The fatherhood book is a weird thing. They’re either trite and cheesy beyond description, or filled with horror. And, typically, the fathers themselves aren’t the ones writing about being dads; it’s the sons or daughters who have penned memoirs about their smooth and/or shaky orbits around the paternal suns.
Michael Chabon’s Pops: Fatherhood in Pieces, though, breaks that mold. It’s funny and sincere, self-depricating and appreciative. Chabon’s book is a series of essays, small takes on various aspects of his life as a dad, and each one focuses beautifully anecdotes that Chabon deftly applies to fatherhood writ large. The opening essay recalls a conversation Chabon had with a writer he admired, and the “don’t have kids” advice that Chabon ignored, and his (relative) lack of regret thereof. From there, Chabon takes us to Paris Fashion Week with his son Abe, a young man whose obsession with fashion is organic and encouraged by his dad, whose own fashion sense is admittedly lacking. Watching a baseball game with his daughter brings about memories of his own lackluster little league career, mirrored by his son, and from there he explores the complex relationships between family, memory, and sports.
Pops is a short book—127 pages. Stylistically, it matches Chabon’s novels (I loved Moonglow) with its quick pace and attention to detail that doesn’t detract from the flow of the narrative. If your dad’s the introspective type, come grab a signed copy for Father’s Day.
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