Ant loves funerals. He doesn’t have family left, so when he goes to funerals, he no longer fixates on the deceased. Instead, he’s fascinated by the minute observations of each spectacle: “The whole show—the bouquets and black-out drapes, the living room chapels, the organs droning out dirges to drum machine beats, the discount casket coupons thumbtacked by the phone, padlocked basement door—none of it is morbid, to me, anymore.”
Some old patterns do hold up, but flimsily. Ant and Vince relate most when ribbing each other and engaging in playful physical violence, like they did when they were young. The book’s exploration of toxic masculinity comes through the combination of a conversational tone and carefully constructed description, which are restrained by emotional repression. Complicated emotions are packaged into quick-moving small talk. In their first conversation in person in years, Vince tells Ant, “We think you’re embarrassed by us. We think you’re ashamed.” When Ant asks who “we” means and why he’s bringing it up, he responds, “Just making conversation. We got a ways to go still and I thought—what better time to drill down to the heart of things?”
