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Helen of Nowhere
An electrifying novel about the delights and dangers of starting over.
In the middle of the countryside, a realtor is showing a disgraced professor around an idyllic house. She speaks not only about the home's many wonderful qualities but about its previous owner, the mystifying Helen, whose presence still seems to suffuse every fixture. Through hearing stories of Helen's chosen way of living, the man begins to see that his own story is not actually over—rather, he is being offered a chance to buy his way into the simple life, close to the land, that's always been out of reach to him. But as evening fades into black, he will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated.
Philosophically and formally adventurous, at once intimate and cosmic in scope, Helen of Nowhere What must we give up in exchange for true happiness?
In the middle of the countryside, a realtor is showing a disgraced professor around an idyllic house. She speaks not only about the home's many wonderful qualities but about its previous owner, the mystifying Helen, whose presence still seems to suffuse every fixture. Through hearing stories of Helen's chosen way of living, the man begins to see that his own story is not actually over—rather, he is being offered a chance to buy his way into the simple life, close to the land, that's always been out of reach to him. But as evening fades into black, he will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated.
Philosophically and formally adventurous, at once intimate and cosmic in scope, Helen of Nowhere What must we give up in exchange for true happiness?
145 pages, Kindle Edition
Published September 9, 2025
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2728 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 70 reviews
May 31, 2025
This did not work for me, unfortunately. I don't think I've read two books from the same author that feel so different in writing. I liked The Shame for its acerbic humor and charm, but Helen of Nowhere feels like it is trying too hard to be profound.
The plot seems like a hybrid of Mrs. Dalloway and A Christmas Carol in that the events take place over a single day, and our narrator is visited by a ghost who helps him reckon with his life. He is an unreliable narrator who only gives us glimpses into the breakdown of his marriage.
I fear I may be too stupid to really get what this book is trying to say... The main commentary of the book is that the husband takes his wife for granted, exploits their power dynamic, and she performs domestic and professional labour that contributes to his success at the expense of her own. Which is all fine and valid - but not particularly groundbreaking. Nothing brings the disjoint plot elements together, and it could be argued that the ending undermines much of the book's commentary.
Both of Goodman's novels center on the domestic lives of women and how they navigate them in a modern world, but ultimately, I think The Shame is a better execution of it. The writing has some poignant remarks but is bogged down by ambiguity and the inability to commit to a central plot arc.
Thank you to Coffee House Press for the advanced copy.
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Lucy Dacus gave this 5 stars and that was all the encouragement I needed
The plot seems like a hybrid of Mrs. Dalloway and A Christmas Carol in that the events take place over a single day, and our narrator is visited by a ghost who helps him reckon with his life. He is an unreliable narrator who only gives us glimpses into the breakdown of his marriage.
I fear I may be too stupid to really get what this book is trying to say... The main commentary of the book is that the husband takes his wife for granted, exploits their power dynamic, and she performs domestic and professional labour that contributes to his success at the expense of her own. Which is all fine and valid - but not particularly groundbreaking. Nothing brings the disjoint plot elements together, and it could be argued that the ending undermines much of the book's commentary.
Both of Goodman's novels center on the domestic lives of women and how they navigate them in a modern world, but ultimately, I think The Shame is a better execution of it. The writing has some poignant remarks but is bogged down by ambiguity and the inability to commit to a central plot arc.
Thank you to Coffee House Press for the advanced copy.
---
Lucy Dacus gave this 5 stars and that was all the encouragement I needed
Read
February 18, 2026I tend to write longer reviews lately. Sometimes, i a bit worried that people need to find time reading all of this. But then again, if a book is alive in my mind, i want to talk about it even if to the audience of one:-). However, this review would be slightly more concise. This novel was a disappointment. That is a summary with a bit of more details below.
Recently, we’ve discussed here the potential of an individual curation in the future of the books’ world. This novel seemed to be an ideal example of something handpicked for me: published by one of my favourite presses, invitingly blurbed by Rachel Cusk as a book ‘with an insanity inside its sanity – or the other way around’ (i am huge fan of her); and also recommended by Merve Emre, a star critic. A novel is structured in six acts, like a play; each with its own narrator. I like the polyphony in fiction. So i could not wait to get hold of the book. I’ve expected something ‘extraordinary’ (a word from another blurb). And for the first ‘act’ it was quite promising.
The first ‘voice’ was of a middle aged literature professor teaching through transcendentalism. He has recently fallen out of favour with the faculty, estranged from his wife and respectively was in the process of reevaluating his life. Initially, i’ve had an impression the author would explore the complexity of this character without creating a caricature. At one stage, it looked like she would subvert Stoner for our time making him a bit more self-aware. And i loved this idea. The sentences were good: immensely quotable, ‘cuskian’ in spirit (though lacking her trade mark ambiguity).
