GOD'S POCKET by Peter Dexter

I heard about this book in March of '20 over at Billy Penn's "10 underrated Philly books to devour in the quarantine era". I'm convinced the cover designer didn't read the book or jacket copy — worst book cover ever.

Anyway, I give this 1983 novel three out of five stars. Even though it's set in a South Philly neighborhood, it reminds me of people I grew up with, especially in high school, with kids coming from Fishtown and Port Richmond. Dexter nailed Philly's white working class back then . . . . how they only leave the neighborhood for work, and how row homes are passed down from parents to children.

A couple complaints:

• The newspaper columnist, Richard Shellburn, seemed unbelievable. Even back in the '80s, I don't believe columnists had their own offices (my impression is they were all thrown in the bullpen), and they weren't as popular as Dexter makes Shellburn out to be. Maybe back in the mid-20th century that was the case, but by the '80s, TV had captured the public's imagination. I dunno, part of the reason it irritated me is because newspapers are now on hospice. Dexter made a decent living working for newspapers during the end of its golden age, and he seems to shit on the institution. Guess I shouldn't be surprised because Dexter strikes me as a self-centered opportunist.
• There was forced plotting with Mickey. I was confused for a long time why the dead body of his stepson, Leon, was in the funeral home's backyard. And it struck me as absurdly unrealistic when Mickey was selling his truck, and the potential buyer took it for a drive, with Mickey chasing it on foot, and the truck getting into an accident.

Nonetheless, it's a good novel. Nice way to spend a week. I probably won't read anything else by Dexter. Will be interesting to see if any of the novel stays with me, or if I'll forget all about it like a paint-by-numbers mystery yarn.

Leon said Cheryl was a flight attendant for U.S. Air and lived in the Northeast, which Mickey recognized for the classiest thing Leon could make up.

p. 15

To get an idea how big Philadelphia was, all you had to do was go to the Northeast and try to find a street sign. Going the the Northeast was like going the hospital, you forget all the little things they do to you, you forgot how slow time moves until you're there again.

p. 139