Review: Social Work by Thomas Duffy

Author Thomas Duffy pulls back the curtain on mental health and overcoming trauma in a raw and challenging new novel, Social Work. The lines between any patient and healer can grow blurry, particularly in emotionally vulnerable spaces; this complex navigation takes center stage in the novel, leaning into discomfort and forcing readers to consider their own moral boundaries in authentic, thought-provoking ways.

Marc is an unemployed 28-year-old who recently failed to take his own life, while Lauren is a therapist who isn’t completely sure she has the heart for such an emotionally demanding job. Marc doesn’t think he needs help, and Lauren finds herself unable to keep him off her mind. Initially, their relationship is strictly professional, but after Marc leaves the hospital, their connection becomes a bit murkier. As they both pursue other relationships, attempting to live normal lives, their bond as patient and therapist continues to evolve, forever edging towards impropriety.

The novel plays out in a back-and-forth style, with perspectives bouncing between these two unpredictable characters. The structure of the book has each character going off into their own relatively cyclical lives and then coming back together for therapy sessions, where they challenge, encourage, inspire and handicap one another. Marc seems perpetually dissatisfied with the limitations of his own life, while Lauren feels torn by her ethical responsibilities, even as she moves into a more serious relationship with a new partner of her own.

The plot relies heavily on dialogue and character interactions, but also provides glimpses into the internal narrative of the two focal figures, giving readers a somewhat complete picture of their emotional states. Over the course of the novel, Marc and Lauren spiral and succeed, fall in love, and experience great loss – in tandem, but never together – creating a sense of forbidden connection that pervades the pages.

The story strikes a painfully authentic chord for anyone who has ever danced on the edge of an ethical knife, but it stumbles in the execution of the plot. Some of the narrative elements feel repetitive, or unproductive, such as Marc’s redundant relationship struggles and longing for notoriety without putting in actual effort. Similarly, Lauren’s uncertainty about making decisions in her life seems to lack any narrative arc, and her unfulfilled attraction to Marc doesn’t seem entirely justified. For a story that initially seems centered on therapy and mental health following a suicide attempt, those delicate subjects soon take a backseat to relatively commonplace explorations of romance.

On the technical side, a lack of descriptive language and a tendency towards procedural passages makes the pacing inconsistent. The book is heavily dependent on dialogue, as mentioned, but much of it lacks the ring of organic speech, and seems purely functional within the progress of the plot. Additionally, some of the more immature musings are reflective of Marc’s one-note personality, but also give the book the feeling of a young adult work, especially considering one of the characters is a trained therapist.

That being said, Social Work tackles a number of difficult subjects fearlessly, and Duffy’s writing has an endearing earnestness that draws the reader in to these characters’ lives.