But unfortunately it went downhill from there. Unless it has meant like a very subtle satire, the narrative has become very earnest and was reduced to the tropes of toxic masculinity, toxic faculty politiking, toxic power dynamics in a relationship, toxic industrial agriculture etc, etc. Even the Holocaust was brought in on a tangent with a saviour of Jews (she was not named but i suspect it was Marion Pritchard). She was mentioned once as a relative of a character. I am not sure why she was required there. There were too much of these themes. The development of each of them were following a well-trodden path. The attempt to examine dichotomies such as takers vs doers; man vs woman; city vs nature etc have not brought up any new tension between these opposites either. Very soon it has become evident that it would be a multiple discourse driven text rather than a voice driven.
The uncanny element was as well pretty basic by any stretch of imagination. At some stage, a literal crystal ball has appeared! Among other things ‘a female medium’ (or may she was just an older woman - this might be a part of the mystery) was advising to the professor how to get his wife back. These are a few examples from this session:
I apologise for the lack of nuance in judgement. Maybe this was meant to be subversive, but i’ve honestly found all of this pretty tiresome.
There was a nine page essay presented as one of these acts that i’ve enjoyed. In that piece, she did a bit of a ‘Samuel Beckett’, by starting with something along the lines (i am a bit paraphrasing): 'say you are a woman... no, start again. Say you a man writing about a woman. Much better.’ It was pretty clear that the content of this essay is indeed engaged with Cusk or her type of a female writer, a critique of her imagined from a male perspective by another woman. And it was thought-provoking and interestingly composed. But it has lasted for nine pages.
Overall the book was closer to Study for Obedience rather than to any novels by Cusk. But Bernstein’s novel is much more accomplished. This also might appeal to the readers who enjoyed the last novel by Katie Kitamura. Like that book, this one as well might be considered to be ‘wide open to interpretation’ in terms of the actual plot: who is alive and who is not, the sequence of events, that sort of thing. But Audition is more focused on a specific situation, more tight in its themes a little less performative, i dare say.
I am sure this book will find a wider readership. I would be interested to read more nuanced reviews and interpretations. I am happy to admit if i’ve lost something. But unless this novel was meant to be a very clever, very subtle satire, i’ve felt somewhat let down with this one. It is a shame as i can see myself liking her writing. I blame my expectations.
Recently, we’ve discussed here the potential of an individual curation in the future of the books’ world. This novel seemed to be an ideal example of something handpicked for me: published by one of my favourite presses, invitingly blurbed by Rachel Cusk as a book ‘with an insanity inside its sanity – or the other way around’ (i am huge fan of her); and also recommended by Merve Emre, a star critic. A novel is structured in six acts, like a play; each with its own narrator. I like the polyphony in fiction. So i could not wait to get hold of the book. I’ve expected something ‘extraordinary’ (a word from another blurb). And for the first ‘act’ it was quite promising.
The first ‘voice’ was of a middle aged literature professor teaching through transcendentalism. He has recently fallen out of favour with the faculty, estranged from his wife and respectively was in the process of reevaluating his life. Initially, i’ve had an impression the author would explore the complexity of this character without creating a caricature. At one stage, it looked like she would subvert Stoner for our time making him a bit more self-aware. And i loved this idea. The sentences were good: immensely quotable, ‘cuskian’ in spirit (though lacking her trade mark ambiguity).
But unfortunately it went downhill from there. Unless it has meant like a very subtle satire, the narrative has become very earnest and was reduced to the tropes of toxic masculinity, toxic faculty politiking, toxic power dynamics in a relationship, toxic industrial agriculture etc, etc. Even the Holocaust was brought in on a tangent with a saviour of Jews (she was not named but i suspect it was Marion Pritchard). She was mentioned once as a relative of a character. I am not sure why she was required there. There were too much of these themes. The development of each of them were following a well-trodden path. The attempt to examine dichotomies such as takers vs doers; man vs woman; city vs nature etc have not brought up any new tension between these opposites either. Very soon it has become evident that it would be a multiple discourse driven text rather than a voice driven.
The uncanny element was as well pretty basic by any stretch of imagination. At some stage, a literal crystal ball has appeared! Among other things ‘a female medium’ (or may she was just an older woman - this might be a part of the mystery) was advising to the professor how to get his wife back. These are a few examples from this session:
How? You take your clothes off and you take her pants off, and you just do it. You have to enter her (the italics (is by the author. (p 75)).
The woman who ruined your life has taken the place of your mother and you must remove her.
I apologise for the lack of nuance in judgement. Maybe this was meant to be subversive, but i’ve honestly found all of this pretty tiresome.
There was a nine page essay presented as one of these acts that i’ve enjoyed. In that piece, she did a bit of a ‘Samuel Beckett’, by starting with something along the lines (i am a bit paraphrasing): 'say you are a woman... no, start again. Say you a man writing about a woman. Much better.’ It was pretty clear that the content of this essay is indeed engaged with Cusk or her type of a female writer, a critique of her imagined from a male perspective by another woman. And it was thought-provoking and interestingly composed. But it has lasted for nine pages.
