3.96 AVERAGE


A family faces the uncertainty of mortality when a daughter has an “incident” at school.

Beautifully written, however, I was unable to connect emotionally with any of the characters and the pace was way...too...slow.

An intense and impressive story of parental life.

“Suddenly, but not really. There is always a beginning.”

3.5

Emma and Adam have been married for a number of years and have two daughters. Emma is a GP, and Adam has chosen to stay at home be the house husband. He has a little work at the university and is currently working on a history of the bombed-out Coventry Cathedral. Though Emma is suffering with the stresses of the modern NHS, it is a happy family life. Then one day Adam receives a call from the school. Miriam has collapsed and stopped breathing. He rushes to the school, arriving shortly after the paramedics, and heads into the hospital with her.

As they come to terms with a daughter who has a serious illness, their whole family life is turned upside down. After a barrage of tests, the doctors are not completely sure what is up, so she is allowed home. As they come to terms with the changes they start to fret over the smallest things, worry over their other daughter and question things that happen to Adam’s mother that was never explained.

It is a sharp look at modern life, the way that we interact with each other. Moss has managed to write about the pressures that we place on ourselves, as well as those exerted by society with startling accuracy. It is a celebration of the mundane as well as those moments that draw a family together. However, it is a warning of how thin we stretch ourselves whilst failing to keep the work home life balance and a warning of how transient life can be.

I took a long time with this book - not because I wasn't interested, and not because it wasn't a good read, but because I borrowed the audiobook from the library, didn't finish it in time (because of life things) and then had to wait for the copy to be returned by the subsequent listener... I think this break did me good though. Because coming back to it, I found myself eager to hear what happens to Mimi, to Rose, to Adam, to Emma.

I don't know if I would normally pick up a book like this if I had been aware of what it was really about. But I'm glad that I did. The narrative of the present day - the not knowing, the pervasive fear of loss and death - weaved in with stories of the personal past, and the history of places, built up for me a real understanding of what these moments are like for Adam. And as always, I brought to this book the experience of a very trying year where death was constantly on my mind. And I very much related to Adam.

The fear, the overthinking, the guilt, the attempts to put your own emotions and experience into the context of history in order to lessen the deep-set yawn of panic and despair... I get it.

And I'm glad the author resisted the temptation to tie the book together in a more dramatic fashion. I'm glad the book ends as it does, because it feels more true. You don't get things nicely pulled together really... and sometimes things are not foreshadowing, they just are.

So I woul not recommend this book to someone looking for a quick read, with a traditional arc. I would recommend this book to someone looking for a thoughtful book that might make you contemplate how you deal with uncertainty, death, loss of control, etc., and how we as a society fit these realities into our understanding of the world.

Really liked this for the most part. It's beautifully written and I thought she did a wonderful job of portraying how a tragic event affects our everyday lives.

I didn't like the parts with the cathedral and Adam's father so much. Although the parts with his father were interesting in places, I thought that the book returned to him and to the cathedral a bit too much. I also found Adam and Emma's relationship extremely frustrating;
they clearly have some major communication issues (e.g., Adam resenting how much time Emma spends on her phone but never says) and towards the end of the book it seemed like they were supposedly getting "better", although they hadn't actually done anything that might lead to this aside from having sex.



Absolutely in love

I don't normally write reviews on the books I have read, I usually just stick to giving a rating but I am so disappointed in this book that I had to put my feelings out there.
I very quickly realised within the first few pages that the characters would get on my nerves. Why did you can carry on reading it then? I hear you ask. Well....I wanted to believe the hype. I'd got it wrong, everyone loves this book, I just needed to stick with it. My God, what a slog it was. And to be honest I only skim read the last 50 or so pages.
Adam is one annoying fellow, unhappy with just about everything in a life that most people would crave to have, apart from the ill child, obvs. And yes I understood the stress the family was put under by this 'incident' that involved Miriam's health. But come on. You live in a nice house, with a wife that works all the hours in the day to keep you in the life you have become accustomed to, you have money and two lovely daughters, all be it ones that talk like they are extras on Dawson's Creek (Pretentious much).
Page after page of neurosis, patronising 'insights' into the working class (Nursery workers with no GCSE's!) and endless regurgitations of their family laundry cycle, that's right laundry. Clothes went into the washing machine, then out, then in and over and over it went.
The constant bashing of the NHS and it's shortcomings (let's just have the paramedics leave your child dying in a field then shall we?) was just too much for me to take.
This was a perfect example of middle class white privilege and all their condescension.
Adam you can keep you dirty laundry and air it somewhere else.
emotional reflective slow-paced
Strong character development: No
Loveable characters: Complicated
Diverse cast of characters: No
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

My third and final Sarah Moss of 2019 and I’m a bit smitten! I love books where essentially nothing happens, nothing but characters living their daily lives, dealing with chaos as it comes, and adjusting to their new lives after a crisis. Don’t read this one if you’re expecting a full-blown plot or a fast-paced read, as it’s more an internal monologue from a father’s perspective after his daughter is taken critically and inexplicably ill.

I don’t usually enjoy being in the head of a male narrator, but for the most part Adam is insightful, funny and an excellent father. As Jess @lunchpoems pointed out in her review, there are a couple of eyebrow-raising lines about the working class where it’s difficult to tell whether it’s a character flaw or Moss... But mostly it’s a sensitive reflection of British society, with a more intimate study of a family in crisis within that.

Moss muses on the endless guilt Adam feels over his family’s situation when there are millions of people in the world who have it worse, when this feels like the worst thing in the world. I think a lot of people often think their emotions aren’t valid because other people have it worse. She paints a searing portrait of a father’s suffering upon seeing his child so helpless, every word seems wrought with emotion.

I found it quite an emotionally taxing read, but it’s broken up with short chapters and interspersed with Adam’s musings on Coventry Cathedral (he’s a stay-at-home dad working a couple of hours a week as a lecturer) and his father’s life as a young man. Admittedly I wasn’t as enamoured with these chapters as I was Adam’s, but overall it is a beautiful, quiet read on family life.