GOING DUTCH

A directionless grad student finds himself at the center of a bisexual love triangle in debut novelist Gregor’s charmingly melancholy Brooklyn rom-com.

At 29, Richard’s life seems to be in a state of suspended animation. He’s supposed to be finishing a Ph.D. in medieval Italian literature, except that he hasn’t actually written much of anything in months. As a result, “all his efforts at maintaining a long-cultivated identity of academic competence and dependable accomplishment had taken on an air of pointlessness.” (Also, his funding is in danger.) His personal life isn’t faring much better. Dating, in New York, is an endless stream of profiles and messages and drinks and promises to be in touch after and very few actual relationships. And it is a combination of these two factors—Richard’s general loneliness and specific state of acute academic crisis—that leads him to forge an increasingly complicated relationship with Anne, a fellow doctoral student. Brilliant, rich, and clearly attracted to Richard despite the ongoing obstacle of his being gay, Anne offers to help him salvage his academic career, and in the process, their relationship intensifies into something more. And then, on a dating app, Richard meets Blake, and if their romance gets off to a rocky start, it quickly mellows into a serious relationship. On paper, at least, Blake is perfect: a kind, successful lawyer ready to build a future with Richard. Except that Richard is also involved with Anne, who is sensitive and hyperanalytical and—for reasons that defy rational explanation but make intuitive sense—accepts him completely. Of course, per the rules of the genre, Richard’s double life must come crashing down, which it does, spectacularly, leaving him to begin the process of addressing the general state of his life. A deeply kind novel—all three characters are rich and complicated and human—Gregor’s plot is less interesting than his biting observations of modern urban life. (He’s especially good on the complicated dynamics of money; it's rare to find a novel that so accurately captures the constant, low-grade anxiety around who can afford what.)

A familiar plot gets a sharp millennial makeover.