The award-winning author of The Boy Who Went Away, Now You See Him, and The Face Thief reads from Best Boy, his new novel about autism, memory, and redemption.
A short documentary film featuring Gottlieb's brother, the model for the protagonist of Best Boy, will be screened at the start of the reading.
Introduced by Bradford Morrow and followed by a Q&A, the event takes place at 2:30 p.m. in Weis Cinema, Bertelsmann Campus Center, and is free and open to the public; no tickets or reservations are required.
PRAISE FOR BEST BOY
“Raw and beautiful with a mesmerizingly rhythmic narration. What rises and shines from the page is Todd Aaron, a hero of such singular character and clear spirit that you will follow him anywhere. You won’t just root for him, you will fight and push and pray for him to wrest control of his future. You will read this book in one sitting or maybe two, and you will miss this man deeply when you are done.” —Washington Post
“Fascinating. Gottlieb's imaginings of what's going on in the mind of an adult living somewhere on the autism spectrum feel credible and real. Lyrical.” —Chicago Tribune
“I've fallen in love with Best Boy, touched by its delicacy and fearless truths.” —Cynthia Ozick
“Arresting. The book’s empathy is bracing.” —New Yorker
“An eloquent, sensitive rendering of a marginalized life. Gottlieb merits praise for both the endearing eloquence of Todd's voice and a deeply sympathetic parable that speaks to a time when rising autism rates and long-lived elders force many to weigh tough options.” —Kirkus Reviews, Starred Review
“The latest from Gottlieb is written through the perspective of Todd: his voice is spectacular, oscillating between casual and obsessive and frequently challenging the stereotypes that haunt those with autism and similar conditions. Gottlieb’s attention to crafting Todd’s internal monologue is something to behold.” —Publishers Weekly, Starred Review
“Best Boy is a remarkable achievement—an intimate and convincing portrayal of what the world looks like from inside the mind of a mentally handicapped but unusually sensitive, observant, and decent man.” —Alison Lurie
Edited by Bradford Morrow
Edited by Bradford Morrow
January 14, 2020
We found the laptop in Cressey’s round room. It was black, thin, light as wood, and belonged to Dr. Marcus, the man who came on to me once, the one who smokes dope in the eaves, the philologist or psychologist. I can’t get these “terms” straight in my head anymore, what with these drugs they feed us. The afternoon pills, especially.
January 7, 2020
We turn the floodlights on the actors, extras in one of the world’s great short stories, surprising them mid-escapade, nocturnal animals caught playing dress up with our clothing, our fanciest possessions. Pearl choker on a possum, suit jacket on a raccoon. A skunk, a lynx, two tubby foxes moonlighting as twin nephews or as young men dating our daughters.
December 17, 2019
Though we mocked Dad mercilessly, our mocking was such as to lead him on convincingly. Dad! There is hope for you if, say, you are struck by lightning. So often did he sulk out on the balcony that he did seem to be inviting a strike. Or a stumble.
Housing Works Bookstore Cafe & Bar Celebrates the New Earth Elegies Issue
Thursday, January 30, 2020
7:00 pm – 8:00 pm
Housing Works Bookstore Cafe & Bar, 126 Crosby St., New York, NY 10012