Narcissus Nobody

The highly enjoyable debut by the youngest daughter of Richard Yates lands as keen-eyed and poignant, largely thanks to its appealing misfit protagonist, Hope Townsend. The book opens in 1992 in a small California town, where Hope, a music fan in her early 20s, navigates a “non-relationship” with the insufferable Nathan and indulges in comforts such as a Wasted Grave cassette and the guilty pleasures of a book by 1980s conservative self-help guru Brooks Nixon, the permed, schlocky Narcissus of the title. Yates then picks up with Hope in 1999 when she’s working at a psychic hotline. She’s largely friendless, and romantic prospects since Nathan’s departure have dried up, but she enjoys the solitude. A trip to the supermarket gives her an update on Nixon, who now encourages his followers to resist monogamy. Hope becomes fascinated by his transformation (“Sure, he was still a thundering bullshit artist, but at least he had something original to say”), as his outlook dovetails with her own, and eventually the two meet. Not a whole lot happens, but Yates shines with smart, witty prose and painfully accurate descriptions of human awkwardness, such as Hope’s accepting holiday invitations from coworkers—“disasters where she’d sat sullen like a hostage in their noisy homes.” Hopefully Yates will return with more compulsively readable work. (Apr.)