Overall the book was closer to Study for Obedience rather than to any novels by Cusk. But Bernstein’s novel is much more accomplished. This also might appeal to the readers who enjoyed the last novel by Katie Kitamura. Like that book, this one as well might be considered to be ‘wide open to interpretation’ in terms of the actual plot: who is alive and who is not, the sequence of events, that sort of thing. But Audition is more focused on a specific situation, more tight in its themes a little less performative, i dare say.
I am sure this book will find a wider readership. I would be interested to read more nuanced reviews and interpretations. I am happy to admit if i’ve lost something. But unless this novel was meant to be a very clever, very subtle satire, i’ve felt somewhat let down with this one. It is a shame as i can see myself liking her writing. I blame my expectations.
February 4, 2026
“She fell asleep early, exhausted just to have had the sun alive on her face for a time. And then, she got up early to sit on the deck with coffee to watch the fog lift, feel the dew suck back up into the air revealing the green daylight beneath it. To pay attention, you had to spend hours. To see the flight pattern of a bee, you had to sit idly beside a flower. (…)
Helen came to know a different kind of language, a different kind of art. She came to see that there are people who live completely apart from the minds that supposedly trigger seismic shifts in human history. There’s contentment outside of all that, a life that sees no use for it. There are people who don’t feel excluded, who aren’t humiliated by their station in life, who don’t compare themselves to those who may be seen as better, bigger.”
Makenna Goodman is a rare bird.
Her first novel “The Shame” was a stunning portrait of a mother on the run, fueled by fury and obsession. A novel walking the (narrative) line, a speeding object on a straight highway.
Nothing is straight in “Helen of Nowhere”.
An aging disgraced professor (Man) visits a house for sale in the countryside, away from it all, yearning for a renewed lease on life. A mysterious Helen previously owned the house. Enough said.
Go in blind. Don’t think. The sublime writing will carry you through. Scene after scene, you will surf the waves of patriarchy, academia, cities and the natural world, individual agency and social constructs, men and women, the self and all its masks. Capitalism. The Land. Rescued dogs.
A provocative and idiosyncratic novel/play in six acts, six variations on perception, identity, ownership and reinvention, “Helen of Nowhere” feels like a hallucinatory trip through the chakras, from the root to the crown. Or is it the other way around?
A puzzle. An indictment. A reverie.
What will you acquire or give up in order to be?
A rare bird indeed.
Helen came to know a different kind of language, a different kind of art. She came to see that there are people who live completely apart from the minds that supposedly trigger seismic shifts in human history. There’s contentment outside of all that, a life that sees no use for it. There are people who don’t feel excluded, who aren’t humiliated by their station in life, who don’t compare themselves to those who may be seen as better, bigger.”
Makenna Goodman is a rare bird.
Her first novel “The Shame” was a stunning portrait of a mother on the run, fueled by fury and obsession. A novel walking the (narrative) line, a speeding object on a straight highway.
Nothing is straight in “Helen of Nowhere”.
An aging disgraced professor (Man) visits a house for sale in the countryside, away from it all, yearning for a renewed lease on life. A mysterious Helen previously owned the house. Enough said.
Go in blind. Don’t think. The sublime writing will carry you through. Scene after scene, you will surf the waves of patriarchy, academia, cities and the natural world, individual agency and social constructs, men and women, the self and all its masks. Capitalism. The Land. Rescued dogs.
A provocative and idiosyncratic novel/play in six acts, six variations on perception, identity, ownership and reinvention, “Helen of Nowhere” feels like a hallucinatory trip through the chakras, from the root to the crown. Or is it the other way around?
A puzzle. An indictment. A reverie.
What will you acquire or give up in order to be?
A rare bird indeed.
October 17, 2025
While reading it, I had no idea where this novel was going to take me, and it was so worth it for the spectacular ending!
I received this book as part of my Coffee House Press subscription for Fall 2025.
I received this book as part of my Coffee House Press subscription for Fall 2025.
August 30, 2025
I read Helen of Nowhere after a strange experience. I attended an author panel where one of the participants was an older author who was once quite relevant. I researched him after the event. He'd won a couple book awards and even had a movie made from one. Without getting into it too much, he was a good writer who'd lost touch with the ways in which authors achieve relevance today.
Sadly, with his latest work, he'd not only tried to keep his status and influence through well-worn means, but doubled down on his role as a sort of spokesperson in an area where truly gifted people could speak with their own voices. This resulted in most reputable publishers not being interested in his most recent book. He did finally find a press who'd take him, but this was likely due to some combination of connections and persistence. I felt sorry for him so I purchased his book, but I couldn't finish it.
