A tale of the American dream gone bust. A legacy of broken promises, deceit, and perseverance against the backdrop of the family commitment.
Dr. and Mrs. Henry Brier, with three young children, possess all the trappings of a perfect life...except Henry is having yet another affair. Without warning he abandons the family for his mistress and a new house on the other side of town.
Shifting perspective between Henry, Lora, and their eldest child, Josie, this brisk, short novel focuses on the effect of convenient lies and discovered truths, narrating the financial and emotional fallout of Henry’s betrayal. Interwoven with vivid snapshots of Midwestern life in the 1950s and 60s, we come face to face with a woman unable to comprehend the nature of her struggle, trying to nurture and provide for her children, and a daughter who tries to make sense of what she sees and feels. Evoking the works of Anne Tyler and Elizabeth Strout in theme and style, Fatherland portrays the complexities of family life in the aftermath of deception.
Victoria Shorr is a writer and political activist who lived in Brazil for ten years. Currently she lives in Los Angeles, where she cofounded the Archer School for Girls, and is now working to found a college-prep school for girls on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation.
I’m a fan of family sagas and this is a very good one.
Set in the “rust belt” and spanning the ‘40s to the 90s, it explores one family of three children and how they are impacted by the father, a charming physician, leaving for a woman he’s having an affair with during a time when divorce was still rare and rather taboo.
The characters are well-drawn and the author explores quite intricately the void left when we grow up having missed out on a positive parent figure.
I will be interested to read more by this author.
Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
Set in the Midwest, this coming-of-age story follows Josie, her two brothers, and their mother as they try to build a life in the absence of their father, who left when they were very young. Lora struggles to keep her dignity and raise her children without their father’s presence or any financial support from him.
The novel gives us deep access to the inner lives of Lora and Josie, providing the emotional depth needed to understand how each experiences the loss of a husband and a father. We also hear from Martin, the absent father, as he reckons with his choices—though I never felt his actions were justified. He comes across as a feckless husband and father. I especially appreciated how the author relies not on plot twists, but on quiet, well-chosen details to tell the story.
I appreciated how this story moves at a slow, deliberate pace, allowing the reader to sit with the characters’ emotions and see how abandonment shapes them over time. Josie is the emotional heart of this quietly powerful and layered novel, which explores the long-lasting impact of deception on a family.
Shorr’s writing style is realistic and restrained, making the family’s pain and resilience feel believable and deeply human.
I also thought the cover art captured the story perfectly—it reflects the uncertainty of memory, the fading image of a father, and the hollow space left by his absence.
As a clinical social worker, I found this book to be an excellent depiction of a narcissistic sociopath. For Martin Brier, it was easier to lie than to tell even a small, true anecdote. His self-serving and impulsive life is not only a tragedy for him, but a tragedy for others. It goes to speak that no amount of higher education can substitute for empathy, caring, and connection.
Lora Breier marries young, against the wishes of her parents. Martin is a WWII hero dressed in his whites, and she is smitten. Without considering her own future, she marries him and they proceed to have three children. She is aware of his philandering, almost from the start, but she chooses to look the other way and is hopeful that he will return to her. When she realizes that he has left for good, she doesn't have enough money to put food on the table or pay her mortgage.
The novel reverberates with the echoes of loneliness. Martin's absence is traumatic for both Lora and her children, especially Josie. For years, Martin remains a scepter, an unknown, not to be found in their lives. The children wait on the curb for him to pick them up, only to realize that he will not be arriving.
The novel is a painful read. We learn of Martin's impulsivity and his repeatedly messed up choices and decisions. Narcissists are somewhat interesting. On the outside, they seem strong and powerful, often charismatic. The truth, however, is that they are as fragile as an eggshell - easy to crack open and break apart, a human caricature of Humpty Dumpty.
I was pained by Josie's lifetime yearning for her absent father and Will's painful attempt at reconciliation. Despite her initial shock and disbelief, Lora finds ways to move ahead and care for her family.
This is the first book I've read by Victoria Shorr and I found her spare and evocative prose captivating. I wish that the middle section of the novel had more substance, but the beginning and end held things together nicely.
