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The Modern
In an age driven by desire, what happens when you want two different things? Set in the pristine, precarious world of MoMA, The Modern is a brilliantly wry and insightful debut about art, sexuality, commitment and whether being on the right path can lead to the wrong place. Things seem to be working out for Sophia in New having come from Australia to be at the centre of modernity, she’s working at the Museum of Modern Art, living in a great apartment with a boyfriend interviewing for Ivy League teaching positions. They’re smart, serious, dine in the right restaurants and have (a little unexpectedly) become engaged just before he leaves to hike the Appalachian Trail. Alone in the city, Sophia begins to wonder what it means to be married – to be defined, publicly – in the 21st century. Can you be true to yourself and someone else? In a bridal shop she meets Cara, a young artist struggling to get over her ex-girlfriend, and the two begin a connection that leads Sophia to question the nature of her relationships, her career and the consequences of being modern. Both playful and profound, inhabiting the gap between what we feel about ourselves and how we behave, Anna Kate Blair’s debut novel is a sparklingly insightful queer exploration of desire, art and her generation’s place in the world. It announces an exceptional new literary voice. ‘Cerebral and sensual … each fork in the road revealing itself with insight and beauty.’ Katerina Gibson, author of Women I Know ‘A dazzling exploration of desire and longing. Anna Kate Blair has given us a new form of fiction – intellectual, yearning, honest and vulnerable.’ Anne Casey-Hardy, author of Cautionary Tales for Excitable Girls ‘This novel is a work of art ... It made me laugh, feel lucky to be alive, and reminded me of the expansiveness of creativity.’ Laura McPhee-Browne, author of Cherry Beach
336 pages, Paperback
First published August 30, 2023
65 people are currently reading
2100 people want to read
About the author
Anna Kate Blair
4 books11 followersAnna Kate Blair is a writer from Aotearoa. She holds a PhD in History of Art and Architecture from the University of Cambridge and her work has appeared in New Rules, Reckoning, Meanjin, The Lifted Brow and Landfall. The Modern is her debut novel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 129 reviews
September 4, 2023
thanking god i am not bisexual i couldn’t do it stay safe tho guys
June 22, 2023
I expected to love this book. It’s about art, New York and a young woman forging a career at MoMA, the legendary Manhattan institution promoting the most innovative and provocative forms of modern and contemporary art. Described as “a brilliantly wry and insightful debut about art, sexuality, commitment and whether being on the right path can lead to the wrong place”, it’s a book that holds lots of promise for the reader.
Unfortunately, in my case, that promise wasn’t fulfilled. A large part of the reason was the character of the protagonist, Sophia. A young woman alone at a time of uncertainty about her career and her relationships, she’s questioning her purpose, her future and her past, but obsessively and with no clue as to her own motivations. This endless ruminating becomes exasperating to the reader. She’s a completely passive character, she lets things happen to her without any awareness of what they mean. For example, her boyfriend proposes and she immediately accepts unthinkingly, then spends the rest of the book vacillating about her boyfriend, her engagement and the institution of marriage itself. She tells herself she “wanted to have chosen it [marriage], rather than to have woken up one morning and found myself engaged … unsure of the precise machinations through which I had entered this state, unable to trace the contours.”
Writing about solitary characters who engage in relentlessly dissecting their thoughts and actions can be a recipe for a flat and tedious narrative. It can only work if the character is relatable, generates empathy and by the end of the book reaches a stage of resolution, enlightenment or deeper understanding, which didn’t happen here.
In a way it’s an I Heart New York in book form, interspersed with insider perspectives about the world of art museums and those who work there, but that’s not enough, enjoyable though it is, to sustain a novel. In some ways it reminded me of “My Salinger Year” by Joanna Rakoff but lacking in the charm and vivid characterisation of that book.
It may be that I’m the wrong generation to fully appreciate a book about twenty and thirty-year old “moderns” and others may find it much more relatable.
I’m grateful to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for allowing me to read an advance review copy of the book.
Unfortunately, in my case, that promise wasn’t fulfilled. A large part of the reason was the character of the protagonist, Sophia. A young woman alone at a time of uncertainty about her career and her relationships, she’s questioning her purpose, her future and her past, but obsessively and with no clue as to her own motivations. This endless ruminating becomes exasperating to the reader. She’s a completely passive character, she lets things happen to her without any awareness of what they mean. For example, her boyfriend proposes and she immediately accepts unthinkingly, then spends the rest of the book vacillating about her boyfriend, her engagement and the institution of marriage itself. She tells herself she “wanted to have chosen it [marriage], rather than to have woken up one morning and found myself engaged … unsure of the precise machinations through which I had entered this state, unable to trace the contours.”
Writing about solitary characters who engage in relentlessly dissecting their thoughts and actions can be a recipe for a flat and tedious narrative. It can only work if the character is relatable, generates empathy and by the end of the book reaches a stage of resolution, enlightenment or deeper understanding, which didn’t happen here.
In a way it’s an I Heart New York in book form, interspersed with insider perspectives about the world of art museums and those who work there, but that’s not enough, enjoyable though it is, to sustain a novel. In some ways it reminded me of “My Salinger Year” by Joanna Rakoff but lacking in the charm and vivid characterisation of that book.
It may be that I’m the wrong generation to fully appreciate a book about twenty and thirty-year old “moderns” and others may find it much more relatable.
I’m grateful to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for allowing me to read an advance review copy of the book.
August 28, 2023
Anna Kate Blair’s The Modern is an absolute must-read for Art History nerds, fans of the 20/30-something coming of age genre, and lovers of Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar.
