Son of Nobody

by Yann Martel

The past is never done always the song continues

Harlow Donne has devoted his life to the Classical world. When a chance comes up to study an obscure collection of papyrus fragments at Oxford University, he seizes it. Though it means leaving his daughter and fracturing marriage back home in Canada, this is the kind of career break he desperately needs.

In the depths of the Bodleian Library, Harlow discovers a lost account of the Trojan War, a glimpse into the founding of Western civilization itself. He names the epic poem The Psoad, after its protagonist, a Greek commoner identified as Psoas of Midea but known to all as ‘son of nobody’.

As sole translator and interpreter of the Psoad, Harlow dedicates the poem and its modern footnotes to his daughter, Helen. Under his gaze, the text unlocks echoes of Ancient Greece into the present day, and a personal message to his beloved child appears. Despite the three-thousand-year gap between the two, a thread hasn’t the universal song of homesickness and regret, of ambition and grief.

In this masterpiece of myth and history, Son of Nobody explores how stories become facts, the price we pay to share them and how we live – then, now and always.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Literary Fiction, Retellings, Historical, Mythology, Canada

Audible Audio

First published March 31, 2026

About the author

Yann Martel is a Canadian author who wrote the Man Booker Prize–winning novel Life of Pi, an international bestseller published in more than 50 territories. It has sold more than 12 million copies worldwide and spent more than a year on the bestseller lists of the New York Times and The Globe and Mail, among many other best-selling lists. Life of Pi was adapted for a movie directed by Ang Lee, garnering four Oscars including Best Director and winning the Golden Globe Award for Best Original Score.
Martel is also the author of the novels The High Mountains of Portugal, Beatrice and Virgil, and Self, the collection of stories The Facts Behind the Helsinki Roccamatios, and a collection of letters to Canada's Prime Minister 101 Letters to a Prime Minister. He has won a number of literary prizes, including the 2001 Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction and the 2002 Asian/Pacific American Award for Literature.
Martel lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, with writer Alice Kuipers and their four children. His first language is French, but he writes in English.

Reviews

[Meike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wooof, this is one ambitious novel: Martel creates an epic poem about the Trojan War that offers if not alternative history, then alternative myth to The Iliad, and frames it with a story about the trials and tribulations of a contemporary classicist. The clue: While Homer sings of the glory of gods, heroes, and the nobility, Martel sings about the destiny of commoners, the sons of nobody, while highlighting the eternal truths about the human condition contained in an almost 3,000 year-old story: Our blind wrath leads to madness and total destruction.

The novel's protagonist and narrator Harlow Donne, a PhD candidate who researches Homer at a small Canadian university, receives a scholarship for Oxford University and temporarily leaves behind his wife and nine-year-old daughter Helen (like Helen of Troy, get it?). There, he coincidentally comes across four ostraka that point him to the story of Psoas of Midea a.k.a. the title-giving son of nobody, a common Greek soldier. The ostraka were found at Hymettus, the very place where Harlow decided to become a classicist. Intrigued (and against the wishes of his supervisor), Harlow goes on to re-construct "The Psoad", the tale of Psoad's a life as sung by Thersites, who is the only commoner mentioned in The Iliad - and there are some important differences to the official version of the war as told by the powerful. As Harlow's grandfather, traumatized by World War II, told him when he was a child: "We are hiding places for monsters".

After the story is set-up in an introductory chapter, it is told in thirty fragments from "The Psoad", with Harlow's commentary pondering the text in comparison to the "Iliad" and historical knowledge, and intertwining it with his personal story, especially the domestic disputes with his wife. His research and explanations are fully addressed to his daughter Helen, she is the driving force behind the research of this small academic laboring in a colossal, historic library - or is it obsession itself? Is it distraction veiled as purpose? Martel does a great job painting a complex, haunted narrator, who knows about the fragility of human truths, and is in many ways connected to his research subject, Psoas, who joined a war to gain loot for his wife and children, sailing off to different shores.

I have to admit that at the beginning, I was struggling with the extensive explanations about history and myth, but once I got into the flow of the novel, it gained momentum. There's also more than one instance when the combination of the timelines feels overly forced and you see the twist in the contemporary timeline coming from a mile away, but this text is so insanely ambitious (feat. a truly absorbing epic poem!) that this doesn't matter all that much. Martel said in interviews that he was inspired by Waiting for Godot (the siege of Troy lasted ten years), but I don't feel this is showing much. Rather, I see why he also references All Quiet on the Western Front, in which we see young men's spirits broken by the vastness of human cruelty. But more than anything, I felt a kinship between the protagonist of At Night All Blood is Black and Psoas.

