Triburbia

Starred review from June 4, 2012
In this absorbing first novel, Greenfeld (Boy Alone, a memoir) brings to life the capacious lofts, self-involved chefs, and occasional rent control holdouts of Manhattan’s affluent TriBeCa neighborhood (home to Robert De Niro and Jay-Z, among other celebs). Each chapter (titled by local addresses, such as 145 Greenwich, 65 Hudson, and 47 Lispenard) is told from the perspective of a different local character, from the fabulously affluent to the rent control holdouts. Their lives intersect and overlap because their children attend the same school, they’re sleeping with one another’s spouses, or, in Sadie’s case, because she’s the babysitter or, in Cooper’s case, because she’s queen of the fourth grade. Greenfeld’s chameleon-like ease for shifting characters refracts through the distinct language of thought, the emotional underpinnings of choices made, and the ways in which every life feels both unique and familiar, and his female characters are as authentic, if not more so, than the men. The result is a webby world in which details blend, repeat, and sometimes fade, exactly like running into a neighbor at the corner deli and not quite remembering who his brother is or with whom he may have had an affair. Early on, the book feels precariously provincial—beholden to the local jargon of real estate, gourmet food, and the distinctively insane obstacles of New York City public schools. And empathy for rich people, no matter how flawed, can be a tough sell these days. Ultimately, though, Greenfeld wields his critiques, humor, and observations to create a compelling little universe that will matter even to outsiders who don’t know that Lispenard Street will never be as glamorous as Greenwhich St. Agent: Billy Kingsland, Kuhn Projects.

August 1, 2012
A half-dozen fathers in the fashionable environs of Tribeca circa 2008 struggle with regret, ambition, family and secrets on their way to the playground. They're a not-so-diverse group, the guys who populate the first novel by memoirist/journalist Greenfeld (Boy Alone, 2009, etc.). Thrown together by geography, a group of dads commiserate over breakfast, survey their peers for advice and bicker like little old ladies much of the time. They're so universal, in fact, that each chapter identifies each man not by name, but by address. 113 North Moore is the Asian-American sound mixologist who studies his daughters like they're a foreign species. 65 Hudson is the secretive husband who's having an affair with another member's wife. 47 Lispenard is the artist whose "punk puppetry" is now old hat in fast-moving Tribeca. "The hurt was three-fold: the art, the money, the girl," he muses. 57 Warren Street is really the only anomaly in the interconnected stories, starring Rankin, a Jewish gangster who finds his comrades tiresome but serves a vital purpose in their lives. "For most of the men, Rankin also served as the living embodiment of warning," Greenfeld writes. "Of whom you never want to turn to. Of a desperation you hope you will never feel." While the stories are well-composed, the novel is often disjointed, and some characters are so bland as to be nearly unnoticeable--the film producer who frets about neighborhood pedophiles, the playwright whose success the others find unfathomable. And others are oh-so-naughties, as is the case with the story of 85 West Broadway, the memoirist with an autistic son whose flashy stories about Japan and his own drug addiction turn out to be fabrications. It's pretty evident that Greenfeld is mining his life experiences for fiction, but that doesn't give them the ring of truth. It could be challenging for readers to drum up sympathy for wealthy young men with rich world problems. A soapy portrait of pre-economic-crisis Manhattan.

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Starred review from July 1, 2012
Best known for his inquisitive nonfiction, including Boy Alone (2009), about his autistic brother, Greenfeld also writes short stories, a form he adeptly transmutes in his compelling, episodic first novel. A caustic anatomy of a New York neighborhood (the title is a riff on Tribeca) that was once a low-rent haven for artists and then became an enclave for the wealthy and xenophobic, it portrays a group of prosperous guys in their thirties who meet regularly for breakfast. Each is a father who fancies himself arty and edgy but who, like the neighborhood, is becoming increasingly conventional. There's a half-Chinese, half-Caucasian sound engineer married to a well-off, WASPy, pot-smoking magazine editor; a failed sculptor supported by his wife and involved with a woman married to a famous chef; an artist who invented punk puppetry; and a so-called contractor whose business is shady, to say the least. Greenfeld brilliantly illuminates the pecking order and power plays behind the smug facade of this fashionable urban fortress, writing with particularly tender regard for smart kids and besieged women. As Greenfeld subtly ramps up the intensity of his insights and the caliber of his outrage, his sardonic wit sharpens, and his compassion deepens to create a surprising, involving, and strikingly perceptive tale of social and personal metamorphoses.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2012, American Library Association.)