When Sarah’s only friend in her graduate program is found dead of an alleged heroin overdose, she is forced back into the orbit of the man in their department who assaulted her. A hurtling ride of a novel—darkly funny and propulsive.
At a PhD program in southern California, Sarah and her best friend Nathan spend their time working on their theses, getting high, and keeping track of the poor air quality due to nearby forest fires. No one believes Sarah when she reports a fellow student for raping her at a party—“he’s such a good guy!”—and the Title IX office simply files away the information, just like the police. Nathan is the only person who cares.
When Sarah finds him dead of an overdose from a drug he’s always avoided, she knows something isn’t right. She starts investigating his death as a murder, and as the pieces fall into place, she notices a disturbing pattern in the other student deaths on campus.
As a girl, Sarah grew up in the forests of Maine, following her father on hunts, learning how to stalk prey and kill but only when necessary. Now, she must confront a different type of killing—and decide if it can be justified.
Notes on Surviving the Fire is a story about vengeance, the insidious nature of rape culture and ultimately, a woman's journey to come back to herself.
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the advance digital reader's copy! Publication date: 2/25/25
This is a gripping and unsettling exploration of trauma, vengeance, and institutional corruption. Notes on Surviving the Fire follows Sarah, a graduate student whose world is turned upside down when her best friend, Nathan, is found dead of an apparent overdose. Suspecting foul play, Sarah begins to investigate and confronts her own past assault by a powerful professor, uncovering disturbing patterns of predatory behavior on campus. It's equal parts woman unraveling + mystery thriller that comes to a surprising finale.
Murphy's writing is taut and propulsive, blending dark humor with a sharp critique of rape culture and the ways institutions protect the powerful. Sarah's emotional journey from isolation and guilt to reclaiming her agency is compelling, and the novel's portrayal of trauma is both raw and nuanced. The Southern California academic setting adds a fitting layer of tension to the story, amplifying the themes of complicity and survival.
Outside of the book itself, it's so serendipitous that the setting is in Los Angeles and there's a theme of wildfires happening in the book during the story. The title of the book itself makes me think of it in two ways: (1) literally surviving during a wildfire, and (2) surviving life, trauma, a super negative rape culture - all which can feel like you're fighting a fire in many ways.
Murphy delivers a stunning debut that tackles difficult subjects with honesty and emotional depth, making this an unforgettable novel. Just make sure you check out the trigger warnings with this one before you pick it up.
I don’t know how to write this review. Up until the 80% mark, Christine Murphy offered a searing narrative on how institutions fail survivors. The prose was unflinching, raw, painful but also imbued with snark that endeared you to the main character, Sarah. I really enjoyed the twists, especially with the advisor and Nathan’s betrayal.
WHY DID SHE HAVE TO START DATING A COP THOSODNKWLSNWÑW. Like girlie was taking L after L, drowning in the trenches, and then randomly??? We have this love interest?? And an abrupt swerve into serial killers??
I think this book should be required reading for all college students and administrators.
3.75/5 because it didn’t quite stick the landing but the themes or this book are crucial.
Sarah is a Ph.D student at the end of her program; teaching students, wrestling with her advisor, and spending most of her time with her best friend, Nathan. The two of them enjoy the occasional drug-fueled bender. When Nathan dies of an overdose, Sarah is convinced it was a homocide. The police don't take her seriously - afterall, she herself admits they were regular drug users, just not of the harder variety. Since Nathan was the one person who believed and supported her after her rape, Sarah feels a particular call to fight for him. Murphy writes with beautiful staccatto sentences that capture the detached emotion of her protagonist. I didn't think I would love the book - I found myself unsympathetic after reading the description. I'm neither a Ph.D student nor a drug user, as I think most of Murphy's potential readers would say. She absolutely captured me, and I found myself staying up late to find out what happened next. Sarah is great at compartmentalizing - she has to be in order to survive what's happened to her. That has to be a difficult perspective to write from, but Murphy handles it masterfully. Sarah's focus in her work is on the buddhism and violence, and the idea that while one of the core doctrines is nonviolence, violence itself can be justified if it prevents future harm. Absolutely fascinating when you pair it with the rapists found on every college campus, and how little is done to quash their future prospects as punishment for their actions. The book is an exploration of those ideas - violence and our response to violence. Highly recommend.