This short novel tells a story that was familiar to me, as it will be to many others, even if our own stories happened way after the 50s/60s and in another closed-off, struggling, rusty community either within or outside of the Midwest. Basically, an odious, self-absorbed, entitled, big fish in a small pond doctor abruptly abandons his father/husband/provider and head of household role in favor of more amorous hijinks, leaving his wife and family to pick up the pieces and all the neighbors and spectators ogling and speculating. None of this goes easily, as the whole flawed system is rigged — it’s rigidly set up to accommodate those traditional gender and class roles — but even as all this is falling apart, the entire community and economic infrastructure is also crumbling as the local industry declines as well. Basically, nothing is working anymore as it used to, for better or worse, with no ready replacement system quite yet at hand, and the novel attempts to recount a slow, gradual reckoning process.
I had a really hard time connecting and engaging with this book, perhaps it was too autobiographical and familiar a story, but I can respect what the author seems to have tried to have done. The story is told with a seemingly impersonal, remote, distant, what almost felt to me like a bird’s eye or Greek chorus view, like looking into a snow globe from above. It is very grave, economical, spare, somber, and serious, as though going for a timeless and weighty, monumental vibe. I can see that this really seems to have worked for many readers. It does stand out as something quite different — it felt as though I was reading a text that was written back in the time in which the story is set.
Many thanks to NetGalley, the author, and W.W. Norton and Company for the ARC. This book is expected out on March 10, 2026.
Lora Brier has an enviable life: married to a respected doctor with three perfect children and living a beautiful home. However, her husband Martin, is having another affair but this time it is different. Seemingly without any warning Lora finds her husband gone, her family abandoned and she needs to pick up the pieces of her ruined life. None of what follows will be easy for any of them.
This book nearly ended up being launched through the air simply because of the callousness displayed by the cheating husband. However, I forced myself to read what is not an easy narrative to stomach. Not only is Martin Brier a callous adulterer who leaves a trail of destruction in his wake, you get to see the small ways that such abandonments affect the wife, the children, friends, finances and parents.
The book did feel like it lost its way a little in the middle section but it is nonetheless a powerful novel which should hopefully teach all of us that even if we love someone, we also need to be savvy about our own wellbeing.
This novel reminded me of Strangers by Belle Burden, a memoir of the end of her own marriage. This novel echoes that real life situation. I would recommend both books. Whilst the characters in Shorr's book weren't, for me, particularly likeable, you certainly have to sympathise with anyone who finds themself in a situation entirely of someone else's making.
Thankyou to Netgalley and WW Norton & Company for the digital review copy.
3.5 stars. As someone with a tough relationship with their dad, this one felt close to home. I really liked the spare, restrained writing style and the way thoughts and details drove the novel forward rather than concrete, chronological plot. The weaving narrative and mix of memory and empty echos was beautifully done.
Fatherland does a lovely job of capturing the lifelong impact of family relationships (will I ever not think about my father at all?) and yet the persistent truth that the only behaviors and actions and truths we can control are our own - one of the hardest truths about being alive.
If you also have a crappy dad who wasn't crappy when you were little, the last few pages will sear with truth.
I will say this was a very difficult book to read because right from the start you know that it is going to be about a failing relationship. However despite this I managed to pull through and finish the book. I won't go into all the details but I will say you really have to admire how the mother manages to pull through and try to stay positive for the sake of her three children. Overall I give this story five stars
Doctor and Mrs. Henry Briar are living the American dream with their three children. They have the perfect house and the perfect life… Until Dr. Brier’s latest affair takes a turn and he finds himself with a pregnant mistress. Deciding to move on from the family that’s lost in Leicester to him and start fresh with his mistress. He simply abandoned his wife and family.
Lora is left to pick up the pieces and try to hold things together for her young children… thankfully she has caring and supportive parents that step up and make it all possible.
Told through the lens of Henry, Laura, and their oldest child Josie, the story quickly shifts and details, the changing dynamic and prosperity of Dr. Brier and Lora as time goes on and they each move on.
