Sep 25

Sep 25 Abundance

Author: Jakob Guanzon
Publisher: Graywolf Press
Goodreads | The StoryGraph

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Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.

Cover Description

A wrenching debut about the causes and effects of poverty, as seen by a father and son living in a pickup

Evicted from their trailer on New Year’s Eve, Henry and his son, Junior, have been reduced to living out of a pickup truck. Six months later, things are even more desperate. Henry, barely a year out of prison for pushing opioids, is down to his last pocketful of dollars, and little remains between him and the street. But hope is on the horizon: Today is Junior’s birthday, and Henry has a job interview tomorrow.

To celebrate, Henry treats Junior to dinner at McDonald’s, followed by a night in a real bed at a discount motel. For a moment, as Junior watches TV and Henry practices for his interview in the bathtub, all seems well. But after Henry has a disastrous altercation in the parking lot and Junior succumbs to a fever, father and son are sent into the night, struggling to hold things together and make it through tomorrow.

In an ingenious structural approach, Jakob Guanzon organizes Abundance by the amount of cash in Henry’s pocket. A new chapter starts with each debit and credit, and the novel expands and contracts, revealing the extent to which the quality of our attention is altered by the abundance—or lack thereof—that surrounds us. Set in an America of big-box stores and fast food, this incandescent debut novel trawls the fluorescent aisles of Walmart and the booths of Red Lobster to reveal the inequities and anxieties around work, debt, addiction, incarceration, and health care in America today.

TL;DR Review

Abundance is a book that accomplishes exactly what it sets out to — humbling and frustrating, it’s an empathetic look inside the trap of poverty in America today. I think you should read it.

For you if: You are willing to be uncomfortable in order to have your eyes opened a little wider.

Full Review

I read Abundance after it was longlisted for the 2021 National Book Award for Fiction. I probably wouldn’t have heard of it or picked it up otherwise, but I’m glad I did. I’m also glad it’s being recognized, particularly by the NBA, because Jakob Guanzon has written a humbling, frustrating, deeply modern American novel.

The book is about a man named Henry, a formerly incarcerated single dad who is currently living out of his pickup truck with his young son. It starts on his son’s birthday, which he celebrates with a carefully budgeted trip to McDonald’s and a stay in a motel with a real bed and bathtub. Things are looking up because Henry has a job interview the next day. But then his son springs a fever and starts to worsen, and Henry has to desperately grasp for control, optimism — and enough money to eat, get to his interview, and help his son. Throughout the book, we also jump backward in time to learn about Henry’s adolescence, start to his family, struggle with drugs, incarceration, and eventual homelessness.

Henry is a wildly imperfect protagonist (which is its own important narrative choice), but you can’t help but root for him. Even though he’s often made bad choices, he’s deeply human and trying so hard to do right by his son, build something, and just get through the day. And so this novel does exactly what it sets out to do — reading it is a frustrating, humbling experience. You have the sense that if Henry could only catch one single break, he’d be able to get a handle on things and be okay. And you remember this is the lived reality for so many people stuck in the cycle of poverty in the US, and you remember that so many of them never do catch a break, and they live in this state of constant stress every day; it doesn’t get to end after 250 pages that cover two days.

And then there’s the brilliant structural choice to organize the books into chapters named for the amount of money Henry has in his pocket at any given moment, underscoring that number’s tenuous, constant presence at the front of his mind — how critical it is to his existence, how he is never allowed to forget it.

If you have a roof over your head and food in your refrigerator and the ability to buy your children Advil when they are sick, this book will force you to remember and sit with that privilege.

I will be thinking about the end of this one for a really, really long time.