***Review of a digital Advanced Reader Copy (ARC). The text of an advance edition may differ slightly from the final market version that is distributed for sale. Received via NetGalley
Sarah is trying to finish her PhD in religious studies at a university in southern California, considering the threefold nature of Buddhist justifications for violence. Her fellow student and best friend Nathan has spent time in a Catholic monastery in the Dolomites and been celibate for over a decade, but he's still happy to take part in drink and drugs binges with Sarah where they rage against the machine. While Nathan comes from wealth, Sarah grew up in rural poverty in Maine; she still longs for the father, forests and little black dog of her childhood, but dog and dad are dead and she's now surviving wildfires on the West Coast. Three years ago, she was raped by a fellow student and is still dealing with the trauma. When Nathan turns up dead, supposedly of a drug overdose, Sarah's life starts to spin even more rapidly out of control. However, she's no 'messy millennial' protagonist, and I deeply appreciated how Christine Murphy allows her to be a full, angry, screwed-up human being while emphasising that actually, she's done everything right in academia and she still can't win. Her friendship with Nathan, too, immediately comes to life even though he's only on-page for such a short time, and this is crucial, because it's our investment in Sarah and in their bond that carries this novel. Notes on Surviving the Fire has been billed as a kind of revenge thriller, but it's not at all, except in the final chapters where it takes an ill-judged turn into genre that made me knock half a star off my rating. Most of the novel is about living in a world that is literally and metaphorically burning, but where there are still places that give you hope; sometimes, we can still go home. Sarah is brilliantly written, and even though this is not a plotty novel, her voice pulled me insistently through. A great debut.
Sarah is already having a bad time when this story opens: LA is on fire, her rapist is freely roaming campus, and her advisor will not get back to her about submitting for her PhD. Then her only friend in the world, Nathan, dies of an apparent drug overdose, and in pursuing answers as to how that could have happened, she discovers more about her friend than she bargained for.
It's interesting reading a lot of the middling-to-low reviews of this book on her and seeing everyone said they didn't like the writing style and the story has too much going on, because I actually love the style of the writing (I would absolutely pick up another book by this author on that alone), but I feel like the story is a little meandering and doesn't go anywhere. This is really more of a novel and about trauma and grief than it is about murder and mystery, but there is murder and mystery at the heart of it. It's a little meandering; Sarah goes from one situation to the next and a lot of times they don't really link up in a meaningful way, which is fine but there isn't a lot of payoff for most of these incidents. I kind of think this would be a better book if the author wasn't committed to writing a crime novel. Like, I think there's an alternate universe version of this story that ends right before the finale that could be a better book.
Let's also talk about the final sequence a little bit. We're really in the 11th hour when we find out there has been a killer on the loose this entire time and it's someone who was right under Sarah's nose the whole time. She is then faced with a moral dilemma that does serve the story but is ultimately unnecessary. And it's all set against the dramatic backdrop of LA on fire. I think we could have done without all this. I actually don't think there needs to have been a serial killer in this book at all, but as I've mentioned, I don't think this needed to be a crime novel. This whole final series of events kind of felt like "Oh shit, that's right this is supposed to be a thriller, let's make good on that real quick".
Christine Murphy is a great writer, I would absolutely read from her again. My hope is that she decides to pivot into literary fiction, where I think she would flourish. But if she's dedicated to writing suspense, I just think she needs to commit to the bit in a bigger way.
This was a literary thriller debut filled with feminist rage against a society where men can get away with rape and the victims just have to accept that there's little they can do in terms of getting justice. When PhD student and rape survivor, Sarah discovers her best friend Nathan dead from a supposed heroin overdose, it sparks a private investigation into what really happened that reveals secrets and enemies she didn't see coming. This was great on audio narrated by Jesse Vilinisky and perfect for fans of books like Know my name by Chanel Miller. Many thanks to @prhaudio for a complimentary ALC in exchange for my honest review!
Hmm.. so this was actually really good. I just didn't like the ending, it was still satisfying... it just wasn't what would have made this book an easy 5.
I really loved this literary mystery that was an amateur detective story, and a scathing indictment of the caste system at a large state university, AND a deeply moving story about the shattering repercussions of a sexual assault (readers advisory: this was hard to read at times).
I will also have to do a spoiler post on this book because it had some other interesting elements that are spoilers. BUT if you are looking for a book that's completely different: mystery + friendship story + SA survivor story grab this ASAP.
I also added it to my lists of YA Books About SA and Rape Culture and Books for Fans of Veronica Mars . I'm curious about the marketing strategy for this as it's a lot of things: mystery, millennial discontent story, political and social justice themes. I think it will really appeal to former Y2K YA/new adult readers. It reminded me of The Missing Hours by Julia Dahl (another excellent book that didn't fit into any of the typical publishing boxes). It's an excellent book and I hope it finds its audience!