I found this to be an interesting look at family dynamics, and how your choices affect your future. Dr. Brier thought with every step he took, he would get something better and shinier and all he did was take away from the prosperity of his future. Well on the flipside Lori is stayed and sturdy as she takes care of her family and eventually finds new love and prosperity.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Dianna Perlman and found her reading to be a good match for the work. She does an excellent job, creating different voice work for her characters. I found that the emotion she brought to the reading really brought the individual characters to life and emphasized the vibe the author was portraying.
This novel opened with compelling promise, drawing me into the story of a man, Martin, who abruptly abandons his wife, Lora, and their three children for a life with another woman. The story set the stage for a complex exploration of betrayal and the consequences felt as a result of it. The first misstep for me was his decision to leave his family by slowly sneaking all his belongings out, piece by piece. This felt unrealistic, as a wife should certainly notice clothing disappearing over the course of a week or two. However, it did lay a strong foundation for Martin’s continued duplicity and the narrative’s central theme of abandonment, as it moves through a family one piece at a time.
However, as the narrative progressed, I found the character development uneven with the exception of Josie, his daughter. I found all other characters lacking. The author does attempt to provide insight into Martin’s psyche in the final chapters of the novel, revealing childhood insecurities and a deep-seated shame that permeated his childhood causing a fear of any responsibilities, but by that point, it was impossible for me to feel any sympathy for him. This delayed revelation, particularly in the final lunch outing between Martin and Josie, came too late to redeem his character in any way.
Lora, the wife, was frustratingly passive and weak. Her repeated forgiveness, such as when she covers for Martin’s absence at her parents’ house, while her children are going basically going hungry, made her appear more as an enabler than a fully realized individual. While I understand the novel’s intention to show the complexities of love and loyalty, these moments often stalled the emotional momentum for me.
Alternatively, Josie, the eldest daughter, stands out as the emotional core of the book. Her narrative journey was long and winding and left her deeply scarred, yet she still loved and valued her father throughout the novel. I found this to strikingly convey the long-lasting scars of abandonment as well as the deep and seemingly endless love and admiration granted to a parent by a child. The scene where Josie meets Martin for lunch at the mall was particularly enlightening, as it captured the subtle ways in which Josie finally realizes who her father really is and how different his life is from what she imagined. These moments of emotional insight are among the novel’s strengths. Unfortunately, the two sons, Willy and Timmy, are largely relegated to the background. Aside from an explanation from Willy near the end of the book, their experiences and perspectives are scarcely explored, which left the story feeling lopsided. The imbalance is especially clear in the way the narrative consistently returns to Josie’s internal struggles, while her brothers’ pain remains an afterthought both for their father and, it seems, for the author.
Despite these shortcomings, the novel succeeds in illustrating the far-reaching effects of abandonment and fractured family dynamics. As a reader, I found myself reflecting on the ways unresolved trauma can echo across generations. The author’s depiction of Josie’s resilience and the family’s tentative steps to move forward resonated with me, prompting a deeper consideration of forgiveness and the complexities of human relationships.
Finally, while the book falters in character balance and sometimes relies on abrupt shifts in reasoning, it also delivers genuinely affecting scenes and thoughtful insights into the aftermath of familial betrayal. It’s a story that left me both frustrated and moved, and one that will linger in my thoughts for its exploration of loss, resilience, and the long road to forgiveness after a lifetime of abandonment. Thank you to Book Browse for my advanced, free copy of the novel in exchange for my honest review.
