Adam Ross’s latest novel, Playworld, dives deep into the complexities of adolescence in 1980s New York City, painting a vivid picture of a time and place that feels familiar and distant. Set against the backdrop of the Reagan administration, the story follows Griffin, a teenage actor navigating the challenges of his professional and personal lives while wrestling with the cultural and political forces shaping his era.
A Coming of Age: Both Personal and Societal
The novel is one of contrasts: a child actor surrounded by adults in professional settings yet still tethered to the dreams and challenges of adolescence. Ross draws heavily on his own experiences for the character, imbuing Griffin with an authenticity that resonates.
“Like Griffin, I was a child actor who appeared in movies and television programs,” Ross shared, recounting his immersion in a world filled with boundary-shattering experiences and valuable lessons.
This profoundly personal connection infuses Playworld with complexity as Griffin navigates relationships, professional aspirations, and the struggle to define himself. From his passion for wrestling to his brushes with legendary figures in the arts, Griffin’s life serves as a surprising vehicle for the writer—and the reader—to explore the paradoxes of growing up in New York City. Griffin seeks peace and fulfillment among the vibrant challenges of the city. He seeks to find himself among a population of millions.
The New York Nostalgia of the ‘80s
Novels like this are often read as a love letter to a place lost to the past. The ‘80s may not seem far away, but the Playworld that Ross describes and explores is alien and familiar. New York is still a gritty city full of freedom and danger, but this has changed over the decades.
The enchantment and peril experienced by Griffin, viewed through the eyes of one of the youngest residents of one of the world’s most dynamic places, are lost to time. As much as Griffin is a character built out of Ross’s memories, so is the city itself a character in its own right.
Ross didn’t rely entirely on his memories. Any writer can tell you how far from the truth their childhood memories can land. Ross took the time to do meticulous research about the culture and politics of the time. Like many of the best based-on-a-true-story fiction of the growing American canon, this interplay becomes one of the novel’s many sparks.
Historical accuracy blends with the fanciful memories and freedom of childhood. While Griffin navigates the dangers and dramas of the big city in a way that only youth can do, or would even want to, the Reagan era’s seismic political and economic shifts rumble like thunder in the background.
From the Economic Tax Act of 1981 to proxy wars and a burgeoning wealth gap, the novel situates Griffin’s personal struggles within a broader societal context that he cannot fully see.
Human Complexity and Moral Ambiguity
The story is dark, and it wouldn’t feel as real if it were not. Griffin’s life is entangled with flawed adults like his wrestling coach. Ross isn’t afraid to portray, detangle, and rectangle the disturbing nuances of power and influence in the relationships that make up Griffin’s world.
Every moment, even seemingly destructive encounters, becomes part of the portrait of Griffin the book carefully creates. Lessons are learned, and identity is shaped, not always for the better, and always irrevocably.
The costs add up over time, but they go both ways. As much as Griffin owes, the reader collects, eventually adding up to a meditation on freedom, responsibility, and the pain and joy of growing up, all set to the tune of big-city Americana. The novel’s sense of humanity is universal.
Still, its themes are specific: Griffin’s story, with its interplay of independence and identity, could never have been told by any other writer or in any other way.
