This is a story that is written in a truly beautiful manner. The people within it seem so incredibly real that if one were to have the opportunity to visit the fictional town of Mohawk, it would not be at all surprising to encounter one of them while strolling down the street.

The setting and the characters are highly engaging, which initially draws the reader in. However, for me, the book did have several sections where it seemed to drag on. It felt as if it just went on and on without a clear end in sight.

One of the main issues I had with the book was the lack of a central point of conflict or any escalation in the conflict. This made it lack the necessary tension that would have kept me on the edge of my seat throughout the entire reading experience.

In a way, it was similar to a very interesting and well-written memoir where someone painstakingly chronicled the ordinary events of an ordinary life. While the characters were compelling enough to make me want to keep turning the pages, at certain times, I had my doubts as to whether that would be sufficient to hold my interest until the very end.

Thankfully, it was, but it did take me a considerable amount of time and effort to reach that conclusion. Overall, it was an okay read, but it could have been so much more had it addressed these issues.

An early little gem in the Russo canon. I first discovered the author through one of his later books, "Nobody’s Fool," and from that moment on, he had me completely hooked. In "The Risk Pool," small town America once again springs vividly to life. Sam Hall may be an outlandish character, but through his teaching of his son Ned in the ways of philandering, gambling, and evading the notice of local law enforcement as he constantly flits in and out of Ned’s life, Russo provides us with yet another fascinating insight into the heart, sights, and sounds of Small Town America. I truly hope that I have a long life ahead of me so that I can read the complete works of Russo. He simply "works" for me, and his stories have a unique charm that keeps me coming back for more.

Russo is truly an outstanding writer.

He has the remarkable ability to develop some of the most captivating characters.

This particular story focuses on a boy and his complex relationship with his father, who was absent during the boy's earlier years.

The narrative delves deep into the emotions and experiences of the boy as he navigates through life without the presence of his father.

It explores themes such as longing, confusion, and the search for identity.

As the story unfolds, we witness the boy's journey of self-discovery and his attempts to come to terms with his father's absence.

Russo's masterful storytelling keeps the reader engaged from beginning to end, making this a truly unforgettable tale.

Russo’s bildungsroman is truly one of my all-time favorite novels. It delves deep into a life and living that I would otherwise never have known.

Mohawk, New York, the setting of the story, is a tannery town that has been hit hard by a withering economy and the near-extinction of the gloving industry. The bars, restaurants, and aging, decrepit streets are inhabited by the working class, and Sam Hall is like their king.

We witness Ned reuniting with his father after his mother has a breakdown. Through Ned’s eyes, we experience the rhythms and cadence of small town life. Later, Ned reconnects with his father when he himself faces hard times as an adult, and their relationship continues to evolve as Ned pursues a career and life elsewhere. However, the gin mills and pool halls of his hometown always draw him back, and us along with him.

I must admit, as foolish as it may sound, I found that town, with all its seediness, strangely addictive. The characters and the story managed to worm their way into my heart when I first read the book in a nine-hour sitting on my couch during college, and I’ve been haunted by it ever since.

Doubtless, Mohawk is signature Trump country, and Russo doesn’t hold back in showing its ugly side, along with Sam Hall’s trenchant racism and dubious morality. He doesn’t seek to excuse these foibles and shortcomings. There is physical abuse, ignorance, brutality, and every kind of banal, small town evil you can imagine. But there is also something more, something enduring and even admirable, especially in Sam’s dogged pursuit of life.

Sam Hall is such a wonderfully crafted character. In real life, I don’t think I could tolerate him, but on the printed page, he’s a marvel. He’s a walking contradiction, a man who scorns money yet seems to subconsciously believe that some of those with it deserve honor. He’s brash and impulsive, yet constantly likable. He’s prejudiced, yet his best friend is a black man named “Wussy” who understands him better than he understands himself. He’s a terrible father, yet he and Ned have an undeniable connection.