Victoria Shorr’s Fatherland is a slender, deceptively swift novel whose modest length conceals a deep reservoir of emotional complexity. Set in mid-1950s Cleveland, the book initially presents a carefully burnished tableau of postwar domestic prosperity: Martin Brier, a successful physician; his devoted wife; and their three children ensconced on a leafy, respectable street. Yet this polished surface fractures abruptly when Martin abandons his family without warning, leaving not even a note behind—simply decamping to a new life with another woman. The shock of his departure reverberates outward, exposing the fragility of the American family ideal and the quiet endurance demanded of those left behind. The novel’s emotional center of gravity rests largely on the shoulders of Josie, the daughter, whose consciousness becomes the primary lens through which we experience the aftermath of abandonment. Shorr is particularly adept at rendering the ambivalence of a child caught between loyalty and rage, longing and self-protection. Josie’s yearning for her father’s return—despite his unforgivable betrayal—feels painfully authentic, as does her gradual recognition that love does not guarantee reciprocity. Some of the novel’s most affecting moments unfold in silence and stillness: the children waiting outside in hope, scanning the street for a figure who never arrives; the mother’s relentless, almost delusional faith that tomorrow might bring restoration. These quiet details accumulate into a powerful emotional reckoning. The mother’s character, with her almost willful self-effacement and determination to mold herself into whatever version of woman her husband desires, provokes understandable frustration. Her devotion—so emblematic of the era’s constricting expectations for women—can feel infuriating, even tragic. Yet Shorr resists caricature, allowing us to witness the slow evolution of the family in Martin’s absence. Over time, the mother hardens into a quieter strength, the sons detach, and Josie learns to sever emotional ties in order to survive, arriving at a state of reluctant sympathy for her father’s diminished, almost pitiable circumstances. One wishes, however, that the novel lingered longer on the mother’s interior life as she grows and changes; her late-stage resilience feels earned but underexplored. Ultimately, Fatherland is a restrained, reflective novel that lingers long after its final page. It is less concerned with dramatic confrontation than with the slow, interior shifts that define how people endure loss and disappointment. Shorr offers a meditation on abandonment, gender roles, and the quiet recalibration of love when illusions collapse. It is a novel that rewards patience and contemplation, asking the reader to sit with discomfort rather than resolve it—and in doing so, captures something profoundly human.
Thank you to BookBrowse and the publisher for an ARC in return for an honest review.
I downloaded this novel on Audible to keep me company while doing admin and housework, and I soon was swept into the post-War, American Dream world of Fatherland.
As is the case with most literary fiction, the key elements were the world building and the character development and Victoria Shorr walked a fine line between examining the mindset of the eponymous father in the novel and justifying his actions. I was full of admiration for how she managed to let us see his thought process and the disaster to his happiness and self-identity of his foolish choices, without rooting for him.
I also liked the way that she showed the children in the situation turn out to be functioning adults because of the parenting they received from their Mom and grandparents but did manage to show the things they each felt they missed by their father's abandoning them.
Josie, the only girl in the family is the centre of much of the action. We find out about how she has absorbed the pain of her father, Martin's, walking out and, presumably learning from her mother Lora, centres her own life on a version of independence that allows her to have independence without becoming bitter or anti-men or anti-marriage. Her mother has, by being herself, modelled forgiveness without the need to expose yourself to further harm by exposure to the cause of the pain. Her grandparents have supported their daughter by moving into the house Martin abandons and throwing themselves into helping raise their grandchildren. And, ultimately, Martin reveals himself to Josie to be more hopeless than malicious - she meets up with him as an adult and witnesses the little life remaining to him. She pities him, but, like Lora and her brothers, is able to focus on her own life, which is much bigger, surrounded by family love and support while Martin is still chasing the same things he did in his twenties.
I also liked the way that we saw the importance of education and contraception. Had Lora completed college before marrying Martin, her life would have been more economically secure when he left, but for her the patriarchy still worked in a way because her Dad stepped in and helped her. We see the precariousness of women in this era, and can compare that to Josie, who is able to secure her life and still have a family of her own.
In brief, this is a great read for anyone who wants to explore post-War USA. Parts of it are a little depressing, because of the nature of the story, so listen when you are in the mood for a sad tale that ends happily. (I hope that's not a spoiler).
Fatherland is a book defined not by a presence, but an absence, and the absence is so achingly palpable for a young girl named Josie, her two brothers, and their mother Lora that it has its own vibration.