This is a very worthwhile read and Booker bait galore, and I'm excited to discuss this in comparison to Christopher Nolan's "The Odyssey" (Trailer), because I have a hunch that the book might make the movie epos appear like an outdated spectacle.

[Courtney · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a lover of Greek mythology, I was so excited to receive the ARC of Son of Nobody! This was truly an original novel, both in the structure and the alternative account of The Trojan War.

Rather than the increasingly common retellings, Martel imagines The Trojan War through the experience of a long forgotten soldier; he was no Agamemnon or Achilles, just a man fighting a decade long war away from home. Harlow, the academic that discovers his version of events, is also a long way from home at Oxford. Both men miss their wives and children, but remain dedicated to their cause, to their ultimate detriment.

Imaginative, emotional, and reflective - Son of Nobody is a book I will definitely be purchasing and recommending once it reaches shelves.

[Meg · Rating 5 out of 5]

deeply sad meditation on grief and violence, beautiful stuff

[Liz Hein · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not only do you need to like mythology to like this book, you need to like a fictional character’s analysis of mythology. Turns out, I do like both of those things.

[CadmanReads]

Yann Martel’s Son of Nobody is a difficult novel to pin down. I came away from it feeling that I liked it, even admired it, but I’m not entirely convinced it’s a book for everyone.

At its core, the novel is an inventive reimagining of epic storytelling. It unfolds through a dual narrative structure: on the upper half of each page are fragments of “The Psoad,” a supposedly lost ancient epic reminiscent of The Iliad, while the lower half presents footnotes, commentary, and scenes from the life of Harlow Donne, a modern man entangled in the text’s rediscovery. This unusual format ensures that neither narrative dominates. Instead, they exist in constant dialogue, each reshaping how we interpret the other.

The “Psoad” itself offers a compelling twist on classical myth. Rather than focusing on kings, gods, and heroes, it shifts attention to the perspective of an ordinary person caught in the machinery of war. In doing so, it quietly questions the grandeur of epics like The Iliad, asking why countless lives are sacrificed for the desires of the powerful. This theme is mirrored in the modern narrative, where questions about authority, class, and obedience echo into contemporary life. Why do we follow the will of elites? Why did the Greeks fight a ten-year war for one woman? Martel draws these parallels with a clear sense of purpose.

One of the novel’s strengths lies in its intellectual curiosity. The research elements are engaging, particularly the way the text plays with gaps in historical and literary knowledge. There are also intriguing parallels to The Bible, especially in the way stories evolve, fragment, and are reinterpreted over time. I found these aspects fascinating. They add depth and invite the reader to question how much we truly know about the figures and narratives we think we understand.

That said, the dual structure didn’t entirely work for me. While some transitions between the ancient and modern narratives are seamless and clever, others feel less satisfying. I also found myself wanting more from the modern-day storyline. Harlow Donne’s perspective, while interesting, didn’t always feel as fully developed as it could have been.

I also experienced the audiobook, narrated by Robin Wilcock and Aaron Willis, and the use of two narrators is significant. It reflects the book’s dual structure and feels like a very natural way to present the story. The distinct voices can make the dual point of view easier to follow than in print, and the oral delivery of the Psoad echoes how works like The Iliad were originally performed. I particularly liked the presentation of the Psoad in audio, as it felt closer to how an epic like this would have originally been experienced, giving those sections a sense of rhythm and immediacy. While you do lose the visual split-page experiment, which is central to the book’s identity, you gain clarity in the transitions and a stronger sense of separation between the narratives. Ideally, experiencing both formats would offer the fullest appreciation of what the novel is trying to achieve.

I suspect my experience with the novel was shaped by my recent reading. Having spent time with The Odyssey, not just reading it but exploring it through different interpretations and sources, I felt better equipped to engage with Martel’s experimental approach. Without that background, I might have found the format more challenging. I also think my opinion may change positively after I do my planned deep dive into The Iliad.

Ultimately, Son of Nobody feels like a bridge between classical literature and modern storytelling. It is ambitious, unconventional, and thought-provoking, even if it doesn’t entirely land in every respect. For readers interested in reimagined epics or literary experimentation, especially those familiar with works like The Iliad, this could be a rewarding and stimulating read. Just be prepared for something a little out of the ordinary.