The Modern is about Sophia, a fellow at MoMA who has a PhD in Art History. At the start of the novel, Sophia gets spontaneously engaged to her long-term partner, Robert, right before he leaves to hike the Appalachian Trail. During Robert’s absence, Sophia strikes up a friendship with a young artist named Cara. What follows is a nuanced exploration of relationships, sexuality, career ambition, marriage, and ultimately, an answer to the question; what is modern?
I loved this novel for many reasons. One being reading about a woman with career ambition. It is immediately clear that both Sophia and Robert put themselves and their careers before anything else, including their relationship with each other. I found it really refreshing to follow a female protagonist putting her own ambitions and desires for her career and life before her desire for a romantic relationship and life partner. Sophia’s love of Art History and deep desire to continue working at MoMA is a really important and compelling narrative thread, and it certainly drew me further into the world of the novel.
I thought Blair did an amazing job of showing the complexities of existing as a woman, and as a queer woman, in a heterosexual relationship. Sophia experiences the paradox of deeply loving and trusting a man and, at the same time, being aware of and uncomfortable about the male gaze. I also found Sophia’s fear of ‘posing’ as a straight woman in her relationship really compelling. This passage sums it up better than I ever could; “I’d worried… that I might be betraying myself when Robert and I indulged in our shared fantasies, as if detailing my desire for women was titillating to Robert only because he didn’t really perceive women as a threat. …I was afraid, instead, that I was complicit in the reduction of queer female desire to something performed for a male gaze.” (p. 17)
I also absolutely loved the parallels to The Bell Jar that Blair drew in The Modern. Sophia is a woman facing several potentially life altering decisions. While reading, I found myself picturing Esther under the fig tree; paralysed, tired, confused, and at the same time, deeply aware of her selfhood and agency by the time we reach the novel’s end. Sophia knows herself and what she wants in a broad sense. Her journey throughout The Modern is the process of working out some of the finer details, which I thought was quite unique.
Finally, I really loved reading Sophia’s inner debate about the concept of marriage. This is something I haven’t come across in many other books I’ve read. When wedding dress shopping Sophia reflects that “in these stores, marriage appeared to be a ritual sacrifice of women to patriarchy and capitalism.” (p. 48) This is an image that really stuck in my mind.
Anna Kate Blair’s ability to articulate complex feelings and experiences in a digestible and concise way in this novel had me completely hooked right from the first page. I could go on forever about all the other reasons I loved The Modern. It had me emotionally and intellectually engaged from start to finish and I simply did not want to put it down.
The Modern is about Sophia, a fellow at MoMA who has a PhD in Art History. At the start of the novel, Sophia gets spontaneously engaged to her long-term partner, Robert, right before he leaves to hike the Appalachian Trail. During Robert’s absence, Sophia strikes up a friendship with a young artist named Cara. What follows is a nuanced exploration of relationships, sexuality, career ambition, marriage, and ultimately, an answer to the question; what is modern?
I loved this novel for many reasons. One being reading about a woman with career ambition. It is immediately clear that both Sophia and Robert put themselves and their careers before anything else, including their relationship with each other. I found it really refreshing to follow a female protagonist putting her own ambitions and desires for her career and life before her desire for a romantic relationship and life partner. Sophia’s love of Art History and deep desire to continue working at MoMA is a really important and compelling narrative thread, and it certainly drew me further into the world of the novel.
I thought Blair did an amazing job of showing the complexities of existing as a woman, and as a queer woman, in a heterosexual relationship. Sophia experiences the paradox of deeply loving and trusting a man and, at the same time, being aware of and uncomfortable about the male gaze. I also found Sophia’s fear of ‘posing’ as a straight woman in her relationship really compelling. This passage sums it up better than I ever could; “I’d worried… that I might be betraying myself when Robert and I indulged in our shared fantasies, as if detailing my desire for women was titillating to Robert only because he didn’t really perceive women as a threat. …I was afraid, instead, that I was complicit in the reduction of queer female desire to something performed for a male gaze.” (p. 17)
I also absolutely loved the parallels to The Bell Jar that Blair drew in The Modern. Sophia is a woman facing several potentially life altering decisions. While reading, I found myself picturing Esther under the fig tree; paralysed, tired, confused, and at the same time, deeply aware of her selfhood and agency by the time we reach the novel’s end. Sophia knows herself and what she wants in a broad sense. Her journey throughout The Modern is the process of working out some of the finer details, which I thought was quite unique.
Finally, I really loved reading Sophia’s inner debate about the concept of marriage. This is something I haven’t come across in many other books I’ve read. When wedding dress shopping Sophia reflects that “in these stores, marriage appeared to be a ritual sacrifice of women to patriarchy and capitalism.” (p. 48) This is an image that really stuck in my mind.
Anna Kate Blair’s ability to articulate complex feelings and experiences in a digestible and concise way in this novel had me completely hooked right from the first page. I could go on forever about all the other reasons I loved The Modern. It had me emotionally and intellectually engaged from start to finish and I simply did not want to put it down.
November 28, 2023
She’s studying a PhD in navel gazing 💀
December 19, 2023
A few weeks ago, my brother and I had a discussion about the Romans - as in, "How often do you think about the Romans? Daily?" Apparently it's a thing, especially for men. For the record, I think about the Romans approximately twice a year, and it's usually in relation to aqueducts.
Anyway, I was reminded of the conversation as I read Anna Kate Blair's debut, The Modern , because the main character, Sophia, thinks about postmodernism and modernism all the time.
It was just one of the excruciating elements of this book. But before I get too far into the reasons why I couldn't wait for The Modern to be over, I will direct you to Lisa's review. She loved it!