Thanks to the publisher for providing an advance copy for review!
I have to say, I don't know where to even start with this review. The Notes on Surviving the Fire was nothing like I expected.
When I started reading this book the way I described it to people was: a woman's best friend dies under mysterious circumstances and she's sure he was murdered. She has a past of hunting animals so I'm pretty sure she'll start hunting some horrible men... Honestly I would have enjoyed that book, and 'good for her' type of books are certainly in fashion right now...
What I got with this book was so much better than I could have expected. It's not a good for her book, it's not a revenge story, it's not even a book about healing. It's about finding yourself after something horrible happens. It's about not letting people who hurt you control what happens for the rest of your life. And it's about our complexity as humans.
This book made me cry multiple times, it made me feel things I didn't expect to feel and it healed a little part of me that I didn't even realise needed that.
This story is about some extremely sensitive topics so it might be a good idea to check for some trigger warnings but it's a story so worth reading. I know it'll stay with me for a while.
This is tough - until 80% in, it was a contender for best of the year. It was so heartbreaking and honest and real about rape culture, trauma, and class structure. But then the ending was a bit too much of a push toward genre fiction and I felt like it lost me. I love the stream of consciousness style and insights, and I was prepared to gush about the book while warning people who like thrillers but not literary fiction not to be intrigued by the summary since it was more Donna Tartt than James Patterson. And then it kind of shot off into a direction that threw all that out. It went from brutal realism to revenge fantasy, and while the character was all about those kinds of movies, I’m not. I don’t think there are easy answers and/or vigilantes who are going to rescue women. I appreciate the concept about whether it’s okay to kill but honestly, I just don’t need imagined happy or vengeful endings. For most of us, rape happens, no one cares, and you never get better. I’m sick of being lied to that it does or can.
I hated this book from beginning but I finished it. I couldn’t get past the fake college, University of California Santa Teresa, really? Nothing sounded believable especially about the college. Couldn’t even use a real town. Long rants about Title IX. Book was a hot mess, the main characters memories jumped all over the place. The nicknames were annoying. At this university everyone can break the law and get away with it. Also everything written about California seemed like a stereotype.
There was one sentence that said something like 24 students have died at this school in the past year and nobody cares. If a bunch of spoiled rich kids go here people would definitely care. The author seemed out of touch and clueless about what really goes on at a university.
Notes on Surviving the Fire is a strange read. Sarah finds her best friend, Nathan, dead from a heroin overdose. She’s pretty sure Nathan never did heroin and is determined to try and find out who might have wanted him dead. She needs answers. Nathan was Sarah’s best friend but it soon becomes clear that she didn’t know everything about him. Nathan was one of the only ones who believed Sarah when she accused a fellow student of rape. The process of reporting the guy seems to have got her nowhere…and it’s clear that she is just one of a terrifyingly high number of women assaulted on campus. An unflinching examination of rape culture and the way it is reported/investigated. Sarah, used to finding patterns in random data, soon learns of a pattern in the number of student deaths on campus. A high number were also accused of rape. Could someone be using publicly accessible information to carry out their own acts of revenge? Dark, but strangely compelling read. Thanks to NetGalley for giving me the opportunity to read and review this.
“What is even happening?!?!” is precisely what I was thinking in the last 20% of this book - what a ride! Did I stay up too late to finish it, oh absolutely. There isn’t a good spot to pause in the last chunk of the book. Pause AND sleep?? Yea, right.
Not my typical genre, so it took me a bit to get into it. However, once there, my attention was held. A thriller that felt a bit like an amateur Law & Order SVU episode, heavy on rape, rape culture, and drug addiction, with a fair amount of feminine rage from a strong FMC - really portraying the unjust biases, acceptance among many, lack of accountability, and rage that these men continue to get away with their crimes.
I didn’t realize this was a debut novel by the author - further impressed!
Wow so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I first started reading but this is the sort of book that grips you from the first, so much so I read it in one go! It follows some difficult topics and how the author manages to write Sarah’s thoughts to make them so real is really great. A few points in this book I didn’t expect which I think will really appeal to thriller fans, but ultimately it is an highly emotional book about rape and revenge. Thank you to NetGalley for this arc
hm. I definitely found this book engaging, thought-provoking, and well-enough written. I saw a review that referred to it as whiplash-inducing, and I fully agree with that. The tone and action were sometimes all over the place, which was kind of jarring, and sometimes I did find it hard to tell what was actually happening, especially when things started to go a bit off the rails at the end .