It begins at a picture-perfect wedding party, as Martin Brier, a handsome doctor with a beautiful young family is about to shatter their lives as he goes off to his new love obsession. His obscene selfishness – his unbridled narcissism – is astonishing, but this is the 1950s and it is the Midwest, and no one gets divorced. It’s the time that some people still think of as an era when America was “great”, when one steel worker could support a whole family, when a man from a poor background could make something of himself and get away with anything.
But for a woman? Lora has no skills and no options. And the Black housekeepers who work for her, thanks to her parents, are in tougher shape than she is. Her daughter Josie, the heart of the story, witnesses all this as she continues to look out the window yearning for her father or standing on the curb with her brother Will and waiting despondently for anyone driving by to see.
In spare and transcendent prose, Victoria Shorr gently carries us through the years as Josie’s unwilling citizenship in Fatherland morphs from profound emptiness to curiosity to detachment and to pity at this amorphous character who calls himself “dad” – a man who has achieved professional success at the cost of one failure after another in his personal life. One might imagine him as a Great Gatsby, fruitlessly and mindlessly following that green light that leads nowhere.
But the story isn't his to tell. It's the story of his survivors, the family who managed to triumph without him. Josie realizes, “He’d come too early and stakes his claim, taking possession of that piece of her soul’s territory where she would always be the bereft child running to him, and he would always be the sovereign father, shoving her away.”
It's a lovely book that’s hard to put down, and I thank BookBrowse and W.W. Norton for the opportunity to read it early in exchange for an honest review.
“Fatherland” sounded intriguing on NetGalley so I requested it. It’s a novel about a family in the 1950s, continuing on through the 1990s. Dad Martin is a doctor who is–no way around it–a total jerk. He has an affair and ends up leaving his wife and three young kids in favor of his new love, who is pregnant. We follow events through the eyes of his oldest daughter, through his original wife, and through his own perspective.
After several years Martin also tires of the second wife and takes up with a teen girl, the daughter of a friend. That relationship goes sour too, and I think that’s the end of his marriages. He never really has a redemptive arc, but does meet with his original three kids a time or two for a meal.
“He had a lovely wife, beautiful children…surely that was something to him? To her it was everything,” his original wife thinks.
“Here were three well-brought-up young persons for him to take out to lunch, with a connection he might now safely claim,” Martin thinks, as he meets his adult kids at a restaurant. “No begging about to take place in that parking lot; no sobbing, no one clinging to his knees…”
Shorr’s writing is good; she does a masterful job of capturing the emotions and thoughts of various characters, in spare language that doesn’t waste words. Maybe it’s just that I read this on the heels of “And the Ladies of the Club,” a sprawling novel about many intertwined lives, but “Fatherland” suffered by comparison. Here we are given just snippets of life, often with many years between episodes, and the story has many gaps, being told in what feels like a detached way. A long epilogue tries to tie in the industrial decline of the Ohio neighborhood where the formative years of Martin’s original wife and kids were set, but this doesn’t seem to quite fit. I also wanted more from Martin’s two sons, from whom we hear only a small bit. Martin being so unlikable made it difficult to really bond with “Fatherland” as well.
I might give other books by Shorr a try since her writing was good.
I received an Advanced Reader Copy from W.W. Norton & Company through BookBrowse.
Victoria Shorr takes a story that, objectively, has been told before, but gives a unique voice to it, resulting in a story that will resonate with readers on many levels.
Fatherland follows the Brier family in the backdrop of the Cleveland suburbs during the mid-century. Allusions to the picture-perfect town and upbringing is countered by Shorr's unapologetic portrayals of flawed characters with narratives that place the reader as an outside observer.
Never fully connecting to the characters, but getting a full glimpse into their lives. The writing style takes some time to get used to and evokes authors from that time period who also wrote of disintegrating domestic bliss (Mildred Pierce comes to mind). The chapters are short, however, and the writing style draws the reader in after a few pages.
Shorr creates scenes throughout the story, which mostly centers around Josie, the eldest child of the Briers, that will seem familiar to many readers (whether through lived experience or other representations in literature or movies depicting that time). While not overly emotional, the distance Shorr places between the reader and the characters is effective in allowing the reader to "observe" more. The elegant writing is particularly compelling in its briefest moments, when Shorr can boil down a human experience to a beautiful, bittersweet description.
