The Intangibles is Paumgarten's memoir told through the odd but vivid lens of hockey. Not a book about hockey, really, but one in which a lifetime of obsessively hanging around the game provides a vivid and sneaky-exotic window into a cultish world that hides in plain sight.
The Intangibles is also a timely, sharp, and witty exploration of masculinity, of boys and men, sons and fathers, of both the toxic and non-toxic kinds. And a deep, questioning look at, and finally a celebration of, a certain world of male friendship, in which sport - or the dreams of sport - becomes the lingua franca for a group of men with all their faults and hopes. Paumgarten's memoir both explores and undermines some of the mythologies of manhood and sport, while creating a fresh, rich, and honest portrait of men at play - the kind of male play of such outsized importance that it defies logic, age, orthopaedics, and the responsibilities of grown-up life.
Though he rarely plays anymore, Paumgarten still cherishes the game of hockey. In many respects, The Intangibles is a love letter to the game, and a razor-sharp, original, and mordant anthropology of its participants and their earnest strivings by one of our finest writers.