Truth be told, when you remove Sam Hall from Mohawk, you take away his power. But in Mohawk, he’s a sight to behold. I loved reading the scene where he approaches Mrs. Petrie, who is supposed to be catering a friend’s funeral and whom Ned has met before. She greets him with a weary look and says, “Sam Hall. I was just wondering how things could possibly get any worse.” How many of us have had a life like this, where we’re a familiar face, someone who has to be known and acknowledged? Where we can walk into a room and immediately be in sync with everyone in it, at a pace that suits only us?

Halfway through the novel, Ned is returned to his mother, and Sam and Wussy give him back his pool table, a gift Sam finds for him after Ned takes up the game over the summer. “We sure had fun though, didn’t we?” Sam says to him, cuffing him on the head. And Ned says yes because it’s true. Years later, it wouldn’t occur to me until I put my pet cat to sleep just fourteen months after reading the novel (with him lying on top of me the whole time) that those were my last words to my cat. I didn’t even realize I was quoting that scene until yesterday. That’s how Russo’s best work affects you and lives within you from then on.

Richard Russo's second novel stands as an absolute masterpiece within the realm of coming-of-age stories set in a small town.

It meticulously delves into the complex and often dysfunctional family relationship of a young boy. The author skillfully peels back the layers of this family dynamic, revealing the hidden tensions, unspoken words, and the profound impact it has on the boy's成长.

Moreover, this novel serves as a remarkable foreshadowing of Russo's future vivid renderings of small town life in upstate New York. With his keen eye for detail and his ability to capture the essence of a community, Russo paints a picture that is both rich and nuanced.

The reader is transported to the heart of this small town, experiencing the joys, sorrows, and everyday dramas that unfold within its borders. It is a captivating and unforgettable read that leaves a lasting impression on the mind and heart of the reader.

Slow reading reveals an absorbing story.

It's about a boy who grows up in a small town in New England. His relationship with the town is significant, but most importantly, it's about his complex bond with the father who abandoned his family when he was young.

The father then returns to be a part of his son's life intermittently for the rest of his life.

The writing is dense at times, yet it is very good. Russo has a remarkable ability to make the reader empathize with the protagonist and his alcoholic father.

We can feel the boy's confusion, hurt, and longing as he tries to come to terms with his father's presence and absence.

The story explores themes of family, forgiveness, and the search for identity.

It is a powerful and moving tale that will stay with the reader long after the final page is turned.

I was late in discovering the author Richard Russo until a couple of years ago. However, now I firmly believe that he is the greatest living author. Just recently, I completed reading "The Risk Pool" and I am truly in awe of this 40-year-old masterpiece. Russo is simply flawless when it comes to character development and dialogue. His "Fool's" series, especially "Nobody's," ranks number three on my all-time list of favorite books, right after a couple of John Steinbeck classics. I truly hope that Mr. Russo will soon bring us all back to upstate New York. In the meantime, I am eagerly looking forward to reading my last Russo novel, "Mohawk." I am sure it will be just as captivating and outstanding as his other works. I can't wait to immerse myself in the world that Russo creates and experience the emotions and stories that he weaves so skillfully.

This isn't his best work.

The plot advanced at a pace as slow as a meditation, presenting a hypnotic pastiche of diners, flawed yet likeable Townies, and the place itself.

Virtually nothing of great significance occurs, but if you are as devoted a fan as I am, you will come to realize that this was the crucial bridge between the writer who penned "Mohawk" and the maestro who bestowed upon us "Nobody's Fool."

This novel is akin to your thirties - an awkward and transitional stage between venturing out on your own and settling into the remainder of your life.

It holds a certain charm and allure, despite its lack of a fast-paced and action-packed storyline.

It makes you reflect on the in-between moments, the small details that often go unnoticed, and the characters who, in their imperfections, manage to win your heart.

It's a novel that may not be for everyone, but for those who appreciate the subtleties of life and literature, it has its own unique appeal.