The story revolves around Sophia, a thirty-year-old Australian with a doctorate in American art history. Sophia secured a fellowship at New York’s Museum of Modern Art but as her time there draws to an end, she is confronted by what to do next. This should have been made slightly less complicated by the fact of her US fiancé, Robert (and therefore access to a visa), however, Sophia falls in love with Cara, a young artist she meets in a bridal shop. Their connection leads Sophia to question the nature of her relationships, her career and 'being modern'.
My main issue with this book was style. Yes, completely subjective. I found the language repetitive and overwrought. My Kindle has a handy feature that allows you to search key words and so, when I started feeling irritated by the the constant sentences beginning with 'I felt/ thought/ wondered...', I ran the numbers:
I wondered - 191 sentences
I thought - 233 sentences
I felt - 352 sentences
Maybe Blair's editor thought this was okay given the first-person stream-of-consciousness perspective but I found it lazy.
Furthermore, there was an enormous amount of superfluous detail, particularly around modern art, New York and the Appalachian Trail.
This is one of 43 mentions of the Appalachian Trail. It does not contribute to moving the narrative forward at all. The only reason the Trail is in the book is because Robert is walking it, his absence giving Sophia time to form a relationship with Cara. If the Trail wasn't enough, the info-dumping about New York is relentless. I began to think that Blair kept a notebook full of pithy observations when she lived in New York, and has now crammed them all into one story.
Looking through a therapy lens, I was struck by Sophia's complete lack of personal boundaries; her lack of emotional maturity; and how incredibly self-absorbed and self-important she was. Her criticisms of others (without examining her own actions) showed a frankly unbelievable lack of insight (heads-up Sofia, if you have to make a list of things you like about your fiancé in order to convince yourself you're making a good decision, you're most certainly not making a good decision). And the constant questioning of whether people considered her a friend was strange.
Lastly, I'm in no position to comment on the queer element of the plot but Sophia speaks of her queerness like it's a novelty, and her indecisiveness around her relationships and what she desired seemed superficial and insincere.
I do like a book that divides readers, rather than everyone saying, "It was fine...Three stars". On that note, you're either going to love The Modern... or not.
1.5/5
Anyway, I was reminded of the conversation as I read Anna Kate Blair's debut, The Modern , because the main character, Sophia, thinks about postmodernism and modernism all the time.
I was searching for answers about my future, feeling out of sync with postmodernity, but they were playing Pokémon Go.
I genuinely didn't know if I was reacting to my circumstances, to a culture eager to classify my sexuality and evaluate my worth through my professional position, or if I was simply avoiding myself through examination of postmodern life.
On the subway to the airport, we sat on pale blue benches; a young girl opposite us cradled a backpack the colour of a peach emoji, like a postmodern personification of spring.
It was just one of the excruciating elements of this book. But before I get too far into the reasons why I couldn't wait for The Modern to be over, I will direct you to Lisa's review. She loved it!
The story revolves around Sophia, a thirty-year-old Australian with a doctorate in American art history. Sophia secured a fellowship at New York’s Museum of Modern Art but as her time there draws to an end, she is confronted by what to do next. This should have been made slightly less complicated by the fact of her US fiancé, Robert (and therefore access to a visa), however, Sophia falls in love with Cara, a young artist she meets in a bridal shop. Their connection leads Sophia to question the nature of her relationships, her career and 'being modern'.
My main issue with this book was style. Yes, completely subjective. I found the language repetitive and overwrought. My Kindle has a handy feature that allows you to search key words and so, when I started feeling irritated by the the constant sentences beginning with 'I felt/ thought/ wondered...', I ran the numbers:
I wondered - 191 sentences
I thought - 233 sentences
I felt - 352 sentences
Maybe Blair's editor thought this was okay given the first-person stream-of-consciousness perspective but I found it lazy.
I wondered what it meant to make somebody the subject of another person's photograph. I wondered, too, why we deified the female body that did not show strength, did not meet our gaze, but appeared to fall in slow-motion while we focused our cameras.
Furthermore, there was an enormous amount of superfluous detail, particularly around modern art, New York and the Appalachian Trail.
I read about Horace Kephart, who looked for the least detailed part of his map, convinced that there lay wilderness, and went to the Smokies and stayed until his death, in an automobile accident on a mountain road. Kephart was involved in plotting the route of the Appalachian Trail through the Smoky Mountains and the trail went, now, across the southern slope of Mount Kephart, named for him in another unnecessary flourish.
This is one of 43 mentions of the Appalachian Trail. It does not contribute to moving the narrative forward at all. The only reason the Trail is in the book is because Robert is walking it, his absence giving Sophia time to form a relationship with Cara. If the Trail wasn't enough, the info-dumping about New York is relentless. I began to think that Blair kept a notebook full of pithy observations when she lived in New York, and has now crammed them all into one story.
Looking through a therapy lens, I was struck by Sophia's complete lack of personal boundaries; her lack of emotional maturity; and how incredibly self-absorbed and self-important she was. Her criticisms of others (without examining her own actions) showed a frankly unbelievable lack of insight (heads-up Sofia, if you have to make a list of things you like about your fiancé in order to convince yourself you're making a good decision, you're most certainly not making a good decision). And the constant questioning of whether people considered her a friend was strange.
Lastly, I'm in no position to comment on the queer element of the plot but Sophia speaks of her queerness like it's a novelty, and her indecisiveness around her relationships and what she desired seemed superficial and insincere.
...I missed the queer club nights I'd visited with Emily. I missed smearing glitter on my eyebrows and lending eyeliner to the men that I knew; I missed feeling as if there were infinite ways to exist, that people weren't instantly readable, were more interested in dissolving categories than in explaining anything.
I do like a book that divides readers, rather than everyone saying, "It was fine...Three stars". On that note, you're either going to love The Modern... or not.
