Book Review: How to Talk to a Widower by Jonathan Tropper

Jonathan Tropper has carefully carved himself a niche, and that niche is a depiction of grief that is somehow both poignant and peppered with hilarity.  I didn't think such a combination stood a chance at succeeding until I read Tropper's 2011 novel, This is Where I Leave You, and even then I thought it must be a piece of stand-alone genius, that Tropper must be a brand new voice, perhaps even a one-hit wonder.  So imagine my surprise when I picked up How to Talk to a Widower by pure chance at the library and discovered that this particular brand of brilliantly witty tragedy is something Tropper has been perfecting for years.

In How to Talk to a Widower we meet Doug, the titular widower (try saying that three times fast), a man who, at age 29, was hardly expecting to find himself lost in the aftermath of his wife's tragic demise and struggling to simply function in a world that has kept on turning without him.  Doug's family appears on the scene, an integral part of his mourning process and a wonderfully dysfunctional group who are themselves walking a tightrope between support for and frustration with their wayward relative.  Doug's twin sister Claire is especially charming in a sardonic fashion, convinced she can kick her brother's ass right out of his funk while simultaneously dealing with her own crumbling marriage.  But by far the best supporting player is Doug's rebellious teenage stepson Russ, who falls seamlessly into dual roles as both the child in need of guidance and a uniquely understanding friend with whom Doug can commiserate.

What is most impressive about this book, though, is the journey we take within Doug's mind, guided by a tortured narration that is devastatingly real.  Doug spends huge amounts of time obsessing over the details of his wife's death, over memories that are more significant than ever in the wake of his loss.  He even writes a regular column for the magazine he works at, examining his experience and almost inadvertently sharing the feelings he tries to suppress; and while this might sound over-the-top, it adds yet another layer to the intricate portrait of a man in transition, a man who must navigate a new world without the person he had come to rely on to guide him.

For anyone who's lost someone, and even for those who haven't, this book is a must-read.  Tropper's insights may emerge from unexpected places but they ring all the more true for it.