As I read the first few pages of Helen of Nowhere, the parallels between the once relevant man at the book event I attended and the man in Goodman's book struck me. I should not be surprised. As the world changes, so are the ways in which we experience authentic stories and voices. But Goodman's story about once esteemed man losing his place made me laugh out loud. I also wondered aloud about my own cruelty.
After all, I'm a man who achieves daily relevance and privilege simply by being a man. The days are coming when this free pass will begin to lose it's value. I think there are many men who fear this transition down to their core. And they're attempting to find ways to recover. Many methods are tragically dark, desperate, and laughable.
For me, the protagonist's recovery at the end of Goodman's novel is among the more reasonable pathways forward. However, as the back cover blurb explains, it remains encumbered by consequence, "He will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated."
(Note: I got an early copy of this book by being a Coffee House Press subscriber.)
Sadly, with his latest work, he'd not only tried to keep his status and influence through well-worn means, but doubled down on his role as a sort of spokesperson in an area where truly gifted people could speak with their own voices. This resulted in most reputable publishers not being interested in his most recent book. He did finally find a press who'd take him, but this was likely due to some combination of connections and persistence. I felt sorry for him so I purchased his book, but I couldn't finish it.
As I read the first few pages of Helen of Nowhere, the parallels between the once relevant man at the book event I attended and the man in Goodman's book struck me. I should not be surprised. As the world changes, so are the ways in which we experience authentic stories and voices. But Goodman's story about once esteemed man losing his place made me laugh out loud. I also wondered aloud about my own cruelty.
After all, I'm a man who achieves daily relevance and privilege simply by being a man. The days are coming when this free pass will begin to lose it's value. I think there are many men who fear this transition down to their core. And they're attempting to find ways to recover. Many methods are tragically dark, desperate, and laughable.
For me, the protagonist's recovery at the end of Goodman's novel is among the more reasonable pathways forward. However, as the back cover blurb explains, it remains encumbered by consequence, "He will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated."
(Note: I got an early copy of this book by being a Coffee House Press subscriber.)
February 5, 2026
It wasn’t clear to me what Goodman was trying to do here until the end. I found it extremely amusing, mostly because of the elaborate set up.
The joke’s set up is basically a modern feminist retelling of Dr. Faustus. In Goodman’s retelling, a ridiculously mysognistic professor tours a country home where he is seduced by a baccanal Helen figure into necromancy. The benefit of the bargain is deeply ironic.
The joke’s set up is basically a modern feminist retelling of Dr. Faustus. In Goodman’s retelling, a ridiculously mysognistic professor tours a country home where he is seduced by a baccanal Helen figure into necromancy. The benefit of the bargain is deeply ironic.
January 30, 2026
Holy smokes. I loved this book. Very cerebral and subtly, darkly funny then just… laugh out loud absurd which is a great combination for me. I loved The Shame for its commentary on the trend of urban to rural migration and as a fellow traveller I’m glad Makenna Goodman is continuing to take on this dynamic in smart and inventive ways. A lot of grappling with identity politics here, and for the most part I thought it was fairly nuanced, and even somewhat sympathetic (though others will probably disagree with this) though the ending pretty much turned that on it’s head. Somewhat heavy handed 🤣 but also literally made me gasp in delight so I’ll forgive that. Anyways can’t wait to re read this. More weird novels in 2026
February 18, 2026
CHARACTERS
MAN, late fifties, wool buttoned vest, arborist-style pants with a worn-in notebook crease in the back pocket, lives in the city.
REALTOR, forties, attractive hippie type, selling a house in the country.
HELEN, seventies, hardscrabble but aging well, owner of the house.
WIFE, forties, in a sunny apartment in the city.
Helen of Nowhere is the second novel by Makenna Goodman, and as the cast of characters above, and the chapters being labelled 'acts' shows, it is written in a format that nods towards plays, albeit without speech headings and stage directions.
It opens:
Act I, Man
I think it’s okay to tell a woman she’s beautiful once a year. Any more than that and her life will be about being beautiful, entirely. Anything less and she’ll feel a lack of love and attention. My wife always said I never told her she was beautiful enough. But like I said, I don’t think it’s good for women.
Someone told me that life is a collection of details you choose to pay attention to. Most of my life has been taken up by my work, but since my work has always been about observing nature, I consider my life’s work all about paying attention. This is what I told my students: The world is to be observed, and observing for its own sake is a life worth living.
The house, for example, was warm, despite its being unfurnished, with simple wooden features and beams containing echo strokes of a handheld chisel. There was a built-in couch with a dark blue fabric cushion, its edges sewn by hand, somehow both right-angled and arched in a crescent shape. Beside it, an ornate cast iron wood stove. The windows were large, single-paned. There was a piece of upright wood in the corner, a gnarled tree or trunk that had been elevated into something sculptural. Besides that, nothing but gleaming, empty space.