1.5/5
I was a bit disappointed with my chicken sandwich. I wondered what Emily thought of hers, hoped that she liked it. I wished, again, that I'd suggested the dumpling place. We could get pretzel soft serve from Milk Bar, afterward, here, at least. I knew tourists were usually excited about Momofuku Milk Bar, though I didn't know if Emily counted as a tourist or if David Chang's eateries had taken over LA, too.
July 27, 2024
this one’s for the art history nerds
August 5, 2025
i, shockingly, weirdly loved this. i’ve said before that my love for books is rooted exactly in the person i am when i read them - something about this spoke to me at this exact point in my life, in a degree i’m not quite sure what’s at the end for me. and i’ve wanted to move to new york since i was twelve, against the wishes of everyone who tells you it’s nothing like the movies, and i’ve loved frank o’hara with a connection so powerful and withstanding since i first read having a coke with you and i felt like i had an entire world of love expanding before me, coloured by the rush and franticness of early love, the way we lose ourselves in romanticising the rearview before the moment has even passed. is it enough to be present in the moment? is to love to constantly fear the exact moment you’ll lose it - and what is ‘it’? the person you love or the person you were before you loved them, knowing your future self will never be untainted from their touch? amidst the trend of ‘unlikeable female characters’ who are unlikeable purely because they are losers, blair draws out measured, considered characters who reflect fragments of the world around them in the unknowing of themselves, their bluntness and their sadness. at her core sophia is pathetic but blair gives her space and nuance to understand herself through her own lack of transparency, and not knowing what she wants. a sleepy, ambivalent book at it’s core and certainly not for everyone but this felt written almost exactly for me.
(reread 2025) Felt the innate need to revisit this post my time in New York and strangely loved it just as much as I did the first time I read it, even though Sophia is a character I would stereotypically hate. I adore Blair’s writing style and also something about this book has always spoken to me… who knows what or why but I think it was published just for me
(reread 2025) Felt the innate need to revisit this post my time in New York and strangely loved it just as much as I did the first time I read it, even though Sophia is a character I would stereotypically hate. I adore Blair’s writing style and also something about this book has always spoken to me… who knows what or why but I think it was published just for me
August 30, 2023
'I wondered if these strange, sudden obsessions were called crushes because, as with berries underfoot, a skin might break, rupturing the boundaries between one life and another. It felt risky to desire, as if compartments inside me were vanishing, oozing, overheating with the charge of adrenalin.'
In The Modern, Anna Kate Blair delivers an intelligent and engaging exploration of the self in relation to commitment, desire, sexuality, gender, art, and the concept of belonging.
With an affectionate insight into New York and its museums, the book serves as both an evaluative ode to the city and a thought-provoking art history lesson. Wrapped within this is a quietly crushing novel of falling in and out of love - romantic, platonic, and professional - and its profound impacts on our own sense of identity.
Blair's writing exhibits a remarkable blend of intellect and charm, captivating you with her carefully crafted prose and depth of thought. It's been quite some time since I've underlined passages in a book, but I felt the need to record some of Blair's stunning sentences to revisit in the future.
After relishing this debut, I'm eagerly awaiting Anna Kate Blair's next work.
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Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster (Australia) for the ARC in return for an honest review.
August 25, 2023
I have never read a book and felt “seen” in the way that this one made me feel. This debut novel sets up questions around identity, desire, and figuring out who we are/what we want from life. As a PhD student I also appreciated the career uncertainties and references to academic pressures here.
This book is not going to be for everyone, but it was for me. It sets out some very real and (I feel) very specific struggles that a bi person can experience. How can we perform a queer identity when we’re in a seemingly heterosexual relationship? Should we need to? What does it mean to “pass” as hetero while identifying as queer, and how do we address this? Does one desire negate another? This is a novel that, if it speaks to you, then you will sit and ponder it. I will say that the MC can come across as unlikeable at times, but this didn’t particularly bother me. I, personally, am always harping on about the need for more bi-visibility and I wasn’t disappointed by this one.
Thanks so much to Harper Collins NZ for sending me a copy to review.
October 3, 2023
I really wanted to like this book - Melbourne author, art-world, NYC, love confusion. But, for the first time with a book this year, I couldn’t finish it. The main character just became insufferable. It seems this book is very divisive!
March 14, 2024
I found this rather nauseatingly self indulgent
Read
January 26, 2024literalmente sentí que la novela terminó donde debería haber empezado. no puedo creer. no entiendo si lo odié o me gustó. solo se que el párrafo final podría ser un hermoso comienzo de un montón de cosas re interesantes para la protagonista y sin embargo NO. dios. que bronca.
October 18, 2023
Originally I was going to give the book 3 stars because officially that means "i liked it" but a lot of people seemed to give the book 3 stars on a negative basis so I've pushed my rating up to 4 stars to express that I felt positively about this book.
I need to start by saying that this book felt incredibly relatable to me - completely unrelatable in Sophia's pursuit of the arts and her love of America but wholly relatable in how she handled her emotions, her relationships, her regrets and mostly, how she reflected herself. I've read a lot of other fiction novels in a similar genre to this one recently (the last four books I've read have been about art - odd, I'm an Anatomist) but I found this one most relatable in how Sophie experiences her life and emotions.
Contrary to other comments I found her indecision relieving - I felt she handled her life in the same ways i handle mine, does that make it the correct way to go about life? probably not (which I think it incredibly well reflected by her at the end of the book) but its so relatable.
I related to it on the personal level of being a queer woman desiring to exist in the queer space as a large part of my identity - ironically also reminiscing on the gay culture of Sydney- and as a typically non-queer looking woman I feel constantly like I have to express, promote, my queerness in a way that is frustrating even if it is understandable why people don't see that.