The final moments of the book, with Josie and her mother driving through the countryside waxing nostalgic about their former hometown while juxtaposed with the decay of the Rust Belt is a highlight, as is Josie's final connection with her derelict father.
This book probably won't be satisfying for every reader, especially those who appreciate fully fleshed out characters, but it is a fast read with a unique voice that is well worth the short time it takes to read.
I requested and received an eARC of Fatherland by Victoria Shorr via NetGalley. Set in a Midwestern town in the 1950s, Fatherland follows Dr. and Mrs. Henry Brier, a couple with three young children, who appear to lead a seemingly idyllic life. Beneath the surface, however, discontent is brewing. Henry is having another affair, this time with consequences. Without warning he leaves his family and takes up a new home with his mistress on the other side of town.
Fatherland is a short, incisive novel that packs a tremendous punch. Shorr's story is told through shifting perspectives and really captures the ripple effect of Henry's decision to abandon his family. This really allows the story to delve into the psychology of the primary narrators (Henry, Lora, and their daughter Josie.) Through spare prose and a narrative approach that values realism, the author is able to evoke an emotional response from the reader. There was a sense of intimacy with each of the characters that I appreciated, and it gave the story a depth that served it well.
If I’m being totally honest, I could barely suppress the rage I felt when reading the sections told from Henry’s perspective. He’s a loathsome character, very selfish and manipulative, but even through all of these terrible character flaws, Shorr is able to find grains of humanity in him. Lora and Josie are the heart of the novel. They’re both very sympathetic characters and I was eager to see how their lives turned out. Josie in particular has little flares of humor that I quite liked. Ultimately, Fatherland is a novel about ruptured families, abandonment, and the consequences of choices and what we build from them. I enjoyed every page.
Victoria Shorr's Fatherland is a quiet, intimate family drama set in 1950s Ohio, built around a single act of betrayal. Martin Brier — successful doctor, husband, father of three — abruptly abandons his wife Lora and their children to start a new life with his pregnant mistress. What follows isn't a story of dramatic confrontations or legal battles, but something slower and more lasting: the long shadow that absence casts over the people left behind.
The novel is very much a character study. Josie, the eldest daughter, serves as its emotional anchor — her journey from a confused child waiting for her father to return, through anger, and eventually to a kind of detached, complicated pity as an adult is the book's most affecting thread. Lora, meanwhile, evolves from a woman frozen in 1950s propriety as her world collapses around her, into someone quietly resilient. Even Martin is granted perspective chapters, which makes him frustratingly human rather than simply a villain.
The narration by Dina Pearlman suits the tone perfectly — steady and thoughtful, a good match for Shorr's spare, elegant prose and the story's introspective mood.
This won't be for everyone. The pacing is deliberately gentle, the emotional register consistently melancholy, and the ending more reflective than climactic. But for readers who appreciate subtle psychological depth and honest, observant character writing, it's a quietly moving portrait of how families learn — or fail — to live with disappointment.
Many thanks to HighBridge and NetGalley for an advanced copy of the auidobook for an honest review
I received a complimentary copy of this book from BookBrowse.com in return for an honest review.
Rating: 3.5
The central story line of Victoria Shorr's fifth book is the effects of a father's abandonment of his family, with most of the story focused on his oldest child, Josie, who is 6 at the time he walks out. Martin Brier is a prominent doctor with a beautiful wife, a lovely home and three children, the youngest just 8 months old. The story follows the reactions and impacts of Martin's behavior on his wife and his daughter (with some references to his sons, who were younger when he left) until after his death 50+ years later, in 1996. Shorr does a good job of identifying the impacts, and of weaving them into a compelling story. However, the story is told in discreet chunks, with long time gaps between, so that while the reader learns how the characters have evolved over time, one doesn't have a good grasp on the "why" of the evolution and the characters come to feel rather shallow. There's also a lot of contextualizing -- stories about the Decline of manufacturing in the Rust Belt -- that feels a little overdone. It's helpful in giving the story a sense of time and place, but detracts from the main theme . The book is an easy and quick read, and Martin makes a good villain, but on the whole I wouldn't give the book a strong recommendation.
