“PLAYWORLD” by Adam Ross (Knopf, 528 pages, $29).
Griffin Hurt’s name is a misnomer. The protagonist of Adam Ross’ new novel, “Playworld,” Griffin has a loving family, attends a tony Manhattan prep school and, as the star of a television show, possesses distinction among his peers. He’s handsome, talented and popular; if his grades aren’t stellar, who can blame him? Griffin confronts questions common to 15-year-olds — Who am I? Who will love me? – but he does so from a privileged foundation.
Plus, he’s living in the world’s greatest city at a time, 1980-81, when its gritty allure hasn’t been sanitized and Disneyfied. Ross, the editor of The Sewanee Review, offers impressions of New York that recall Nick Carraway’s sensing the city’s emanation of “non-olfactory money.” Young Griffin, crossing back into Manhattan from Long Island, “caught glimpses” of high-rise “luxurious apartments.”
“They were each a promise of some greater future in which you might revel in height, in roominess,” Griffin says. “Even now, when I find myself returning to New York after a long absence, I feel that same thrill.” He and younger brother Oren and their friends roam the midtown streets like young lords, “living in our tiny world on that infinite little island.”
Though Griffin’s life is charmed, he still finds himself in baffling situations. The relationship between his artistic parents — mother Lily a dancer, father Shel an actor — appears to be intimate (Shel buys Lily lingerie for Christmas), yet their daily lives are separate and their emotional turmoil inscrutable. “Why does Mom sometimes slur her words at night?” Griffin wants to ask his father. “Why does Mom say none of your friends are her friends?” Feeling lingering guilt about causing a fire that destroyed their apartment years ago, Griffin sees a therapist but makes little progress. “Playworld” illustrates the truth that one gains wisdom only by making one’s own mistakes. By that measure, Griffin is on the path to true profundity.