Night Night Fawn
A Novel
-
-
4.5 • 2 Ratings
-
-
- $13.99
Publisher Description
From the author of Confessions of the Fox comes a novel in which a yenta on her deathbed gives an unrepentant account of all her failures—including her child.
“A rant of comedic genius . . . [Jordy Rosenberg] writes with an enchanting command of language and satire.”—Melissa Broder, The New York Times Book Review
In a cluttered rent-controlled apartment in the middle of Manhattan, Barbara Rosenberg is terminally ill, high on opioids, and writing the story of her life. She has opinions about her smutty late husband, her career as the receptionist for a disreputable plastic surgeon, her glory days as an accomplished jazzerciser, and her failed aspirations to be a film noir actress. But what she really wants to talk about are unhinged thoughts on gender, Karl Marx, Zionism, and her two great disappointing loves: an estranged trans son and a long-lost best friend whose betrayal haunts Barbara still. As she descends further into delirium and illness, Barbara finds herself in a nightmare from which she cannot escape, and her circumstances put her on a crash course with these intimates—or are they avenging nemeses?—once again.
Part novel, part someone’s mother’s unauthorized memoir—all diatribe, gutter schtick, and deranged manifesto, Night Night Fawn is a ferociously candid account of intergenerational conflict.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Rosenberg's incendiary sophomore novel marks a departure from his historical debut, Confessions of the Fox. Here readers are transported not to the 18th century but to a "shrunken little apartment" on the Upper East Side, where self-described "yenta" Barbara Rosenberg is living out her final days. Blitzed on OxyContin, Barbara addresses "my confession, my apology, my prayer" to German philosopher Karl Marx, "god of impossible things" and the idol of her estranged trans son, whom she named Jordana after the Zionist warrior heroine of the 1960 film Exodus. As a child in the 1970s and '80s, Jordana resisted the trappings of femininity pushed by Barbara, defiantly wearing combat boots and his father's corduroy blazer. Throughout the novel, Barbara stubbornly refers to Jordana as her "daughter," and views him as "the biggest disappointment of my life." Rosenberg crafts his satirical portrayal of Barbara's transphobia with a dizzying blend of broad humor and vitriol (Barbara calls Jordana a "golem of upside-down gender"). Barbara's dismissiveness of Jordana's gender and sexuality can be painful to read, but her voice is consistently arresting, and a shocking final twist will cause readers to reexamine everything that came before. It's a memorable familial reckoning.