[Ross Mackenzie · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars
lucky enough to get this early
smartly formatted
creation of his own ancient greek epic like what
you can’t help but root for the protagonist
sad and real

[asv:n · Rating 5 out of 5]

this book is an epic on its own!

Harlow, a doctoral historian who's specializing in Homer and his epics gets a fully funded research program at Oxford finds out that there existed an epic, parallel to the Iliad, where the protagonist was a man named Psoas, a commoner, son of nobody. A nameless bard tails psoas as he rags over the trojan war. He narrates the story in its dynamics- the blood and sweat lingering in the papyrus.

as Harlow advances through the epic, he finds out uncanny resemblances in his own life. He, a husband and a father, leaving his family and travelling miles away. Psoas, a husband and father, walking into death with no regards. a man with no title, Harlow becomes Psoas.

a warrior and a scholar- two sides of a coin.

with each scroll of papyrus, each stroke of letter, Halow's conscience rushes back to memories, his family. his wife, his daughter. the marriage that's falling apart. the fatherhood that's too passive. When Psoas goes mad with vigor in the battlefield, Harlow goes mad with the numbness of his helplessness in the gothic oxford office. he yearns for his wife, his daughter. a man who's left with choices but too weak to make any.

son of nobody is a refreshing look onto the greek epics, where the heros and gods played roles, Matel made a commoner a character of strength and courage. people mocked Psoas for every inch he stepped onto the battlefield. for every word he uttered, they mocked and degraded him. Psoas contemplated the helplessness residing inside of him, battling strangers, killing the ones that had done no harm. pooling the blood of innocents, kids.
even the kids.

the invisible bard and his tale of Psoas of Midea, Son of Nobody, embarks the inner realms of the conscience of a common man in the battle field, the one's who were played puppets by the power. an epic, it stands as a testimony of the human nature.

too good to be fiction.
and the stark similarities of the epic to the life of Harlow, who sat in that dark room, his hands strolling through the brittle papyrus, as he watched his life falling apart like a shattered sand clock.

i want to talk more and more, but i'll end up spoiling it, and i dont want it.
if you like greek epics, if u r curious about human morality, you must read this!

[Grace -thewritebooks]

Thank you to NetGalley and Canongate Books for an eARC in exchange for an honest review

A fascinating tragic dual timeline story of all consuming passion and loss. I was curious and a little confused for the first half, enjoying the little snippets into Harlow's life but not really seeing where it was going. And then at the half way mark I suddenly understood the point and felt my heart breaking into tiny pieces for the rest of the novel. I've read the Odyssey (many years ago now) and having a general knowledge I would almost say is essential for enjoying this because it's brimming with intertextuality and a richness of history mirrored into Harlow's present day.
A gem of a book although I will say that putting all the effort into reading 'translated' ancient greek poetry does not have as much pay off as reading the real thing, as cool as the concept is

[ada ☽ · Rating 3 out of 5]

The premise of this novel sounded like it would be right up my alley - Ancient Greek myth paired with an emotional personal story and philosophical ideas about life - which is why I gave it a chance despite finding Yann Martel‘s previous novel, Life of Pi, utterly mediocre. Unfortunately, what Martel set out to do here simply did not work (for me). 

I mostly enjoyed the Greek epic Martel invented for the novel, though at times it was too casual and modern for it to feel authentic (perhaps this was intended by the author to hint at its fictionality? Perhaps, though, my brain is too shaped by literary scholarship and I, like Harlow, am seeing links where there might as well be none). I absolutely adored the commentary providing background about the Greek literary and mythological tradition, as well as thinking about the implications of the alternative myth. What an interesting approach, to put into contrast two competing versions of a myth, to create another story so that, arguably, both versions lose credibility - to highlight both the subjectivity and the lack of verifiability of these ancient texts. To comment on war, on history, on personal lives and deaths. This is the kind of nerdy content that is quite interesting to me. 

I know that this would have probably made the novel readable for a significantly smaller audience, but I found myself wishing that the text stayed within this realm of Ancient Greek myth and philosophical commentary. The personal storyline fell flat for me; I absolutely hated the way it was inserted into the second narrative strand. See, I love a well-executed parallel, and I enjoy academic papers / footnotes as elements of narrative design. But it seemed to me that the connection was disjointed here, that it disrupted the reading flow. To insert the personal story as footnotes but (mostly) not even link them to the quotes properly made it feel like this form was convenient for the story the novel wanted to tell but wasn’t executed thoroughly. Frankly, sometimes the insertion of personal footnotes made so little (academic) sense that I genuinely considered not finishing the novel out of frustration. Only the fact that the middle section mostly abstained from long personal ramblings made up for it. Also, I understand that the way the footnotes were formatted makes sense for the text‘s readability but it would have made more structural sense to have them below the corresponding sections and not at the end of the chapters. I suppose the personal storyline made this structure impractical. 