As a career-focused individual I found Sophia relatable too, and I realise I obsess over my studies in how she obsesses over hers - defining myself against the papers I read and the observations of psychiatrists in a similar mindset to how Sophia describes the MoMA exhibits. I adored her love for existing in a space that she feels most herself and realising more than anything living in that space could be more important than any single person.
For things that drew me away from the novel - I for the most part adore descriptive books and see the appeal of vision for the sake of just expressing the world but sometimes it felt a bit too long and I found reading sometimes tedious in description. I feel like there were lots of big concepts that encroached on the novel that took too much of a backseat while Sophia sorted herself out; I liked the intricacies of her thoughts but found myself wanting a bit more of a revelation on, say, her conclusions on existence outside of a queer space, as a bisexual, fitting into groups which I feel were mentioned but didn't always feel completely concluded - not really an issue as much as it made the book feel sometimes more biographical than a fiction novel.
I did enjoy the book a lot though - I found myself relating heavily to Cara at times and then found myself embarrassed by some of her actions later as I found them immature but understandable of someone my age. I understood Sophia in a way that felt so reflective of my own personality and felt for her in her desire towards uncertainty but also wondering if she craved stability. I'll be honest and say I cared less and less for Robert as the novel progressed even as I understood what made him, often/occasionally, a good influence in her life - I'm a lesbian though so I can't deny my personal biases.
I listened to Troye Sivan's new album while reading the second half of this and think like the album the novel really captured what it can mean for some people to explore themselves and come out the other side of life feeling like you might not be okay but will probably be one day and that's alright.
I need to start by saying that this book felt incredibly relatable to me - completely unrelatable in Sophia's pursuit of the arts and her love of America but wholly relatable in how she handled her emotions, her relationships, her regrets and mostly, how she reflected herself. I've read a lot of other fiction novels in a similar genre to this one recently (the last four books I've read have been about art - odd, I'm an Anatomist) but I found this one most relatable in how Sophie experiences her life and emotions.
Contrary to other comments I found her indecision relieving - I felt she handled her life in the same ways i handle mine, does that make it the correct way to go about life? probably not (which I think it incredibly well reflected by her at the end of the book) but its so relatable.
I related to it on the personal level of being a queer woman desiring to exist in the queer space as a large part of my identity - ironically also reminiscing on the gay culture of Sydney- and as a typically non-queer looking woman I feel constantly like I have to express, promote, my queerness in a way that is frustrating even if it is understandable why people don't see that.
As a career-focused individual I found Sophia relatable too, and I realise I obsess over my studies in how she obsesses over hers - defining myself against the papers I read and the observations of psychiatrists in a similar mindset to how Sophia describes the MoMA exhibits. I adored her love for existing in a space that she feels most herself and realising more than anything living in that space could be more important than any single person.
For things that drew me away from the novel - I for the most part adore descriptive books and see the appeal of vision for the sake of just expressing the world but sometimes it felt a bit too long and I found reading sometimes tedious in description. I feel like there were lots of big concepts that encroached on the novel that took too much of a backseat while Sophia sorted herself out; I liked the intricacies of her thoughts but found myself wanting a bit more of a revelation on, say, her conclusions on existence outside of a queer space, as a bisexual, fitting into groups which I feel were mentioned but didn't always feel completely concluded - not really an issue as much as it made the book feel sometimes more biographical than a fiction novel.
I did enjoy the book a lot though - I found myself relating heavily to Cara at times and then found myself embarrassed by some of her actions later as I found them immature but understandable of someone my age. I understood Sophia in a way that felt so reflective of my own personality and felt for her in her desire towards uncertainty but also wondering if she craved stability. I'll be honest and say I cared less and less for Robert as the novel progressed even as I understood what made him, often/occasionally, a good influence in her life - I'm a lesbian though so I can't deny my personal biases.
I listened to Troye Sivan's new album while reading the second half of this and think like the album the novel really captured what it can mean for some people to explore themselves and come out the other side of life feeling like you might not be okay but will probably be one day and that's alright.
December 15, 2023
I did not enjoy this book.
It’s about art and modern life, so it should have been interesting.
Instead, we have an insufferable main character, who wants to have her cake and eat everyone else’s too. The narrative is one huge, navel gazing existential monologue - poor me, I said yes to marriage, but I don’t know if I want to be married etc.
Honestly, if Sophia had just committed to anything, it would have been more interesting. Instead, it felt preachy, whiny, with a fair side helping of woe-is-me because I want everything and nothing at all.
Grrrr.
It’s about art and modern life, so it should have been interesting.
Instead, we have an insufferable main character, who wants to have her cake and eat everyone else’s too. The narrative is one huge, navel gazing existential monologue - poor me, I said yes to marriage, but I don’t know if I want to be married etc.
Honestly, if Sophia had just committed to anything, it would have been more interesting. Instead, it felt preachy, whiny, with a fair side helping of woe-is-me because I want everything and nothing at all.
Grrrr.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 18, 2023
I really struggled to get through this book. I felt at times the attempt to wade into queer issues came off as judgmental and privileged rather than insightful.
December 23, 2023
Very pretty but ultimately without substance, not unlike me.
March 5, 2024
2 ⭐️
Really wanted to enjoy this book but I honestly found Sophia insufferable most of the time.
Really wanted to enjoy this book but I honestly found Sophia insufferable most of the time.
June 20, 2024
Sad to report I found this novel underwhelming, borderline wanker-ish, and comprising a writing style that is far too fluffy/exaggerated for me.
December 20, 2023
OK – this book has killed my run of Sad Girl Millennial novels. Enough!