I liked the main character foundationally - her backstory growing up hunting, her terrible status within academia, and most importantly, her academic focus of violence within Buddhism, which I feel like got explained a couple of times in the book. The entire book is focused on rape in a way that I don't understand but can only accept (reading The Body Is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love concurrently made me think about “We can accept humans and their bodies without understanding ‘why’ they love, think, move, or look the way they do. Contrary to popular opinion, freeing ourselves from the need to understand everything can bring about a tremendous amount of peace.” in this context).
The other characters were, not inappropriately, flatter. Nathan was maybe the next most complex character, and while he was pretty unusual, since I was reading Back After This at the same time, I saw a strange overlap with it in his observation “That is a definition based on negation, Sarah,” he says. “You love me for what I am not, rather than for what I am. It is a comparison rooted in conceptions of the other, rather than a conception of the subject itself.”
The constant "people in Maine are like THIS but people in (southern, especially) California are like THAT" was pretty silly to me, but I did find a lot of things funny or otherwise interesting in this book: - "and my research focuses on violence within Buddhist traditions. (Nathan thinks I should title it When Buddhists Kill, bleach my hair, and make a career at Fox News.)" - "His voicemail answers. “Hey, it’s me. If you think that is a grammatically correct statement, don’t bother leaving a message.”" - "...wonder if she is going to throw up. If she is so frail that doctors refer to her health as her constitution." - "Nathan said she was clean, but it’s hard to distinguish idealized femininity from the consequences of addiction." (maybe this isn't really funny, but I'm reflecting on how dark a lot of this book is, and if it's going to get lumped into some kind of dark academia which... I don't think it is. Or at least not the way that genre is generally considered.) - "“Most of us try to hide it. Shoot between our toes. Pretend we’ve got the flu for, like, years.” She laughs. “But no one can hide it. It’s so obvious when you know what to look for.” I nod. It’s uncomfortable, being a drug user around a drug addict. Like a sommelier in an AA meeting." (again ok maybe not funny but... interesting?) - "Bun reaches for a cookie off the buffet table. First Year frantically rearranges the color scheme." (Just the whole dynamic of being a grad student who has to arrange and sometimes consume crappy food at an obligatory meeting - this was really well done I thought). - a lovely tribute to Frog and Toad: "Frog and Toad. The two of them. Nathan was Frog, all kind eyes and patient words. I, with the swearing and the fucking and the history of violence, I am Toad." - I loved this description of bluffing into this common area: "“I am in the Engineering Department.” He looks at me. I look at him. “Which field?” “Civil,” I say, after the briefest of pauses. He straightens. “Which professor?” “Chris.” He looks at me. I look at him. “Well, OK, then.”" - "I reach a sign that reads “parking,” with a small heart above the “i,” even though it’s a capital letter, so I’m not sure what that’s about."
I found the cover (the one with the white/red background of the text) quite eye-catching - I noticed in at least 2 libraries that I can remember while I was waiting for my kindle hold to come in - but also... not great from my perspective to have a person's face on the cover. The other cover with the deer seemed better to me.
I can't tell if the author intends to write other books, but I would read them.
Somehow, the novel works both as a satire of the academy, particularly in relation to the plight of the lowly Humanities Ph.D. student, and also as a scorching indictment of how colleges and universities (and the police, and the judicial system, and society in general) deal with rape and sexual assault and the unspeakable victimization of women who seek redress for the crimes committed against them. Trying to turn this into a murder mystery, a suspense thriller, and a philosophical examination of guilt, redemption, and forgiveness just doesn’t work…but goodness knows, the author still gives it a try, only crashing and burning in the final few chapters where truly everything goes off the rails (quite literally). Despite this admirable failure, I liked the novel quite a bit…the character of Sarah is a mess but we still root for her, the humor is biting and on target, and clearly the author knows her material (she nails the humiliations of the academic job market). The discussion of Buddhism is just icing on the cake…even with all its problems as a novel, I ate it up.
3.75 ⭐️ maybe 4 I bought this on a whim when we got it in at work and you know…very surprised. What an interesting yet strange read. I did like it, but it was different from what I was used to. Thriller, amateur mystery, feminine rage, rape culture (university focused) and how men will constantly get away with it. Sarah is an angry (valid) MC who is literally hanging on by threads. She does some questionable things, but damn what a strong character. The last 50 pages? ….. I was stunned at how fast things developed. Pretty good debut novel for the author.