In any case, I also really disliked Harlow as a person, and that didn’t make it easier to enjoy the personal level of the novel, especially since the other characters were not very fleshed out. Conclusion: The concept of merging the two narratives is compelling; I found the execution lacking. The three stars are for the Ancient Greek and the philosophy only.

What Martel sets out to do in this novel is quite ambitious. He creates an alternative history/myth, questions our perception of events as well as concepts of life, and entwines the historical vision with an individual loss. What I experienced was a beautifully creative if somewhat mediocrely written re-imagining of the Troyan War, intriguing meditations on life, grief, war, death, storytelling and history-making, and the lacklustre and weakly connected backstory of an aggravating narrator. At times a stimulating novel, at times frustrating, this had much more potential than it lived up to.

Thank you to Canongate and NetGalley for the digital ARC in exchange for an honest review!

[Gabriella · Rating 3 out of 5]

I studied Latin in high school, not Greek, so while I didn’t read the Iliad or the Odyssey in the original language, I did read (some? most?) of the Aeneid in Latin, so I’d like to think I have a higher-than-average interest in and appreciation of foundational Western epics. That’s all to say: if this book was going to work for someone, the someone could easily have been me. And while I enjoyed this enough to finish it (which is high praise- I’m DNFing ruthlessly this year), I didn’t find myself eagerly reaching for it, but rather mostly reading out of a sense of obligation.

That’s a lot about me, and not much about the book itself, I guess. So here’s a bit about Son of Nobody. It has an unusual structure: the top half of the page is the newly uncovered lost epic that’s being pieced together and translated by our main character, Harlow, and the bottom half is footnotes, half of which explain or comment on the text of the epic, and half of which tell the story of his family drama that is taking place concurrently with his scholarly work. I thought this quirky structure was pretty cool, it didn’t bother me, it was fun and fine. I did quite enjoy the “new epic,” which told the story of the Trojan War focused on the perspectives of the commoner soldiers, as opposed to Homer’s version, which takes the upper class POV. I liked the footnotes that explained key points in the epic, though I guess I couldn’t help but constantly think about the fact that Martel wrote both the epic and the “scholar’s” commentary on the epic, so it would be like “what the bard probably means here is…” and I’d be like, but you are the bard, and the scholar, you are both Yann Martel, author of Life of Pi. But still, it was interesting enough and clearly Martel has an impressively deep knowledge of Classics and ancient civilizations that I still quite appreciated it. The family drama story was a bit less compelling for me, at least until the very end, which was pretty good, but nothing incredible.

Overall, I think this book would be fantastic to teach alongside The Iliad in a classroom setting, but I’m not shoving it into the hands of my friends and family with any great haste.

[Cindy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A story of a Canadian academic researcher, a husband and father, who accepts a scholarship to work for an Oxford Don for a year, deciphering ancient Greek texts whilst pursuing his own research into the history of Troy. What he finds is potentially groundbreaking details about Psoas, the son of nobody, but nobody cares. It's a commentary on how research is funded, the stories revealed to us, the sacrifices made, and the value we place on our contributions. It's frustrating and heartbreaking. It's not, however, an easy-breezy book like his Life of Pi. It's more for fans of R.F. Kuang's Babel. The novel has several layers: his family life, his interactions at Oxford, the documents he is translating, and the story he builds from following Psoas' path. Two narrators helped keep things clear in the audiobook. Parallels and metaphors abound. I found it quite fascinating.
My thanks to the author, @RBMedia, #NetGalley, for early access to the audiobook of #SonofNobody for review purposes. Publication date: 31 March 2026.

[Kristen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Review of advance audiobook copy received from Netgalley

3.5 stars

The present day and the Greek mythology timeline did not connect for me. They would probably be excellent books separately but together? Oh baby cakes.

I found present day man child insufferable. Please tell me more how you need to go far away to study about an unknown nameless man instead of being with your wife and child. Am I suppose to compare your struggle?! Absolutely not.

Greek mythology was interesting. Had this been the only story line I would have been intrigued. The modern story line threw me out every single time.

[Creed Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

So ambitious, unexpected, and good. A true epic of a novel. Thanks W.W. Norton and Co for the arc!

