What Would Philip Roth Do?: A Memoir

Reading Matthew Check’s What Would Philip Roth Do? feels like sitting down with a brutally honest older friend who insists on telling you every misstep, every awkward hookup, and every late-night existential spiral. The twist, of course, is that he does it all while bantering with the imagined ghost of Philip Roth, who pops in like a sarcastic Obi-Wan Kenobi from Newark.

The book is funny, awkward, and sometimes wildly uncomfortable, but that’s the point. Check doesn’t shy away from oversharing, whether it’s his first time fumbling through sex with Paulette or his bizarre Madrid adventure with Isabella, who slaps him mid-flirtation and accuses him of being “a rapist” before demanding he hit her. These episodes aren’t just lurid stories; they’re the raw material for Check’s exploration of how desire, shame, and creativity get tangled together.

For me, one of the most engaging parts of the memoir is the way music runs parallel to romance. When relationships collapse, the banjo steps in to translate the mess into melody. After Isabella storms out, he finds himself humming a tune and scribbling lyrics: “Como si fuera la luz de la luna/te diera la risa de tus sueños.” It’s clumsy Spanish, but it captures how rejection fuels his creativity as much as connection.

The Jewish identity stuff hit home too, though not in the heavy, lecture-like way you sometimes get in memoirs. Instead, it shows up in quick jokes about circumcision confusing his Spanish lover, or in the Shehecheyanu blessing he mutters the first time he plays banjo on a Madrid balcony. It’s a mash-up of heritage, humor, and horniness that feels surprisingly relatable, especially if you’ve ever tried to balance cultural expectations with the chaos of your twenties.

Readers who like memoirs that don’t polish the edges will enjoy this read. If you’re into Roth, Bukowski, or any writer who embraces the awkward and the ugly as part of being human, you’ll appreciate Check’s voice. Musicians and creatives will also connect with his obsessive practice, the way he describes the banjo roll as “spotting a unicorn” when it finally clicks.

It’s not a “safe” read. There are cringeworthy moments, sexual misadventures, and plenty of Jewish-mother guilt, but that’s what makes it feel alive. What Would Philip Roth Do? is hilarious, and strangely affirming: a reminder that art often comes from our most humiliating and complicated experiences.