In Duffy’s sequel to Stockboy (2013), Phillip Doherty works at a novelty store again and feels torn between the East and West coasts—and between two different women.
As this novel opens, Phillip is despondent. His second book was a critical success but a commercial failure and he and his fiancee, Melissa, are having relationship problems, in part, due to financial strain. She works tenaciously at her job, but Phillip struggles to find a position. He eventually resigns himself to working, again, as a stockboy at Milton’s World of Fun—this time in San Diego instead of New York. As the pressures of everyday life build, Phillip finds himself looking at online-dating websites and becomes enamored with a teacher named LeAnn Kennedy. Melissa and Phillip soon agree to separate, and Phillip then decides to drive to New York to start his life over despite Californian LeAnn’s romantic overtures. Almost as soon as Phillip arrives, an unnamed virus strikes the country, causing closures and layoffs in the city and elsewhere. Lonely Phillip finds his heart pulled back to San Diego by both Melissa and LeAnn. Duffy traverses a lot of ground in this novel. By effectively setting the action duringthe current Covid-19 pandemic, Duffy offers intriguing insights into the plight of workers deemed essential or nonessential as well as the measures businesses take as they struggle to stay afloat. However, the prose feels flabby and polemic. Characters discuss how the country has become a “stockboy nation” because, as Phillip says, “We’re a bunch of people peddling items other people created to make money to survive.” The repetition cements Duffy’s point but does nothing to develop the argument further. The dialogue is often stilted and unnecessarily expository, and although Duffy provides glimpses of Melissa’s and LeAnn’s inner lives, the focus largely remains on Phillip, who’s often passive and indecisive. When Phillip receives a visit in the latter part of the novel, it’s a pleasant surprise, but it doesn’t affect him very much as a character.
An uninspired snapshot of the country’s current moment.