In the pre-Holidays shivering New York City, an unnamed comms professional navigates life with a fractured heart, spooked by the untimely death of his father. Desperate to fill the void, he entertains his ego by burying himself in work, womanizing, and harboring immense despise against society.
But when a tantalizing job offer brings the roaring winds of change, he’s forced to contemplate his life achievements and personal values as ghouls of his past come back haunting.
His journey to Los Angeles, California, to reconnect with his estranged mother becomes a catalyst for emotional upheaval, rubbing salt into barely-healed wounds. It exposes the lie he’s been living—a facade he’s maintained for his own sake, too.
As he grapples with the weight of his unresolved grief, he finds hope in the faux effigy of a female friend while he swerves toward the brink of despair. When he learns his love is unrequited, he starts seeing his life from a new perspective and discovers his resilience to confront his demons and embrace a new dawn.
Dead Man’s Son is a poignant yet witty exploration of loss, redemption, and the search for identity and love in a world that often feels indifferent and alienating. The compelling, oft-philosophical narrative, filled with universal literary metaphors and motifs, captures the tumultuous journey of a man on the cusp of self-discovery as he reluctantly confronts the past and internalizes the promise of a brighter future. But does he deserve the silver lining?
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Quote from the book
“After the wake, when everyone left, my Mom hugged me. She had tears under her eyes, and I wiped them with my thumbs, feeling ashamed as my nails were black with dirt that must’ve gotten there when I threw ground on my father’s coffin. Why the fuck do people do that anyway? It looks cool in movies. Probably, there’s a reason for it. I should Google it one day. Whatever. My Mom went home after, and I went back to college, and if I think about it, that’s the last time I saw my own Mom. My real Mom, to be precise. The Mom that I used to know.”
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GENRE: Upmarket Literary / Contemporary Fiction
WORDCOUNT: 60,000+
But how does the book read?
You have the voice of Salinger’s Holden as an adult, Kunzru-esque use of reported speech, Joycean stream of consciousness, and Heathcliff’s self-destructive, burning rage. The reader will feel squeezing pressure before humor acts as a release valve.
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Chris Kenn 