I thought the writing in Notes on Surviving the Fire was really strong—raw in the right ways and thoughtfully crafted. One of the choices that stood out to me was referring to the rapist only as “Rapist.” It was such a powerful way to shift focus away from him and keep the story centered on the survivor.
That said, the ending kind of came out of nowhere for me. It felt a bit rushed or disconnected, which brought the rating down a bit.
trigger warnings: sexual violence, drug use, suicide
i learned about this novel after attending an author chat with Murphy and a few other writers who discussed how they navigated “how do i tell a story without hella trauma dumping?” or “how do i tell a traumatic story without glorifying what happened?”
Highly recommended to readers that like obsessive narrators and anyone who can appreciate the nuance and care it takes to tell this story.
Have you ever read a book that had you simultaneously wanting to tear through the pages but also set it aside because it was almost too much? This was that type of book for me. It is an unflinching exploration of trauma, survival, and grief, all at the hands of the patriarchy. It's gritty, raw, and unapologetic, and not for the faint-hearted. Even though I didn't care for the reveal/twist at the end (it felt out of place), I ended up completely captivated by this book.
The story begins with Sarah, a graduate student in a PhD program in Southern California, doing her best to live her life while simultaneously dealing with some pretty awful trauma. Sarah was sexually assaulted by another student in her area of study, and when she reported it to the authorities and the university, it was documented and then pretty much swept under the rug. The only person who believes and supports her is Nathan, her best friend and fellow grad student. When Nathan is found dead from a heroin overdose, Sarah immediately suspects foul play. Nathan had always stayed away from hard drugs, so his death doesn't add up. Driven by grief, fury, and a determination to uncover the truth, Sarah begins investigating what she believes is a murder.
The more Sarah digs, the more she begins to believe that Nathan's death could be part of a larger pattern: other students on campus have mysteriously died under suspicious circumstances. Is it the stress of college, or is something more at play? Murphy uses Sarah's investigation to paint a harrowing picture of rape culture and the ways institutions bury evidence to protect perpetrators.
The book plays out during a pretty brutal fire season in Southern California. Everything around Sarah is literally burning, which further illustrates how everything in her life seems to be going up in flames - both literally and figuratively. Another thing that really struck me in the book was how Sarah's isolation is further emphasized through her refusal to fully name most of the people around her. Instead, she gives them nicknames, a method of detachment that basically underscores her trauma.
The book is very well-written. Murphy's prose is both jarring and mesmerizing, fluctuating between curt, direct statements and long, wandering reflections that mirror Sarah's fractured mental state. The result is a narrative voice that feels intimate and brutally honest. I seriously felt like I was living in Sarah's head, which made the book very intense. Sarah's thoughts are often fragmented and contradictory, but this disjointedness is crucial to the authenticity of her voice. Trauma does not lend itself to linear narratives, and Murphy captures this complexity effortlessly.
While I loved a lot of this novel, it's not without its flaws. Toward the end, there is a significant twist that reveals the true motive of one of the key characters. While Murphy does lay some groundwork for this revelation, it feels somewhat out of place, almost like it belongs in a different book. The twist disrupts the carefully constructed tone of the story and seems really out of place. Sarah's journey to uncover what actually happened to Nathan and reclaim her agency is already compelling without this plot development, and the twist kind of took me out of the book a bit. It wasn't enough to completely ruin things for me; it just seemed unnecessary.
Despite the random reveal, I found this to be a powerful, gut-wrenching read. Murphy refuses to sanitize or soften Sarah's story, allowing the full weight of her trauma and rage to take center stage. While it is a story about vengeance, it's also about healing and the slow, painful process of coming back to oneself after being fractured by violence. For readers who aren't afraid of gritty books filled with trauma and rage, I would highly recommend this one. Just be sure to check the trigger warnings. There are several.
"Now I wonder if my brain isn't keeping me from them but, rather, them from me. They do not recognize my scent, because they do not understand what I am, what I am good at. Buffered from the cruelty of the world, they do no pause before walking into the clearing. They do not know what a sightline is. They do not know they are standing in mine."
Not a genre for me. Idk it started off so so slow and then kinda got good and then just like lost any and all of my interest. I still felt like I needed to finish it but not sure I got much out of this.
Got so sick of the main character’s endless put down of almost everyone she encounters, dismissing everyone she meets as privileged, phony, pretentious etc. The only people who are spared are her wannabe boyfriend, another academic with who she dies vast quantities of drugs, and some yuppy farmers she meets later in the book. All the characters, including the protagonist, are FLAT. The grisly, unlikely episode of vigilante justice is right out of the worst grade B movie you could find. The main thread of the book, having to do with the prevalence of rape on campus, and how it is handled — a worthy subject — does not redeem this dreary, dreary book.
