What to say about Washington native Michael Chabon’s brilliant
    new novel, Telegraph Avenue? It’s gritty and nostalgic. It’s
    about race, music, fathers and sons, forgiveness and progress. Its
    literary influences include Zadie Smith and William Faulkner, to name just
    a couple. It’s fresh, it’s splendidly American, and it might be the best
    novel of 2012.
There’s more going on in Telegraph Avenue than can be
    touched on in this space, but here’s the gist: During the waning summer
    days of 2004, two families—the Stallings and the Jaffes—are living in a
    neighborhood in East Bay, California, where Archy Stallings and Nat Jaffe
    own and operate Brokeland Records, a store offering “unlimited supplies of
    music and bullshit on tap.”
Brokeland is already struggling when Gibson “G Bad” Goode,
    chairman of Dogpile Recordings and “the fifth richest black man in
    America,” threatens to deliver the coup de grace with the opening of his
    new mall—a Dogpile “Thang”—featuring a store that will carry cheap CDs and
    a full selection of “vintage vinyl recordings of jazz, funk, blues, and
    soul.” But things get tricky when Archy, whose father is an old
    blaxploitation kung fu film star from the neighborhood, learns that he
    shares more with G Bad than his entrepreneurial spirit. Meanwhile, the
    Brokeland duo’s wives, who run a natural-birthing practice, create a set
    of their own problems with a botched delivery. And their kids—well, the
    kids are growing up. Fast.
Chabon—who won a Pulitzer Prize in 2001 for The Amazing
    Adventures of Kavalier & Clay and is appearing at George Mason
    University’s Fall for the Book festival this month—is a
    first-class stylist. In Telegraph Avenue, a woman’s legs are long
    enough to “string with telephone wire [and] carry startling messages to
    the world.” The “bashing” sax on a Coltrane track is “a bee at a
    windowpane seeking ingress or escape.” A life is “lived at sea level,
    prone to flooding.” But most wonderfully, the book’s entire third section
    is a single, sweet, 11-page sentence—as if Chabon were composing a solo in
    a jazz number.
“You got the good heart,” a character tells Archy. “Good heart
    is eighty-five percent of everything in life.” But Telegraph Avenue
    is such a winner because it’s got more than heart—it’s got
    soul.
John Wilwol can be reached by e-mail at jpw1922@gmail.com and on Twitter at @johnwilwol.
This article appears in the September 2012 issue of The Washingtonian.
             
          
            Publisher:
            Harper
          
            Price:
            $27.99
          
 
                        





 
                                