Sophia has an art history PhD and a fellowship overseas at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. At the beginning of the novel, her boyfriend Robert proposes to her, and she accepts in a kind of reflex action – then spend most of the novel wishing that she hadn’t. Luckily she has space to do this while occupying his New York apartment as he is away hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Sophia had previously been in a relationship with a woman and when she meets Cara (ironically while shopping for a wedding dress with her future mother-in-law) she is attracted to her. Cara seems interested as well. But Sophia is wracked by ambivalence about everything – and so uptight that forming any sort of connection with anyone seems fraught. One reviewer notes: “We don’t really get to know Cara in The Modern, she remains two-dimensional to the reader but hyper-real to Sophia. I think this is part of the point, an exploration of what it feels like to have an infatuation where the other person becomes a slate onto which you project. I read a review of the novel that described it as “solipsistic” but why aren’t women allowed to look in the mirror?” (https://binarythis.com/2023/09/29/boo...) Interestingly, that reviewer was in a real-life relationship with Blair and I read her review with a lot of interest.
At one stage Sophia says: “I didn’t want a term like bisexual, that trailed a disclaimer, a need for clarification, behind it. But who was asking me to clarify?... I didn’t want a term at all; I just wanted to exist in all my dimensions. Sexuality, to me, was something smudging and subtle, almost liquid, and labels hardened things, made them rigid, gave credence to categorization as an idea.” I sympathise with this idea though its kind of ironic coming from someone whose job it is to write museum labels.
Like Sophie, Blair worked at MOMA in 2016 as a Fellow. I enjoyed the snippets about the politics and attitudes prevailing in this museum – and would have liked a lot more from this angle. Instead, there is endless interiority from Sophia about her friends, her lack of friends, whether she is queer or not, why all the people she knows think that she’s straight – and as a major theme – the concept of what is modern. She asks questions such as: “Is marriage modern? Are clothes modern? Are houses modern? Children modern? Rats modern?“
This from a reviewer: “’What is modern - Is marriage modern? The question feels decidedly oxymoronic. In the context of same-sex marriage, which Blair touches upon, marriage is modern, so long as you don’t drill down to its ideological underpinnings: the history of marriage as property transfer, its requisite reproductive labour, the spectacle of grim-lipped, decades-long resentments sustained under the oath of “til death do us part”. By what barometer might we gauge “modernity” in marriage? Happiness? Unhappiness? Equality? Freedom to realise the self within the safety of mutuality?“ (https://theconversation.com/is-marria...)
Sophia’s research interests are in American artists such as Grace Hartigan. I felt my lack of knowledge in this area as she regularly referenced artists that I hadn’t heard of. It’s good to have the Internet to provide quick access to images – and I seemed to do this continuously as Sophia mused on how different artists and art works expressed something about her life. While this is interesting, every time it happened, I was pulled away from the narrative and unable to easily understand the point that she was making because my own entry points are limited. It both distanced me from the novel and made me feel a bit limited. Here is an example – I could have pulled out fifty from the novel with no trouble: “I wondered if I was a little like the museum itself, co-opting the aesthetics of the radical whilst living a bourgeois life, displaying posters for grungy, dive-bar screenings of The Ballad of Sexual Dependency on white walls that were touched up daily. I kept looking at The Parents’ Wedding Photo, wondering if my desires and my values coalesced.” [Incidentally, the artist referenced here is Nan Goldin.]
One reviewer said: “Although true to a character who is committed to scholarly pursuits, The Modern frequently references artists and academic theory in ways that are not always accessible to the general reader. These references do a lot of heavy lifting to show a protagonist in her own head, one step removed from experiencing her own life, and highly mediated through stories and theories. At the same time, they feel like digressions and, taken together, a touch excessive. While they inform character, it’s harder to see how they serve the narrative trajectory of the novel.” (https://www.artshub.com.au/news/revie...)
I found the rendition of Sophia really annoying. And because she carries so much of the narrative, has so few interactions with people and much of the novel is about what is in Sophia’s head, this matters. I agreed with this reviewer: “These questions foreclose any firm grasp on her character. Beyond the most rudimentary of identity categories – she is queer, she is an art historian, she is a former country girl turned big city idealist – she remains an enigma: a funhouse mirror whose true image is distorted through the projections of countless others. Even the most prosaic interactions are rendered opaque – an effect equal parts feverish and frustrating.” (https://www.inkl.com/news/the-modern-...)
In the end, I didn’t care what happened to her at all. You know how sometimes, you are cheering on the end of a bad movie, just wanting it to finish? That’s how I felt here.
Sophia has an art history PhD and a fellowship overseas at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. At the beginning of the novel, her boyfriend Robert proposes to her, and she accepts in a kind of reflex action – then spend most of the novel wishing that she hadn’t. Luckily she has space to do this while occupying his New York apartment as he is away hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Sophia had previously been in a relationship with a woman and when she meets Cara (ironically while shopping for a wedding dress with her future mother-in-law) she is attracted to her. Cara seems interested as well. But Sophia is wracked by ambivalence about everything – and so uptight that forming any sort of connection with anyone seems fraught. One reviewer notes: “We don’t really get to know Cara in The Modern, she remains two-dimensional to the reader but hyper-real to Sophia. I think this is part of the point, an exploration of what it feels like to have an infatuation where the other person becomes a slate onto which you project. I read a review of the novel that described it as “solipsistic” but why aren’t women allowed to look in the mirror?” (https://binarythis.com/2023/09/29/boo...) Interestingly, that reviewer was in a real-life relationship with Blair and I read her review with a lot of interest.