An intense thriller that focuses on Sarah who's completing her PhD at a California college. One day, her best friend Nathan is found dead and Sarah moves heaven and hell to get to the bottom of his murder. Will vengeance take priority or will Sarah show grace under pressure and work methodically to investigate Nathan's complex history?
A gutsy, smart, and even sometimes irreverently funny look at campus rape culture. Masterfully written so that the novel hums like a well-oiled machine, but you never see the twists and turns coming. I could not put it down. I could not look away. I cannot wait to see what Murphy does next.
Uneven writing, often good, often banal and turgid. Story moves slowly, with detours into pages of “feeling” while we want the plot to proceed. Quite involving at times, but the denouement is rushed and ludicrous. Heroine learns that in the end she “is not what happened to her” but you might expect a professor of Buddhism to have realized that more easily. Again, a strong plot poorly structured.
Unfortunately, the writing style of this book was just not for me. I found myself constantly feeling confused or just discombobulated about what was happening in the story throughout the majority of what I read. I do think that the concept of this story is interesting, but not one that I am interested enough in to push through the writing.
Thank you to Knopf and Netgalley for the advanced copy!
Who hurt you, Christine Murphy? Notes on Surviving the Fire feels dystopian, yet that seems absurd for a book set in a privileged PhD program. Sarah, the protagonist, experiences a gut-wrenching incident of rape, and no one takes it seriously. Unsurprisingly she is angry and vindictive. Her best (and only) friend, Nathan, who has supported her is found dead. It looks like a heroin overdose; Sarah is convinced he was murdered. The smoky atmosphere of California wildfires combined with Sarah's simmering anger create an unpleasant environment. Sarah goes on a quest to discover what really happened and finds more than she bargained for. Murphy has written an angry, bloody, druggy book that I found unlikely.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC! This book will be published in the US on March 27th, 2025 by Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor.
Christine Murphy’s Notes on Surviving the Fire is a novel that burns with righteous fury. It’s an indictment of institutions that fail survivors, meditating on anger, survival, and a tangled web of grief, betrayal, and systemic injustice. Through Sarah’s raw narration, Murphy immerses the reader in the unrelenting exhaustion of trauma and the impossibility of moving forward when the world refuses to hold abusers accountable.
Sarah’s story is not an easy one—assaulted by a fellow student and disbelieved by almost everyone except her best friend Nathan, she navigates a world where justice is a myth and bureaucracy is a barricade. She and Nathan, both former monastics, seek solace in each other and in substances, numbing themselves as Sarah fights to access therapy through a university more invested in protecting its reputation than its students. Nathan’s death, ruled an overdose, fractures what little stability she has left. But when Sarah starts piecing together the circumstances surrounding his death, she finds herself chasing a truth as grim as her own past—one that forces her to reexamine everything she thought she knew about him.
Murphy’s prose is unflinching, blending snarky, defiant interior monologue with searing social commentary. The novel is heavy with grief, rage, and exhaustion, painting a picture of a world where justice is a privilege, not a right. The institutional failures Sarah rails against—Title IX neglect, police indifference, economic inequity—are uncomfortably real, making her anger feel both personal and universal. But for all its thematic weight, the book stumbles under its own ambitions. There’s simply too much crammed in: California wildfires, Sarah’s childhood hunting lessons, her professor stealing her research, Nathan’s sister’s addiction—it’s a chaotic sprawl that never fully weaves together.
And then there’s the ending. The reveal of Nathan’s past lands with a thud, followed quickly by a second plot twist that feels more like shock for the sake of it than a meaningful conclusion. The novel asks whether redemption is possible, but its answer is muddled, buried beneath an ending that feels unnecessarily gruesome.
For all its ambition, Notes on Surviving the Fire didn’t work for me. Murphy’s writing is undeniably powerful, but the novel’s structure is too scattered, its twists too abrupt, its trauma too relentless without enough moments of respite. Some readers might find it cathartic—I just found it a bit tiring.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse (severe), Gore (severe), Blood (severe), Drug Use (severe), Alcohol (moderate), Rape (severe), Sexual Assault (severe), Alcoholism (minor), Fire (moderate), Drug Abuse (minor), Death (moderate), Sexual Content (minor), Vomit (moderate), Suicide (minor), Torture (moderate).