RaveTimes Literary Supplement (UK)Wayne Koestenbaum’s absorbing new novel promises sex and Judaism, and it certainly delivers on the sex ... Filled with lush descriptions of men’s bodies ... At times, the novel’s ambiguity can feel like mere directionlessness. But Koestenbaum sticks the landing with a kicker that, echoing the closing lines of Toni Morrison’s Jazz, suggests that the only way forwards for his narrator is the writing of the novel itself.