At one stage Sophia says: “I didn’t want a term like bisexual, that trailed a disclaimer, a need for clarification, behind it. But who was asking me to clarify?... I didn’t want a term at all; I just wanted to exist in all my dimensions. Sexuality, to me, was something smudging and subtle, almost liquid, and labels hardened things, made them rigid, gave credence to categorization as an idea.” I sympathise with this idea though its kind of ironic coming from someone whose job it is to write museum labels.
Like Sophie, Blair worked at MOMA in 2016 as a Fellow. I enjoyed the snippets about the politics and attitudes prevailing in this museum – and would have liked a lot more from this angle. Instead, there is endless interiority from Sophia about her friends, her lack of friends, whether she is queer or not, why all the people she knows think that she’s straight – and as a major theme – the concept of what is modern. She asks questions such as: “Is marriage modern? Are clothes modern? Are houses modern? Children modern? Rats modern?“
This from a reviewer: “’What is modern - Is marriage modern? The question feels decidedly oxymoronic. In the context of same-sex marriage, which Blair touches upon, marriage is modern, so long as you don’t drill down to its ideological underpinnings: the history of marriage as property transfer, its requisite reproductive labour, the spectacle of grim-lipped, decades-long resentments sustained under the oath of “til death do us part”. By what barometer might we gauge “modernity” in marriage? Happiness? Unhappiness? Equality? Freedom to realise the self within the safety of mutuality?“ (https://theconversation.com/is-marria...)
Sophia’s research interests are in American artists such as Grace Hartigan. I felt my lack of knowledge in this area as she regularly referenced artists that I hadn’t heard of. It’s good to have the Internet to provide quick access to images – and I seemed to do this continuously as Sophia mused on how different artists and art works expressed something about her life. While this is interesting, every time it happened, I was pulled away from the narrative and unable to easily understand the point that she was making because my own entry points are limited. It both distanced me from the novel and made me feel a bit limited. Here is an example – I could have pulled out fifty from the novel with no trouble: “I wondered if I was a little like the museum itself, co-opting the aesthetics of the radical whilst living a bourgeois life, displaying posters for grungy, dive-bar screenings of The Ballad of Sexual Dependency on white walls that were touched up daily. I kept looking at The Parents’ Wedding Photo, wondering if my desires and my values coalesced.” [Incidentally, the artist referenced here is Nan Goldin.]
One reviewer said: “Although true to a character who is committed to scholarly pursuits, The Modern frequently references artists and academic theory in ways that are not always accessible to the general reader. These references do a lot of heavy lifting to show a protagonist in her own head, one step removed from experiencing her own life, and highly mediated through stories and theories. At the same time, they feel like digressions and, taken together, a touch excessive. While they inform character, it’s harder to see how they serve the narrative trajectory of the novel.” (https://www.artshub.com.au/news/revie...)
I found the rendition of Sophia really annoying. And because she carries so much of the narrative, has so few interactions with people and much of the novel is about what is in Sophia’s head, this matters. I agreed with this reviewer: “These questions foreclose any firm grasp on her character. Beyond the most rudimentary of identity categories – she is queer, she is an art historian, she is a former country girl turned big city idealist – she remains an enigma: a funhouse mirror whose true image is distorted through the projections of countless others. Even the most prosaic interactions are rendered opaque – an effect equal parts feverish and frustrating.” (https://www.inkl.com/news/the-modern-...)
In the end, I didn’t care what happened to her at all. You know how sometimes, you are cheering on the end of a bad movie, just wanting it to finish? That’s how I felt here.
October 26, 2023
This book has some interesting conversations and an intriguing setting (I loved the glimpse into the art world, and will always enjoy a New York City setting) but the main character ruminates on everything so deeply and so repetitively that it's all internal monologue and no story. The characters were also quite unlikable and difficult to empathise with, since they were so self-centred. If you want to read a book that's mostly discussions of marriage, sexuality, careers and capitalism, you'll probably like this. Don't read it if you're looking for a novel with any plot, though.
October 12, 2023
Sheesh my prospects look slightly depressing
January 5, 2024
Art, curation, New York, career at MoMA, pondering on love - the perfect mixture (but something lacked, I didn’t like her boyfriend)
July 22, 2024
Queer Australian with a high work ethic, appreciation for art and high-functioning anxiety who has moved overseas suffers a quarter life spin... it almost felt like Anna Kate Blair had based a book on me. The nuance in comp-het theory, monogamy, prioritising individual ambition versus relationships and self-indulgent ideology (all through an artistic lens) was just fantastic, I couldn't stop.
October 21, 2023
I read 10 pages of this book and immediately knew I could not read anymore. The train of the thought jumps around construction and the main character was already boring and unlikeable despite having only been with her for a few pages and nothing had happened yet.
December 1, 2023
Enjoyed parts of it but found the main character grated on me.
Read
December 2, 2024Not sure what to rate this - this is encapsulating a very specific experience & I can see why it would be divisive. The core of the book is asking some great questions & it's what kept me reading - what is a modern life, what values have we kept/left behind & what does modern even mean?
Naturally, it's set in NYC & framed through an aussie lense of our main character, Sophia - which is an interesting idea but I do think as the book continues it becomes less interested in answering that and holistically & hones in more on values of queerness, fidelity & marriage, and then almost entirely on marriage & fidelity. unfortunately, I think losing that holistic view hurt the book a bit as it never felt like it's themes crystallised fully anywhere - though it came close.
it was also a very, VERY eerie read - there are many parts of the Sophia's life that were direct echo's of my own, and it, at times, felt like I was reading about a parallel version of myself - even down to the Sophia's favourite poet being Frank O'Hara. I think because so many specific details of my life were mirrored - the bisexuality, the close homocrush female friendships, the 6 year relationship, the meaning of art in her life etc - I found the queer/bisexual element the least interesting.