I was in the middle of nowhere. I was looking for a simpler life. I had driven all day, alone, to get there.
Man is a professor, or arguably former professor, in his 50s, a once celebrated neo-transcendentalist, now cancelled because, at least in his account, who he is - they called me a ‘colonial artifact’ - rather than anything he did, although the sexism that underpins his life-values is evident from his opening remarks above. Goodman has said the novel was inspired by the movements that swept campuses in 2020 in the aftermath of the George Floyd killing, although the angle her appears to be more sexism than racism.
I had been betrayed by a system that once valued mastery and now seemed only to value its redistribution. It wasn't fair, and it was dirty.
What about a moral code. A sense of decency! No true ally would have dared to stoop so low as to question the character of a man so kind, so plant-loving, so mild-mannered as I, suffering so much from being forced into the confines of these women's newly minted stereotypes of maleness, stereotypes that like all stereotypes sought to simplify, to reduce, reduce, reduce, like the theories of my colleagues, theories that were created to destroy, to dismantle and ridicule, as sheer exercises of power.
The novel is set over one day where he has come to the countryside - the middle of nowhere - to view a property, shown around it by Realtor. The house itself is owned by the eponymous Helen - the character's name a nod both to Troy and to Helen Nearing - who is now in care.
The first Act has Man exploring, with resentment, his downfall, which also led to a break-up with his wife, herself in a more junior role at the same university. The second act introduces Realtor, who in turn tells Man about Helen, but also turns out to be well informed, and probing, on his own situation.
The novel then takes an increasingly surreal turn, with Realtor offering to channel Helen as a consciousness, while another chapter - but possibly written from someone else's imagination, puts us into the thoughts of Wife.
The novel was for me at its best in the earlier Acts, particularly when the characters develop theories of categorisation - the role of Doers and Takers in an institution, or Anchors and Kites in a relationship - Man is accused by his colleagues of being a Taker, and by Wife of being a Kite that forces her to be an Anchor).
The ending of the novel is, unfortunately, a bit too obvious to be effective - it's heavily signposted throughout (although intriguingly Goodman has said this was sub-conscious, as she had not necessarily planned it) and I guessed it on page 5.
This is a novel whose form and ambition I admired - if a UK author, it would have been a Goldsmiths contender - but something of a disappointment in the execution and the latter half.
MAN, late fifties, wool buttoned vest, arborist-style pants with a worn-in notebook crease in the back pocket, lives in the city.
REALTOR, forties, attractive hippie type, selling a house in the country.
HELEN, seventies, hardscrabble but aging well, owner of the house.
WIFE, forties, in a sunny apartment in the city.
Helen of Nowhere is the second novel by Makenna Goodman, and as the cast of characters above, and the chapters being labelled 'acts' shows, it is written in a format that nods towards plays, albeit without speech headings and stage directions.
It opens:
Act I, Man
I think it’s okay to tell a woman she’s beautiful once a year. Any more than that and her life will be about being beautiful, entirely. Anything less and she’ll feel a lack of love and attention. My wife always said I never told her she was beautiful enough. But like I said, I don’t think it’s good for women.
Someone told me that life is a collection of details you choose to pay attention to. Most of my life has been taken up by my work, but since my work has always been about observing nature, I consider my life’s work all about paying attention. This is what I told my students: The world is to be observed, and observing for its own sake is a life worth living.
The house, for example, was warm, despite its being unfurnished, with simple wooden features and beams containing echo strokes of a handheld chisel. There was a built-in couch with a dark blue fabric cushion, its edges sewn by hand, somehow both right-angled and arched in a crescent shape. Beside it, an ornate cast iron wood stove. The windows were large, single-paned. There was a piece of upright wood in the corner, a gnarled tree or trunk that had been elevated into something sculptural. Besides that, nothing but gleaming, empty space.
I was in the middle of nowhere. I was looking for a simpler life. I had driven all day, alone, to get there.
Man is a professor, or arguably former professor, in his 50s, a once celebrated neo-transcendentalist, now cancelled because, at least in his account, who he is - they called me a ‘colonial artifact’ - rather than anything he did, although the sexism that underpins his life-values is evident from his opening remarks above. Goodman has said the novel was inspired by the movements that swept campuses in 2020 in the aftermath of the George Floyd killing, although the angle her appears to be more sexism than racism.
I had been betrayed by a system that once valued mastery and now seemed only to value its redistribution. It wasn't fair, and it was dirty.
What about a moral code. A sense of decency! No true ally would have dared to stoop so low as to question the character of a man so kind, so plant-loving, so mild-mannered as I, suffering so much from being forced into the confines of these women's newly minted stereotypes of maleness, stereotypes that like all stereotypes sought to simplify, to reduce, reduce, reduce, like the theories of my colleagues, theories that were created to destroy, to dismantle and ridicule, as sheer exercises of power.