Thanks to NetGalley, W.W. Norton and HighBridge Audio for the digital copy of this book; I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Content warnings provided by reviewers on Storygraph:
Graphic: Abandonment Moderate: Infidelity Fatherland is the sort of book I like to immerse myself into. The focus in on a midcentury Midwestern family, the Briers. It’s a case of nothing is at it seems. The time period that the current regime seems to wax rhapsodically about is a false one, as this book shows. The Briers are seemingly living the American Dream, but peel back the layers and one sees the rotten apple.
This family saga shows what happens when a man abandons his family, the female resilience needed, and one daughter’s internal struggles throughout her life. You travel through time in the Rust Belt from the 1940s through the 1990s and see the trajectory of Josie’s life, deeply affected by her father’s infidelity and abandonment. This generational trauma is lived by Lora, her mom, and herself.
This book was narrated by Dina Pearlman, and she has a great voice for the content. There are obviously parts that bring one down as you read/listen, but the resilience of the Brier family holds strong and Fatherland has a satisfactory ending. This slow burn of a novel sit with you long after you finish.
This is a coming-of-age novel set in Ohio spanning about 30 years as a young girl deals with the loss of her father through divorce.
The novel has an eeriness to it as you read. It starts with creepy Martin Brier at a wedding plotting how he’ll remove his clothes from his house. He’s leaving his wife and three children for another woman and not planning on telling them. The book moves back and forth with different characters sharing their views through an omniscient narrator. The breakup of the family has a profound impact on Josie, the oldest child such that she has a lot of angst and ambivalence.
The book explores “fatherhood” and its impact on children. Martin is a most selfish, obnoxious and devious character. Everything revolves around him and his mean spiritedness knows no bounds. He is definitely not father of the year material. Jodie and Will experiences Martin in all his selfish splendor but manage to have successful lives because of their mother, Lora, who could have been fleshed out more, who manages to eventually find happiness.
I enjoyed this book. The narration really sparkles in its simplicity.
Thank you NetGalley and W.W. Norton and Company for allowing me access to this ARC.
This book snuck up on me to my surprise. Initially I did not understand what was happening and was considering not reading further. I’m so glad I did. Now having finished the book I realize that the author was merely setting the stage for what was to come. I reread the beginning and decided maybe I just wasn’t paying attention. Pay attention throughout the book. The author takes us into the private thoughts of all the main and sometimes minor characters. Slowly but surely you are pulled into the emotional state of their lives. The end of the book takes the mother and daughter down memory lane. I found it was very relatable for anyone who lived somewhere for a very long time, moved away and then years later returned to see what had changed. The father in the book was despicable. However, the author told this story in such a way that at the end I felt sorry for him which definitely surprised me. Finally, I still don’t know why it’s entitled “Fatherland”.
3 1/2 stars. This story starts with Henry and Lora Brier, a couple who live in Ohio with their three young children. Henry is having an affair, and little by little he’s removing his clothes from the house, with the intention of divorcing Lor and moving in with his new (pregnant) girlfriend. The story follows the family as they deal with the aftermath, mostly focusing on the couple and their oldest child, daughter Josie. Telling the story from those three perspectives was an interesting choice by the author. Jumping from character to character and from year to year wasn’t as confusing as it can sometimes be. The only part of the book that didn’t work for me was the last part, where Lora and Josie go back for a funeral and drive their old town, looking for landmarks and memories. This section was too long and detailed and didn’t really add to the story. Thank-you to NetGalley, W.W. Norton and Co., and Ms. Shorr for the ARC of this title.
Having read FATHERLAND, I intend to read earlier novels written by this author. The book is nicely paced, but I was hooked on the story by the first two chapters where it becomes clear what the father had in mind.
This is a family saga which at its heart explores the effects of a father's abandonment of is family. Essentially, the book is about how a doctor's three children are impacted by the father's decision to leave their mother and them for another woman. The story is mostly seen through the eyes of Josie, one of his children.