A member of my book group suggested this one, and I'm truly overjoyed that she did!

This book is an absolute gem. It's immersive, filled with moments that are both funny and sad, and it keeps you turning the pages with anticipation.

It offers a frank and honest portrait of a family residing in a small town that has witnessed better times. The narrator's father is somewhat of a ne'er-do-well, yet as you read on, you can't help but understand why the townsfolk tolerate his recklessness.

The characterizations in this book are truly terrific. Each character is brought to life with such vividness and authenticity that they seem to leap off the page. And this is just one of the several wonderful books that Russo has written, all set in the charming town of Mohawk. It's a must-read for anyone who loves a good story filled with heart, humor, and a touch of sadness.

This book, in a sense, appeared to set the initial foundation for Nobody’s Fool.

The characters of Sam and Ned in The Risk Pool, although not without their charm, were perhaps slightly less captivating than the much-beloved Sully from Nobody’s Fool.

When compared to Russo’s later works, The Risk Pool did seem rather mediocre.

Even though I derived enjoyment from reading it, it did strike me as being a bit on the long side.

That being said, the town of Mohawk was vividly brought to life, filled with palpable and relatable characters.

The townspeople, with their bleeding hearts and teary eyes, still managed to hold onto hope in a somewhat ghostly and faded land.

As the book draws to a close, the sad truth about parent-child relationships becomes even more glaringly apparent, adding a layer of depth and poignancy to the story.

Overall, while The Risk Pool may not be Russo’s finest work, it still has its merits and offers an interesting exploration of certain themes.

In his second novel published in 1988, Russo transports his readers back to the fictional town of Mohawk in New York State.

Several characters from the first book make a reappearance. There's Harry Saunders at the Mohawk Grill and Untemeyer the bookie who occupied a stool for most of the hours the Grill was open. Readers will also recognize several locales, such as The Lady of Our Sorrows Church, the statue of Nathan Littler, Mohawk High School, and Myrtle Park.

We are introduced to Jenny, a pretty and genteel woman who married Sam Hall just before he went overseas to fight. He returned home a legend, having survived the landing at Normandy, the Battle of the Bulge, and the fight to Berlin. But he was also a changed man, one Jenny hardly recognized. He spent hours away from home, hitting the bars, catting around, and intent on having a good time. The couple managed until their son Ned was born. After that, Jenny quickly grew tired of the hours Sam spent with his cronies in the bars. She demanded a divorce, but Sam refused to give her one, determined never to change his mind. They continued to argue, and Jenny finally kicked Sam out of the house. But he continued to bully her with his crazy antics. Jenny would call the police, but Sam knew all the officers and was nowhere in sight when they arrived.

As Ned grew, his father remained a distant presence in his son's life. Jenny's greatest fear was that Sam would take Ned away, and indeed he did on one occasion, stealing him for a weekend of fishing with his friend Wussy. During that adventure, Ned caught a fish, peed in the woods, caught poison ivy, and had a good time. When Sam brought Ned home, his arms and legs raw from scratching the bug bites and the poison ivy, Jenny responded forcefully, brandishing her father's gun and shooting at Sam's car, blowing out the windshield and the front tire. Jenny made her point, and Sam left them alone for a while.

Over the next years of his childhood, Ned spent a back-and-forth existence, shuttled between his separated parents. His mother provided her son with a prim and proper home, but Ned found her overwhelming and suffocating. After a doomed affair, her mental health suffered, and she became nervous, depressed, and suffered anxiety attacks. When she finally broke down completely and had to be hospitalized, Ned moved in with Sam and began a very different life, learning to go along with whatever was happening in Sam's life and fend for himself as Sam knew little about parenting. A drunken, irresponsible philanderer, he worked on the roads and in construction during the summer and made good money, but spent it freely, often giving it to his cronies who knew he had a soft touch. During the winter, he did a few odd jobs, but most of it was spent gambling, drinking, and enjoying life. Ned eventually found a way to fit into this irregular life he was now part of, often accompanying his father to his various hangouts. Sam had many friends, people Ned soon realized who understood his father better than he did. This ragtag assortment of rednecks, derelicts, and hustlers called the boy they often found at Sam's side, “Sam Hall's Boy”, a moniker that stuck for years. To fit in, survive, and be part of his father's world, Ned learned to steal, gamble, shoot pool, and lie when necessary. In the kind of life Sam led, it was every man for himself.