The novel is set over one day where he has come to the countryside - the middle of nowhere - to view a property, shown around it by Realtor. The house itself is owned by the eponymous Helen - the character's name a nod both to Troy and to Helen Nearing - who is now in care.
The first Act has Man exploring, with resentment, his downfall, which also led to a break-up with his wife, herself in a more junior role at the same university. The second act introduces Realtor, who in turn tells Man about Helen, but also turns out to be well informed, and probing, on his own situation.
The novel then takes an increasingly surreal turn, with Realtor offering to channel Helen as a consciousness, while another chapter - but possibly written from someone else's imagination, puts us into the thoughts of Wife.
The novel was for me at its best in the earlier Acts, particularly when the characters develop theories of categorisation - the role of Doers and Takers in an institution, or Anchors and Kites in a relationship - Man is accused by his colleagues of being a Taker, and by Wife of being a Kite that forces her to be an Anchor).
The ending of the novel is, unfortunately, a bit too obvious to be effective - it's heavily signposted throughout (although intriguingly Goodman has said this was sub-conscious, as she had not necessarily planned it) and I guessed it on page 5.
This is a novel whose form and ambition I admired - if a UK author, it would have been a Goldsmiths contender - but something of a disappointment in the execution and the latter half.
February 11, 2026
Goodman’s Helen of Nowhere is performed in six acts. Readers witness the old professor receive intense criticism for his cis-het methodology in approaching his research on the transcendentalists. A younger colleague challenges his work, and with the changing of the guards and with his wife definitively deciding to end their marriage, he retreats to the countryside. The realtor showing him the house also used to live with Helen, the owner. During the viewing, the realtor notes the professor’s similarities with Helen, and she describes Helen with divine attributes of pure consciousness, beyond form, healer, and a kind of all-encompassing love. Then, she conducts a seance in which she’s the medium; the professor asks Helen about love. Helen appears as a ghost or apparition, counseling the professor to undergo a purification ritual to call for his true self, his ego. In Act 5, Goodman seems to double back to retell the story, though this time, with commentary.
There is a Kitamura’s Audition flavor to Goodman’s work insofar as we consider the masks we put on to play our self-assigned roles in various contexts. The professor can’t synthesize his wife’s unhappiness; or, more precisely, he surmises that “she was always menstruating or about to menstruate or recovering from menstruating, and I reminded her of it when her time was coming, for I had tuned in so devotedly to her cycle I could predict an outburst.” He fixates on her menstrual cycle as the source of her moods, and he can’t conceive that he could be a source of her frustration. Unfortunately, that is the extent of my understanding of Helen of Nowhere. My questions abound: Who is Helen? Where is Helen? Who is the realtor? Is this a dog narrating Act 6? A baby? I look forward to the help of others’ reviews I’ll read.
My favorite part of Goodman’s book is the vocab words.
Thanks to Coffee House Press and Edelweiss for a DRC.
There is a Kitamura’s Audition flavor to Goodman’s work insofar as we consider the masks we put on to play our self-assigned roles in various contexts. The professor can’t synthesize his wife’s unhappiness; or, more precisely, he surmises that “she was always menstruating or about to menstruate or recovering from menstruating, and I reminded her of it when her time was coming, for I had tuned in so devotedly to her cycle I could predict an outburst.” He fixates on her menstrual cycle as the source of her moods, and he can’t conceive that he could be a source of her frustration. Unfortunately, that is the extent of my understanding of Helen of Nowhere. My questions abound: Who is Helen? Where is Helen? Who is the realtor? Is this a dog narrating Act 6? A baby? I look forward to the help of others’ reviews I’ll read.
My favorite part of Goodman’s book is the vocab words.
Thanks to Coffee House Press and Edelweiss for a DRC.
February 11, 2026
Not what I had expected. Too many philosophical wanderings and emphasis on current hot topics, gender, cancel culture, for example. It’s the sort of speculative fiction where the effort required to read it is far greater than any reward that comes from it.
January 28, 2026
1.5
Stylistically leaden and surprisingly lacking in provocation. All the expected blurbs (except my shock at Cusk's (unsurprising given the material) endorsement) are present for a narrative of gender war and empathy and cancel culture and regression and artificial divinity in nature. Boring.
Stylistically leaden and surprisingly lacking in provocation. All the expected blurbs (except my shock at Cusk's (unsurprising given the material) endorsement) are present for a narrative of gender war and empathy and cancel culture and regression and artificial divinity in nature. Boring.
September 9, 2025
Unfortunately this book wasn't for me. There were definitely some great passages that resonated with me. There are a lot of deeply philosophical type musings being conveyed here. However, I find the writing as a whole just a little too abstract for me. I typically enjoy weird and out there type of books, but this one was a little too much even for me. Hopefully it works for you!
Thanks to Coffee House Press for the ARC in exchange for my honest review!
