Nobody's Fool

I’ll admit, I approached *Nobody’s Fool* with skepticism. Another novel about a sad-sack white guy in a dying town? But within an hour, Ron McLarty’s narration had me hooked—not just on Sully, but on the entire ecosystem of North Bath. McLarty’s timing is impeccable, especially in Sully’s dry, sarcastic asides, where a pause or a sigh does half the work. The real triumph, though, is how Russo balances the novel’s sprawling cast. Side characters like Rub, Sully’s dim but loyal sidekick, or Miss Beryl, the sharp-tongued landlady, aren’t just foils; they’re fully realized, often stealing scenes with their own quiet tragedies. That said, the middle act drags slightly—Sully’s feud with his estranged son, Peter, feels a beat too prolonged, and a subplot involving a local cop’s corruption could’ve been tighter. But these are quibbles. The audiobook’s production is flawless, with clear audio and a consistency that makes it easy to binge. What stays with you isn’t the plot (though it’s satisfying) but the *texture* of the thing: the way Russo writes about work—real, backbreaking work—as both a curse and a salvation, or how McLarty delivers Sully’s internal monologues like a man arguing with himself in a bar at 2 a.m. The novel’s humor is sneaky; you’ll laugh at a one-liner, then realize it’s actually a gut-punch about aging or class. And the ending? Perfectly ambiguous, like life, but with just enough grace to leave you nodding. If you love character-driven fiction with teeth, or if you’ve ever known a Sully (and let’s be honest, we all have), this is worth the time investment. Just don’t expect easy answers—or easy listening.