After Jenny's breakdown when Ned was an adolescent, she fades from the narrative, and Sam becomes the focus of attention. Ned comes to see his father as others do, as Mohawk's resident bad boy, a loner, and an outsized hero in a small town. Ned stays with Sam at his apartment above Klein's, a large department store he routinely breaks into for clothes or other items he needs. The two eat their meals at the diner, and Ned takes on Sam's life, a free and rambling existence. Ned observes his father's loutish behavior, his tendency to brawl, and his boozy stoicism, as well as his dangerous charm. Thoughts of his mother are pushed aside, although there are times when memories of her sweep over him, and he feels intensely guilty. But it never lasted long, and soon those thoughts were tucked safely away in the back of his mind.

When Ned leaves for college, he carries those experiences with him, including the way he views and treats women, his drinking, his obsessive gambling, and his general pessimistic view of life. With his mother under the influence of either Valium or Librium and his father's many secrets along with the many anecdotes he heard in bars and diners, Ned has tried over the years to put together and understand his family's past, terrified of becoming someone who is like his parents.

This is a book filled with a large cast of eccentric characters. In fact, there are perhaps too many, and their long-winded stories add extra pages to a book already filled with enough of what life is like in a small town gone bad. When they are not fully in the main plot, one wonders why they are part of the wide assortment of flawed, quirky, and wounded human beings. They are just one more of the battered alcoholics, suicidal teenagers, shopkeepers, odd jobbers, invalids, and ne're-do-wells who populate this crumbling town. I can't help but wonder if the narrative could do without characters like Tree, Willy Heinz, or Mrs. Agajanian. Certainly, they add more humor to the narrative, but would it suffer appreciably without them? Do we really need to get to know Anita and Robert during Ned's life at graduate school? However, the key characters are well developed and easily gain our sympathy.

There are many funny episodes in this book, ones so absurd they lead the reader to laugh out loud. They help propel the story forward at a good pace and deliver the important message that Ned learned from his bumpy relationship with his father.

Amid the humor, Russo portrays some powerful scenes, including those with Drew, the son of his girlfriend Eileen, and the dangerous tension that filled each of their encounters. Russo's dialogue, especially during those moments and his yammering with his bar buddies, is spot on, as is his depiction of a dying town and the sorry lives of those who live there. As Sam ages, his persona fades from the story, and Russo presents his sorry demise in realistic detail.

The novel has several autobiographical elements, with Mohawk mirroring Gloversville, the town in which Russo grew up. Sam Hall has many of the characteristics of Russo's father, and Russo himself experienced many of Ned's adventures.

This is a sad but subtle tale of how sons are shaped by the lives of their fathers, one you will want to finish to see how things turn out. I am a huge fan of Russo's work and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Nobody is better than Russo when it comes to writing about men.

He has an extraordinary ability to capture the pitiful aspects of our nature. At the same time, he presents just enough of our nobility to make the final portrayal endearing.

Interestingly, Russo was subtly criticizing toxic masculinity even before the term became widely known. He shows compassion even for those who leave, those who make mistakes, and the husbands and dads who are missing in action.

This particular work by Russo is especially deep, rich, sad, funny, and touching. It delves into the complex relationships between fathers and sons. Sons may be abandoned by their fathers, resent them, strive not to be like them, learn from them, seek to make amends with them, and ultimately, in some ways, become their fathers.

When we add Russo's sharp and perceptive eye for small town life, what we have here is something that comes very close to being a masterpiece.