Thanks to Coffee House Press for the ARC in exchange for my honest review!
February 15, 2026
And yet with time, the lower I felt, the brighter she became, though to me that brightness felt punishing, like exiting a theater at midday. (7)
*
It was impossible to simply "be" in nature, she said, without complicating the notion of "nature" itself, just as a border has nothing to do with the land's actual requirements for entry or exit. In fact, she said, it wasn't nature at all that man was searching for in his desire to exist closely within it, but a projection of the desire to be without politics, which man misinterpreted as being without consciousness. Man envied this seeming consciousnessless of nature, for he knew, deep down, that ego alone would never solve the problems of the heart. (9)
*
She annihilated me by knowing things I didn't know. My desire was something about her I could control, and ultimately, marrying her was the greatest revenge against her brilliance. When she was my student, deep down, I wanted to lick up and down the route between her breasts. But she was my student, and so I kept this desire sublimated, entirely. I tell you: entirely. (20)
*
Then came the whispers, singing songs about unworthiness. They told me that the world would be better off without me. The thoughts were like knives in the head.
I would hear music filling silent rooms. The music was a reminder that I was still alive, yet I could not have heard it without the existence of a silence that contained nothing.
(24)
*
Beware the storytellers, I told my students on my last day. They'll build you a world you'll prefer to your
own. (25)
*
Often, she said, you'll see the least altruistic people using sincerity to throw their weight around. Honesty and sincerity are great ways to avoid suspicion, she would always say. (29)
*
I wasn't a smoker, but I was smoking. It was all part of the darkness I was in. The smoking, the terrible way it made me feel.
I came back in. I told her it was nice to be in the country, where nature could really express herself. (34)
*
As an act of resistance against the world of corruptible ideas and false gods, Helen rejected all notion of their existence, refusing to engage in even a memory of the parts of her life that at one point held her attention. She didn't read, didn't go to the movies, didn't listen to music other than the classical station on public radio and, even then, should the host begin a commentary on the reputation of the composer and the mark they made on music's history, she would grab for the dial and switch it off. (60)
*
But I was scared. I had learned to be frightened by my own desire.
It's a rare gift.
Go on, I urged her, go on. (62)
*
Would you have consulted the flowers? Hypothetically. (130)
*
Perhaps it was the feeling of one more chance. The world giving me a choice to love. It had been love I was looking for, the only real thing. The thing I had been searching for was, in fact, just within reach, and had been there all along. It was just that I had to move through time in a different way to return to it. (136)
*
It was impossible to simply "be" in nature, she said, without complicating the notion of "nature" itself, just as a border has nothing to do with the land's actual requirements for entry or exit. In fact, she said, it wasn't nature at all that man was searching for in his desire to exist closely within it, but a projection of the desire to be without politics, which man misinterpreted as being without consciousness. Man envied this seeming consciousnessless of nature, for he knew, deep down, that ego alone would never solve the problems of the heart. (9)
*
She annihilated me by knowing things I didn't know. My desire was something about her I could control, and ultimately, marrying her was the greatest revenge against her brilliance. When she was my student, deep down, I wanted to lick up and down the route between her breasts. But she was my student, and so I kept this desire sublimated, entirely. I tell you: entirely. (20)
*
Then came the whispers, singing songs about unworthiness. They told me that the world would be better off without me. The thoughts were like knives in the head.
I would hear music filling silent rooms. The music was a reminder that I was still alive, yet I could not have heard it without the existence of a silence that contained nothing.
(24)
*
Beware the storytellers, I told my students on my last day. They'll build you a world you'll prefer to your
own. (25)
*
Often, she said, you'll see the least altruistic people using sincerity to throw their weight around. Honesty and sincerity are great ways to avoid suspicion, she would always say. (29)
*
I wasn't a smoker, but I was smoking. It was all part of the darkness I was in. The smoking, the terrible way it made me feel.
I came back in. I told her it was nice to be in the country, where nature could really express herself. (34)
*
As an act of resistance against the world of corruptible ideas and false gods, Helen rejected all notion of their existence, refusing to engage in even a memory of the parts of her life that at one point held her attention. She didn't read, didn't go to the movies, didn't listen to music other than the classical station on public radio and, even then, should the host begin a commentary on the reputation of the composer and the mark they made on music's history, she would grab for the dial and switch it off. (60)
*
But I was scared. I had learned to be frightened by my own desire.
It's a rare gift.
