Night Night Fawn

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. Agent: Rob McQuilkin, Massie McQuilkin & Altman. (Mar.)