ROSCOE

In Gregor’s second novel, a curmudgeonly self-described “lucky homeless dude” unexpectedly lands in some very unusual situations.

The story is narrated by former architect Roscoe Follman, who’s currently without a place to live, during 12 continuous hours in February 2025 in San Francisco. As he moves through the “godforsaken city” of San Francisco, he has a chance encounter with German tourists Hans and Sabine that catalyzes a surreal sequence of events. Roscoe is catapulted into social media fame when he performs CPR on Hans, who’s badly injured in a traffic accident caused by Roman Drummond, the son of the manager of California’s largest hedge fund. Roscoe’s lifesaving act, captured on bystanders’ cameras, goes viral, and he’s invited to participate in an interview for KRON4 TV. After much upscale wining and dining on Sabine’s tab, she persuades him to accept the invitation. When they arrive at the KRON4 TV building, its premises are swarming with police; after a shocking turn of events, Roscoe’s condition remains ambiguous at the novel’s end. For much of the story, the protagonist’s wandering narration creates a kind of embodiment of anticapitalism. Gregor risks alienating readers, though, with pedantically self-righteous narrative interludes in which Roscoe addresses a second-person “you,” who only emerges as his “alter ego” and “imaginary friend” much later. These passages needlessly slacken the pace and are far less entertaining than Roscoe’s first-person speculations, flashbacks, and observations, which can be compelling. It’s all presented as one continuous ramble, rendered accessible through clipped sentences. Roscoe’s disgruntled F-bomb overkill at the start of the day is gradually replaced by language of greater equilibrium as the day progresses: “It’s flanked by important-looking buildings: glass and steel, the language of modern architecture.” The gradual profanity ceasefire seems connected to Roscoe’s ambiguous statement of authority in the novel’s concluding utterance: “This is America, after all. This is America.”

An often engrossing page-turner, despite a few unnecessary detours and a distinct lack of closure.