I almost feel that this is where the idea of what is it to be modern started to fail - I understand the lack of labelling herself (almost in opposition to contemporary ideas, perhaps?) - and it had a salient point about straight-passing - but I think to keep her on the outside of gay culture, and to almost dismiss its' relevance to her life (to the modern life?) is a bit disingenuous.
I can't tell if the book was suggesting that Sophia is so out of touch with herself that she is purposefully not in modern gay culture (and thus stuck in the past, literally in museums, and happy with it) and that the book is suggesting this is her path to contentment at the end -which seems questionable to me? Or that her continued lack of connection & divorce from that community (& especially from her relationship with women) & choosing to stay in museum's is because she's frightened of that contentment, and will never achieve it as long as she stagnates with the art around her?
I think it's truly a bit of both. But either way, for something that takes so much of the book, and of her interiority, her frustrations, feeling like an outsider etc - I wish there was a bit more resolution around that in general, even just a nudge for the readers.
Ultimately, glad I picked it up, also highly enjoyed the commentary around Modern Art in general, and of course, anything with Frank O'Hara in it is automatically a win for me.
Naturally, it's set in NYC & framed through an aussie lense of our main character, Sophia - which is an interesting idea but I do think as the book continues it becomes less interested in answering that and holistically & hones in more on values of queerness, fidelity & marriage, and then almost entirely on marriage & fidelity. unfortunately, I think losing that holistic view hurt the book a bit as it never felt like it's themes crystallised fully anywhere - though it came close.
it was also a very, VERY eerie read - there are many parts of the Sophia's life that were direct echo's of my own, and it, at times, felt like I was reading about a parallel version of myself - even down to the Sophia's favourite poet being Frank O'Hara. I think because so many specific details of my life were mirrored - the bisexuality, the close homocrush female friendships, the 6 year relationship, the meaning of art in her life etc - I found the queer/bisexual element the least interesting.
I almost feel that this is where the idea of what is it to be modern started to fail - I understand the lack of labelling herself (almost in opposition to contemporary ideas, perhaps?) - and it had a salient point about straight-passing - but I think to keep her on the outside of gay culture, and to almost dismiss its' relevance to her life (to the modern life?) is a bit disingenuous.
I can't tell if the book was suggesting that Sophia is so out of touch with herself that she is purposefully not in modern gay culture (and thus stuck in the past, literally in museums, and happy with it) and that the book is suggesting this is her path to contentment at the end -which seems questionable to me? Or that her continued lack of connection & divorce from that community (& especially from her relationship with women) & choosing to stay in museum's is because she's frightened of that contentment, and will never achieve it as long as she stagnates with the art around her?
I think it's truly a bit of both. But either way, for something that takes so much of the book, and of her interiority, her frustrations, feeling like an outsider etc - I wish there was a bit more resolution around that in general, even just a nudge for the readers.
Ultimately, glad I picked it up, also highly enjoyed the commentary around Modern Art in general, and of course, anything with Frank O'Hara in it is automatically a win for me.
September 25, 2023
As much as I really wanted to like this one, I really didn’t! I found it impossible to connect with the narrator protagonist Sophia - the millennial ennui of her narrative just wasn’t compelling enough for me to care about her character. On second thought, however, perhaps this makes her character a success? After all, the narrative is all about indecision - about her career, her sexuality, the notion of home, identity and relationships.
Blair’s ability to neatly capture a particular type of modern ennui à la Eliot’s J. Alfred Prufrock in writing as tightly written and laden with an updated late capitalist allusion was something I particularly appreciated. For example: “I was, sometimes, drawn into Instagram’s chains, jumping between hashtags and locations until I found myself unsure of how I’d reached the image I was looking at or the link I’d clicked. Today, I remembered certain points along the route I’d taken - the girls paused as they leapt into the air, the water beneath them still unbroken; the giant inflatable swan - but I was embarrassed to find myself on Amazon, looking at a product entitled Giant Bling Ring Inflatable Pool Float. On the box, a woman was shown clinging to the enormous ring, buoyant and boring, as if she were happy to drift wherever this ring might take her, whether that was toward a familiar shore or out into the shipping channels. THIS IS NOT AND SHOULD NOT BE USED AS A LIFESAVING DEVICE, read a warning at the bottom of the page.”
October 6, 2023
3.5 stars
The premise of this enticed me tremendously. If you love women specific and/or queer fiction, the art world and eloquent prose, you may just enjoy this book. I found most of the characters considerably grating (most likely because I’m closer to forty, not thirty or twenty like the characters) but the writing kept me engaged beyond any doubts I possessed. I just wanted to envelope myself in Blair’s lyrical sentences.
The premise of this enticed me tremendously. If you love women specific and/or queer fiction, the art world and eloquent prose, you may just enjoy this book. I found most of the characters considerably grating (most likely because I’m closer to forty, not thirty or twenty like the characters) but the writing kept me engaged beyond any doubts I possessed. I just wanted to envelope myself in Blair’s lyrical sentences.
February 11, 2024
"I wanted, I suppose, to embrace being female, with all its exaggerations and vulnerabilities. I felt as if there were a part of me that always wished for chaos, and I struggled with the temptation to give into those self-destructive urges, felt I might be a little more charismatic if I was a little less sensible."
To theorise on your own life so much to the point of stagnation! Terrifying!
To theorise on your own life so much to the point of stagnation! Terrifying!
Read
December 23, 2025enjoyed. the depiction of new york’s art world reminded me of a combo of the romanticised literary world in conversation with friends & also the cutthroat artist networking world of yellowface. cara was so unlikeable though that i made it hard to emphasise with sophia’s conflict, even though having a crush on someone who doesnt like you does feel like a pivotal adult coming of age experience.
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