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

A thought occurred to me. I found my notebook and looked at the four lines from the Ashmolean ostraka: I am here because of Psoas of Midea son of nobody I read them now in a different light. There was no insult here, after all. The speaker, that Mount Hymettos scribe and teacher, was “here” not because he was in a vengeful mood, but because he had heard, and been transported by, an epic about a son of nobody, and he wanted to praise him by a holy act of presence in a temple. This Ashmolean ostrakon, I now realized, was quite possibly the oldest fan letter in Western literature. I had made a great discovery: I had unearthed an unknown Greek epic, or, at least, the hint of it. Being alone in the Work Room, I turned off the lights and sat there in the dark, in a daze. I felt stirring within me deep elation—and aching loneliness. My wife’s last words at the airport still echoed in my head. A daughter missed, a wife aggrieved, but a treasure to be found—how strangely my fate seemed to echo King Agamemnon’s.

Yann Martell is of course most famous for writing what I think must be the most commercially successful Booker winner of all time – his second novel “Life of Pi” (2002 winner) which sold 12+ million copies and was made into a film which also won the Oscar for Best Director.

This is only his fifth novel – and first for 10 years (after what I thought was the rather disastrous mash-up of “The High Mountains of Portugal”) involving it seems extensive research both into Ancient Greek literature and on the ground in present day Turkey/Greece in particular the modern site of ancient Troy for what is in effect a retelling of the Trojan War while also a modern day family tale of a University based classics scholar.

The timing for a repeat Booker listing would seem serendipitous with a classic scholar as Chair of Judges

The novel’s set up is of a Canadian scholar – Harlow Donne (married and with a nine year old daughter Helen ……. the Troy links already apparent) who unexpectedly gets the chance for a one-year fellowship in Oxford (which as an aside he and Martel mistakenly seem to believe a prestigious university) working under a famous (if rather cliched) scholar there to work on the IRL Oxyrhynchus Papyri. He takes the fellowship, figuratively sacrificing his daughter and literally abandoning his wife (of course more Trojan analogies there).

Early on in his work though he finds some pottery fragments which refer to an ordinary man Psoas “son of nobody” (in contrast to the Homeric tradition of lines of descent and concentration on nobles) and from Midea (absent from the Iliad) – and from there becomes obsessed with following, translating and piecing together similar fragments into what he believes is an epic poem about Psoas (which he christens “The Psoad”) – told he decides eventually the only commoner to feature in the Iliad.

What we are reading is effectively Donne’s attempts to weave the 80 or so fragments he finds (or intuits) into a continuous whole - reproduced in his own translation into 30 segments and with each segment accompanied by extensive footnotes directed to his daughter Helen – footnotes which mix: commentary on the Psoad itself and on its differences/similarities with the more accepted classical account (the Psoad necessarily written from a more soldier in the war perspective but also offering alternative explanations for example for Helen’s “abduction”, the early days of the war and the Trojan horse); comments on the apparent anomalies in the Psoad text – in particular its seemingly anachronistic references to flora and especially fauna (a Trojan elephant for example); links to the Christian gospels – where Doone increasingly argues for the Psoad as (my words) a form of missing link between the Greek epics and the gospel literature (see below); increasingly Donne’s account (in some cases mea culpa) for his actions in going to Oxford and rather neglecting wife and daughter in pursuit of first career advancement and then perhaps even more inexcusably a career-threatening obsession; resonances between the text and his own life.

I am not sure if the PDF ARD I read entirely captured the way the print novel will be formatted – I have seen references to pages split in half – with the rediscovered classical text fragments in the top half and the footnotes/modern day narrative/correspondence in the bottom half. For me each section of classical text was followed serially by the relevant “footnotes”. This approach made for an easier read but also perhaps a more disassociated one as it felt like reading two alternating storylines rather than parallel text.

What we are actually meant to think we are reading is I think open to interpretation – mine would more be that the story – even as written in the fictional confines of the novel - is largely an invented one drawn together and embellished by Donne from the fragments of his ultimately failed quest, and told in the family tradition of the nighttime stories he told Helen (and which tellingly feature both in the novel’s very first and very last footnotes) and given, we realise as the novel progresses, an almost unbearable poignancy by what actually happened while Donne was buried in his obsession.

