Say Nephew

Debutiful, A Best Nonfiction Debut of the Year & Most Anticipated Book of the Year

“In chronicling their relationship, Pfau reflects on the myth of the gay uncle. He asks what the community gains from these relationships and what queer nephews owe their mentors in return.” —Alta

“At its heart, Say Nephew is the memoir of a young queer man attempting to navigate his identity without his father-like gay uncle there to continue guiding him. But the book is so much more . . . Pfau’s book is an honest, tender-hearted, intimate exploration of how important a supportive and lovable gay uncle can be to a child figuring out his own identity. But it’s also a powerful look at how influential one generation can be on the next, particularly when both identify as part of a culture that is too-often shunned instead of embraced. One can only hope that every gay young person finds their own Uncle Bruce to keep the light on as they stumble their way through the dark.” —Sarah Evans, Hippocampus Magazine

“A radical comfort in these times.” —Katie Lee Ellison, The Stranger

“Steven Pfau’s book examines queer mentorship, unclehood, chosen family, and inheritance in a form that is both warm and analytically nimble. That balance matters, because books about queer lineage can become pious very quickly. Say Nephew is smarter, stranger, and more companionable than that.” —Pamela Thomas-Graham, Dandelion Chandelier

“A beautiful ode to family and coming into your own. A blend of traditional memoir and a broader exploration of mentorship, this book was a pleasure to weave in and out of while tracing the quiet, often unseen ways we are shaped by those who guide us.” —Adam Vitcavage, Debutiful

“Pfau’s lens is both wide-ranging and intimate, and the memoir’s essayistic form enables him to draw together numerous moments into a complex self-portrait. A detailed, layered exploration of one man’s life and a tradition of mentorship within the gay community, Say Nephew is not to be missed.” —Kelly Blewett, BookPage

“A richly detailed, thought-provoking celebration of American independence . . . A fond, uniquely crafted appreciation of the myriad wonders of unclehood.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Essayist and editor Pfau debuts with an elegant and smart collection . . . [He] seamlessly blends memoir with art and literary criticism, and his eloquent prose and wit make this stand out. He is a writer worth keeping an eye on.” —Publishers Weekly

“Say Nephew is both a memoir and intellectual journey on the complex gay relationships between younger and older men. Courageous, and often written with poetic subtlety, this book explores both the dark and light aspects of these bonds, which challenge and enlighten conventional ideas.” —Jennifer Clement, author of The Promised Party

“In this fluid, sexy, and delightfully campy inversion of autotheory, Steven Pfau performs a kind of alchemy, turning grief into comfort, loss into nourishment. I can’t remember the last time a stylish debut brimmed over with such wisdom, and such stern tenderness.” —Patrick Nathan, author of The Future Was Color

“The uncle relation is said to be diagonal, to the side of a parental one, already queer in that way; but for Steven Pfau that doesn’t preclude direct confrontation. The magic act of this resourceful and remarkably sensitive cultural study of the figure of the gay uncle is that, by the end, it doubles as an open and personal account of becoming ‘the kind of person who isn’t afraid of his own desires.’ In the company of this clear-eyed seeker, this companionable guide, both the archive and the steam room are less apparitional.” —Brian Blanchfield, author of Proxies

“Steven Pfau’s riveting debut book investigates a genre of relationship—gay uncle, gay nephew—rarely given air time and usually shrouded in mystification. His beautifully sculpted dramatic scenes, and his deft interludes of intellectual commentary, blend seamlessly to form a vital, indispensable memoir that operates with the eloquence of fiction and the analytic rigor of a ‘case study’ passionately metamorphosed into an elegiac, liberatory love letter.” —Wayne Koestenbaum, author of My Lover, the Rabbi