4 very good, very long books
Curl up, hunker down, sink your teeth into these biiiig recos
Life is busy; attention spans are short. Commitment is scary, and sometimes it’s hard to devote yourself to 500+ pages. Below are four recommendations that despite their daunting lengths, are absolutely worth your time and dedication.
PS: “Very long” is in the eye of the beholder—they’re no War & Peace or Infinite Jest, but get real. I can almost guarantee you’ll feel as satisfied, and likely have a much better time.
Long Island Compromise by Taffy Brodesser-Akner
464 pages
From the author of Fleishman Is In Trouble, comes an equally immersive tale, this time about a wealthy family on Long Island.
This book is a tragedy. And I had an amazing time. It follows the Fletcher family, whom we meet as a trajectory-defining event occurs: the dad gets kidnapped. For a week, the husband of Ruth and father of Nathan, Beamer, and Jenny is held for ransom. When he is returned and pronounced safe and sound (well, safe, probably not sound), the family—in classic fashion of that generation—decides the best course of action is to never speak of it again. You can only imagine the havoc that decision wreaks.
The book fast-forwards 40 years and into the lives of the adult children. Nathan is paralyzed by fear, Beamer turns to any and all vices to mask his mediocrity, and Jenny is so hellbent on disavowing her family’s wealth that she ruins her own life bit by bit—each tale more tragic than the last, if you can believe it.
The book is separated into parts, and I loved how the tone and inflection and language and overall vibe changed to match the personality—and neuroses—of each character. Nathan’s part was pure anxiety as he held a death grip on his life, and watched it fall apart anyway. Beamer’s was so chaotic, all over the place as he actively avoided and explained away his addiction. Jenny’s was arguably the worst of all, and therefore the most impressive writing: delusional, gaslighting herself into believing she was the good amongst the rest of her family’s evil.
This book is so entertaining; like a car crash, I couldn’t possibly look away. There is no drama like family drama, especially *wealthy* family drama, and this book delivers that in spades.
Wellness by Nathan Hill
611 pages
Jack and Elizabeth fall in love in Chicago in the 90s. They’re both broken in their own ways (aren’t we all?) and become instantly inseparable, truly in their own world. Twenty years later, they’re married with a kid. Jack is an artist obsessed with bettering himself; Elizabeth is a researcher at a company called Wellness, specializing in the placebo effect (important detail). The deep, otherworldly connection that defined their relationship back then is no longer—they’ve become two separate worlds existing under one roof.
And the book is written that way too, switching back and forth between Jack and Elizabeth’s perspective, hearing about what’s consuming them and how they’re interpreting the other. The writing is verbose in the best way. The author takes his time outlining every inch of the emotions, tensions, frustrations, memories, and I was absolutely eating it up.
My favorite thing, though, was that the book had an overarching sense of optimism that was so earnest, so endearing, so lovely. Even through anger and distance and brokenness, this book proved that love—not just romantic love, but the multidimensional, existential variety—will make its way through, no matter what.
I’ve also never read a quote that so perfectly, effortlessly, gloriously describes that magic of loving someone and building a life with them quite like this one…
Behind curtains, this, he thinks, is what lovers do—they are alchemists and architects, pioneers and fabulists; they make one thing another; they invent the world around them.
Pachinko by Min Jin Lee
496 pages
Unlike the others, this one has been out for quite some time. And having just finished it this morning, I can’t believe it took me so long to get around to it. Learn from this cautionary tale of mine.
Pachinko is sweeping. Its 500 pages are subtle, yet powerful. The book spans three generations, starting mainly with Sunja, who we meet as a young girl in Korea. Her life is filled with hard work, until she falls for an older man who promises to give her the world. Spoiler alert, he doesn’t. Pregnant, she marries a different man, a benevolent minister, and moves to Japan, quickly learning how unwelcome Koreans are in this new place. Her children, and her children’s children, learn this, and much more, in their own time and in their own ways.
“A woman’s lot is to suffer” is repeated throughout the book. Sunja suffers, and she wonders what for. Sacrifice and loyalty look different with each passing generation. There is love, but its so often unspoken. Whether that’s cultural or individual or both, you aren’t able to grasp the enormity of the opening line—“History has failed us, but no matter”— until it’s over.
In a conversation with the author at the end of the book, Lee is asked about the tone she chose throughout the story and her answer is “fair”. She set out to be as objective as possible when it came to her characters and the world she created. As with any culture, there are so many nuances that I as an outsider didn’t know. And one of the many things I loved about this book is that Lee has written it in such an impressive, deft, fair way that allows the reader to learn and expand and form opinions of their own. Despite the turmoil the occurs throughout the story, it’s never forced upon the reader. It takes you along, gently and masterfully. It’s a long journey, and such a rewarding one.
Excitingly, there’s a TV adaptation, that has a second season coming out next week! It’s on Apple+. I will be starting it ASAP to fill the void this magnificent book has left.
The God of the Woods by Liz Moore
478 pages
Last, but not least: a bit of a thriller! The God of the Woods takes place at a summer camp in the Adirondacks, moving through time from way back when the Vanderbilt-level wealthy Van Laar family settles there, to 1975, when a girl from the very same lineage goes missing.
The concept itself is intriguing: who doesn’t love a summer camp whodunnit? But the book surprised me with so many more layers than I initially imagined. Hearing from perspectives old and young, rich and poor, powerful and not, the story is multifaceted and deeply captivating.
The juxtaposition of the Van Laar family and the community of workers and families that keep the camp and the town running is executed flawlessly. It’s a piercing portrait of how wealth can warp your perception of reality, how wealth—its presence or its lack—defines your view of yourself, your environment, the world. Memory and truth are up for debate. That’s what this book does so well: who’s the victim here? Like a kaleidoscope, you’ll get a hundred different answers depending on where you’re standing. No one is all bad or all good, and that’s what makes humans, their stories, fascinating.
Another reason I loved this book—nature is a forceful, ever-present character. The woods are far more formidable than any person, than wealth, than all the power society can give. A storm changes lives forever, and familiarity with the forest is both a downfall and an opportunity. God of the Woods is not short on excitement, both manmade and natural.
Do let me know if you read any of these, and what you think of them!