
Through him, Haslett reveals both an encyclopedic knowledge of music (particularly disco, funk, and hip hop) and the ways in which both communal and individual experiences of trauma shape pop culture creations. Michael is one of the funniest characters you’ll encounter this year, even as he slowly slips away from the reader. One of Haslett’s main themes, the reality that we can never truly know another person because we can never truly see another person, is both a damning accusation and an inspiration to see and love better. His observations of family dynamics and dysfunction are as keen as any I’ve ever read. It’s moments of heart-break are alleviated by some of the wittiest humor I’ve recently read. Haslett’s writing is part comedy, part drama, but completely brilliant. More specifically, mother and siblings band together to support Michael, who gradually comes undone. The bulk of Haslett’s novel follows the family’s efforts to care for one another. They move to New England, where, several years later, John commits suicide. They eventually marry and have three children, Michael, Celia, and Alec. When John is hospitalized for “depression” in 1960s London, his fiance Margaret stays by his side. Of all the films, video games, TV series, comics, and books that I’ll consume this year, few will move me as deeply as Adam Haslett’s latest novel, Imagine Me Gone.
