miles, and they all end up depressed and suicidal.” (p. 374).
With a bit of wisdom and a bit of “play,” Davis asks a barman in a pub called “Finnegan’s Wake” if said publican is the eponymous Finnegan. “The man winked and said, “We’re all Finnegan.” Davis wasn’t sure whether he meant it as a glib statement about race—all Irish tapsters are Finnegan—or a more philosophical appraisal of humanity, like, Let’s face it, each of us, in some respect, is Finnegan. Am I right or am I right?” (p. 43) When suddenly confronted with a stressful decision, Molly’s boss tells her, “’The best and the worst things in life are sudden, Ms. Winger. Everything else takes too damn long,’ Richard said.” (p. 202) Interesting existential perspective, no? I also liked Molly’s father’s counsel when she was faced with her feelings of inadequacy. “’Listen to me, Molly Erin, and listen good. We’re all terribly unsure of ourselves, each one of us tunneling toward something strange. But you—you are nobody’s shadow. And even if you were, a shadow does not belong to the thing that casts it.’” (pp. 236-237) I’m not entirely convinced of that anymore than I was convinced when my Dad, who was amazingly sparing of praise when I was younger, introduced me as the “block off an old chip.” Yet another personal, emotional touchstone pressed by this novel.
One of my favorite bits of wisdom came in Davis’ protest to an accusation from a teenager he was voluntarily tutoring in physics. “’I’m not a diva. I’m just a guy who knows that sometimes in life you have to settle for the moral victory. Those tend to come along more often than actual victories.’” (p. 260) Don’t worry, I’m not reprinting all of the jewels here and I’m not going to tell you what moving, tearful moments I experienced or why I would have thrown a physical book across the room at one point. Before mentioning the one negative I observed in the story (though it is filled with intriguing coincidences), let me give you one last word of wisdom, shared between brother and sister, co-protagonists: “’Until further notice, it’s never too late.’” (p. 378)
There are a few disconnected aspects of the story. For example, Davis Winger (the engineer) has an ongoing interaction with the manager of his apartment complex who has hired him to be the lifeguard of the apartment complex’s pool. At one point, the manager leaves the apartment complex, but Andy Abramowitz doesn’t explain anything about an understanding with a new manager. Also, Davis is breaking one of the apartment rules. The first manager is willing to turn a blind eye to the infraction but there is no hint as to how this would be handled by the unmentioned (but ostensibly present) next manager. There is also a supporting character with an Italian name who isn’t given closure. And it is only these miniscule loose ends that keep me from giving A Beginner’s Guide to Free-Fall the full five (5) stars.