As one would expect, the father (Henry) is very selfish when he leaves his wife (Lara) and his kids. However, the father's perspective is shared even though most readers probably couldn't support what he is doing.
The book was hard to put down; it was a fast read.
The best line in this book was on the first page, “his wife, looking pretty for the first time since the baby” and it hooked me, as a rebuke to Rabbit Angstrom’s famous assessment of his wife, that she “just yesterday had stopped being pretty.” Shirley Shorr had alluded intentionally and the reader was to be delighted with a reimagining of midcentury American domesticity… But the only serviceable writing in this book is on the first and second to last page. There is no polite way to say this, but I not only found the prose flat and unrevealing throughout the intervening 230 pages, but the characters do nothing interesting, they convey nothing, they appear to have been created with absolutely no feeling. I cannot believe this book was read by an editor, as 9 out of 10 sentences appear to not have been gone over with even a rough sanding.
This was a very unexpectedly pleasant read. The first third of the book truly felt like a horror. You are trapped in the box society placed women and mothers in the 1950's with heartbroken and desperate Lora. The book spans decades and there is very little plot but the characterization carries it along. I do wish we got to see more from Lora's perspective, as I found her to be the most well written along with Martin. Martin is certainly the most interesting character in my opinion. The author never tries to make you empathize with him but she does draw a very human portrait of male mediocrity that wrests an ounce of pity from me.
Fatherland is set in an American town from the 1940s to the 1990s. When a father of three leaves his wife for his pregnant mistress, the entire family is affected. The novel jumps POV with each chapter, even giving voice to the family's maid and her thoughts surrounding the husband's abandonment. The author explores the complex feelings around divorce at a time when it wasn't the norm and brought shame and embarrassment to those involved. The title refers to that place where we feel secure, loved, at peace in a "fatherland" of warmth and the protection. of our parents. How are children impacted when this land is missing in their lives? How does the abandoning father feel about his own actions, and do those feelings change as time goes by? The narrator does an exceptional job with this novel that has very little dialogue. This was a very enjoyable and thought-provoking and I look forward to more from this author.
Fatherland is a testament to the families who so gracefully navigate the confusion and heartache that come with parental abandonment & about a father’s impact or lack thereof on his children’s lives, particularly his daughter. I enjoyed many aspect of this novel though the subject matter angered me (rightfully so). The father’s perspective added a nice layer, although there was little sympathy to be found for him.
I would’ve loved to see a deeper dive into the “before” family dynamic. I think that would’ve left more of a lasting impact of the abandonment on the reader. Overall, it was enjoyable and I wanted to keep reading!
Have you ever closed a book and heard the end-credits music play in your head? Reading Victoria Shorr’s Fatherland felt like the final scene of Fried Green Tomatoes when you are returning to a town that’s been boarded up and handed over to the ghosts. By the end, I was seeing a movie montage of everything I've ever left behind. I was addicted to this, even when the prose felt like needle-stabs to old wounds. My heart ached for Josie, but I couldn't stop. It’s evocative, relatable, and deeply bittersweet. This is a 5-star experience that helps and hurts in equal measure.
Cueing up Thomas Newman’s 'The Whistle Stop Cafe' to keep the credits rolling.
I enjoyed every moment of this book especially when it takes place. The struggle of the American Dream with a little domestic drama kept me consumed by the plot. Martin was an interesting character and I had mixed feelings about him of course but I really just enjoyed being an anonymous observer in the drama of the characters. It was interesting to see how as time went on, the effect everything had on Josie. Definitely an insightful read. I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
Thank you Netgalley for this advanced audio edition of Fatherland by Victoria Shorr.
DNF, made it about 50% then I had to quit.
What am I missing here? This was just depressing, to depressing-er. If I need to sit and hear all about how a sh*tty man abused and abandoned his family, I've already got plenty of IRL stories like that to keep me despondent for days. There just wasn't anything redeeming about this to keep me going. The audio narration wasn't even that good. It had no heart, no organization, I just could not keep going.