Scan barcode
rakoerose's review against another edition
4.0
When I was sixteen, my father went to the moon.
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.
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.
njrossi's review against another edition
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Sad
laurenmckane's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
alaiyo0685's review against another edition
4.0
I grabbed this book a while back because the title intrigued me. I'm glad I got around to reading it eventually. It's a sad but well-written tale of a struggling small town in Michigan, the aftermath of family abandonment, how we go through and grow through trauma, and how we come to understand the choices our parents made.
helpfulsnowman's review against another edition
5.0
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.
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.
kricketa's review against another edition
3.0
i really enjoyed the writing style and detroit setting of this book. i am not sure i quite...got the plot with the disappearing men. i hope to have a jolly discussion about this with my book club on thursday, after which i will be filled with insight and can write a better review.
nefelipele's review against another edition
hopeful
informative
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
mrssoule's review against another edition
3.0
This is the story of a factory-dependent suburb of Detroit where the jobless adult males begin disappearing one by one until they've all left. The remaining women and children refer to the men as having gone to the moon and learn to reorder their lives without husbands and fathers. The desertions have a devastating affect on the male youth who must become men much too quickly and without examples of any kind. I found the book depressingly accurate in its portrayal of the Michigan economy, yet too unstructured to really be captivating.
rebus's review against another edition
0.25
Dean was an assistant manager at a used bookstore attached to a coffeehouse where I was the manager. He was probably still in grad school at the time, and the whole operation was owned by the wife of a surgeon, a rich, elitist dilettante who was running a $100,000 per year deficit due to hiring dipshits like Dean (other than the delightful Tara, that was true of the entire staff at Canterbury Booksellers, which also featured the bigger money loser upstairs: a twee book themed B and B).
I found this while browsing in a used bookstore a few years later and was pleased to find that he was an even bigger dipshit than I first thought!
I found this while browsing in a used bookstore a few years later and was pleased to find that he was an even bigger dipshit than I first thought!