Go on, I urged her, go on. (62)
*
Would you have consulted the flowers? Hypothetically. (130)
*
Perhaps it was the feeling of one more chance. The world giving me a choice to love. It had been love I was looking for, the only real thing. The thing I had been searching for was, in fact, just within reach, and had been there all along. It was just that I had to move through time in a different way to return to it. (136)
November 16, 2025
“i had wondered if there was even a point to existing… but was it just as possible ceasing to exist was the only way to exist truthfully?”
a very thought provoking novel that circles around different points of views of characters that are intertwined with the other in the same way. a lot of the lines will stick with me for life, and to me, thats a book worth reading.
very artistically lyrical and if looking at it through its flawed and existential characters and beautiful prose, this is a story that will stay forever
a very thought provoking novel that circles around different points of views of characters that are intertwined with the other in the same way. a lot of the lines will stick with me for life, and to me, thats a book worth reading.
very artistically lyrical and if looking at it through its flawed and existential characters and beautiful prose, this is a story that will stay forever
February 7, 2026
No plot just vibes. And the vibes are confusing. I was excited for a book about a disgraced male professor who’s trying to convince us he’s a good guy. But it went left quickly, got weird and pushed me beyond my limit with speculative fiction.
Read
December 30, 2025“She realized she valued her life on the day-to-day. A good day meant all was okay, while a bad day was cause for concern. She said she held onto the good days knowing they had been outweighed by the bad days for years. She realized that I thought about the long view, about life over a long period of time, not by moments, but by the concept of it in general; a completed vision of what I hoped it would be in the end.”
Read
January 22, 2026i’m goddamned obsessed with this book. it shifts so perfectly into the weird just by asking questions. what is a good life? honestly sometimes my answer is the same as the books but maybe the joke is on me.
I think the title is really funny. women cause everything just by existing in the same space as men. the only way helen could have not caused a war was to disappear
I think the title is really funny. women cause everything just by existing in the same space as men. the only way helen could have not caused a war was to disappear
November 13, 2025
Strange, enthralling, and thought provoking.
January 19, 2026
Have to confess that I hated this book. Like found its aesthetic choices morally repellent. Loved the first paragraph and the last section. The rest felt overly singsongy. But that’s just me!! I’m still pro experimental writing and glad she made an experiment!
February 15, 2026
Furiture holds energy, you know. Information. Memories. Everytime you read something, like, “they sat at the dining room table” you think about a dining room table from your childhood :)
February 15, 2026
Just slightly better than awful.
February 22, 2026
might be a case of style over substance, but it worked for me!
Read
February 14, 2026i will recommend this to people
October 24, 2025
It’s an easy, smooth read. I loved the details and the descriptions of nature, the house, and the mysterious Helen. But around the middle to the end, it suddenly shifts into something completely unexpected. It’s hard to explain, it gets a bit confusing, and the ending is so surprising that you almost feel like you need to read it again… and honestly, I’m just not in the mood for that.
Read
January 25, 2026This thin novel contains a lot. Is it about finding happiness, or satisfying vanity? The attractions of a rural cabin—and its trying social interactions—are well put. I loved the idea that time does not pass, but rather burrows, coils like a nautilus, tightening.
The book contemplates fame, gender roles, time, intimacies between professionals, between lovers.
The book contemplates fame, gender roles, time, intimacies between professionals, between lovers.
October 8, 2025
God I LOVE a weird little book. And what a thematically perfect read to pick up right after finishing Katabasis 💀
July 5, 2025
helen of nowhere follows a man who, dealing with the destruction of both his career and his marriage in interrelated ways, searches for a different way to live. this occurs throughout his process of trying to buy a new house in the country, a house belonging to a ghost-like being named helen. this book was cerebral, for lack of a better way to put it, and i thought that the ending was very clever, but it does not overall feel very cohesive. the latter half was definitely a lot stronger than the former, which got to be a bit tedious to read through, and for all its discussions and exploring i am not sure where, exactly, the book left us. however, all in all, the book was well-written and interesting, and raised some questions i was glad to think about.
thank you so much to coffee house press and edelweiss for the arc!
thank you so much to coffee house press and edelweiss for the arc!
November 1, 2025
kafkaesque cockroach ending.
November 11, 2025
“You had to look at chairs and at tables, and then you would remember, but a mirror made you forget. Inside every person is a landscape, Helen would say. Why look at your reflection in search of the truth? We are more than just our puny selves, and mirrors are all about puniness. All the mistakes we may have made, these are mistakes that come from looking too hard at our reflections. If we had no reflections, we'd see what was in front of us, we'd see many things at once, none of them ourselves.”
“If you look at your spirit as a horse running through a field, you can see that there's just no restrictions, there's just absolute expression without any kind of hesitation. There's just complete expression. The soul, on the other hand—like when a man is soulful, when he's playing jazz and he becomes the music—is how the essence of who we are can come through.”
Fine distinction
Spirit - expression
Soul - essence
“If you look at your spirit as a horse running through a field, you can see that there's just no restrictions, there's just absolute expression without any kind of hesitation. There's just complete expression. The soul, on the other hand—like when a man is soulful, when he's playing jazz and he becomes the music—is how the essence of who we are can come through.”
Fine distinction
Spirit - expression
Soul - essence
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