There are copious links drawn between the Psoad and the Gospels – and while initially I was wary of these (and have seen other reviews which seem to view the book as an attack on Christianity) I actually found the parallels and contrasts drawn interesting and thoughtful. They are I think less an attack than Martel’s approach across almost all his novels to take a syncretic approach to religions and traditions/folklore. Of course the idea that the Psoad paved the way for the gospels makes little actual sense given its entirely fictional nature, but is an interesting way to provide a kind of parallel-universe alternative for the way in which popular-classic-historian writer Tom Holland brilliantly shows in his “Dominion” how Christianity was such as radical break with the worldview of the ancient Greeks (and Romans).

Troy: Jerusalem; Psoas: Jesus. Contrary complements. Stories that are at the start and heart of Western culture, our founding myths, the first, the oldest, offering redemption through poetry, the second, the latter, salvation by faith. For both, we have mere wisps of evidence, then stories, then the Greeks and the Christians. The creation is of the same form: wisps, stories, a people. And so the conclusion: life is a walk, and while our bodies are solid, our joints are strong, and our vision is clear, yet we walk on feet of dreams.

And this is an example of why for me a Booker longlisting would not be unmerited as, far from without its flaws, this is nevertheless an impressively different and intelligently ambitious novel.

My thanks to Canongate for an ARC via NetGalley

The reconstruction of this Greek epic was a personal affair, which I share in this thesis not because I want to draw attention to myself, but to show that the past is never done with, that always there are parallels and returns and repetitions, always the song continues.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a really interesting book - I've never read anything like it. It's a novel told in Homer-esque verses and footnotes, and the pages are divided in two, with the verses on top and the footnotes on the bottom. Our scholar MC, Harlow, discovers a new tale of the Trojan War, and his life sort of mirrors that of the subject of the new tale, Psoas. This is a great book for fans of Greek Mythology.

[Text Publishing]

The following book reviews have been shared by Text Publishing – publisher of Son of Nobody

‘Stunningly imagined.’ [starred review]
Kirkus

‘A beautiful story about what we can learn from the past when it comes to homesickness, grief, love and ambition.’
Elle Magazine

‘An astounding feat of literary imagination.’
The King’s English Bookshop

‘Another staggering and insightful novel of ideas.’
Y! Entertainment

‘Perfect for readers who love history, myth, and philosophical storytelling.’
Art+

[Doreen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a very interesting read from the author best known for his Life of Pi.

Harlow Donne, a Canadian doctoral candidate studying Ancient Greek literature, leaves his wife Gail and his daughter Helen for a study year at Oxford University. From scraps of papyrus, he pieces together fragments of an unknown epic poem that he entitles The Psoad. This poem, about the Trojan War, differs in some ways from the version in The Iliad. What is most interesting is that Donne’s discovery presents the Trojan War from the point of view of Psoas, an ordinary foot soldier.

The novel has an interesting structure. Donne’s translation of this imagined Greek text is accompanied by commentary. Some of the annotations are academic in nature, clarifying, analyzing and interpreting the text. For instance, Donne notes differences between The Psoad and The Iliad and suggests parallels between The Iliad and the Bible as well as similarities between Psoas and Jesus. But there are also personal musings on his life with Gail and Helen.

Donne is not an especially likeable character. There is no doubt that he loves Helen, but he is academically ambitious and puts his studies before his family. After a tragedy, the extent of his self-centredness is emphasized. I noted that his academic notations tend be be precise and detailed whereas his personal reflections are much more general. There are several explanations for this but one is definitely that his focus is his scholarship; he himself admits that his “mind, strapped to the mast of a ship, was in the thrall of a Siren’s song.”

A major theme is that “the past is never done with, that always there are parallels and returns and repetitions, always the song continues.” Donne argues that The Iliad, Gilgamesh, and the Bible are foundational stories with few verifiable facts: “distant, immediate, unverifiable, compelling, subjective.” He also mentions “a commonality between the story of Troy and the story of Jesus: the acquiescent sacrifice of an offspring without which neither story can proceed. In both, the future is begot by killing the future.”

This theme is further explored with suggestions of parallels between Psoas and Donne. Both leave their countries and families on a quest, both have difficulties adjusting to their new environments, both experience a madness of sorts, and both are visited by tragedy. I did find that the parallels are sometimes spotlighted in a heavy-handed fashion. For instance, Psoas’ conversation with Hades obviously points towards a major event in Donne’s life. Obviously, the book highlights universal human experiences and emotions. Both Psoas and Donne experience homesickness, love, loss, anger, regret, and grief. Both learn about the sacrifices and cost of ambition.

Another theme is ordinary people are not really different than those of high status. Commoners are also capable of strength and courage. The Iliad focuses on the feats of heroes but Donne argues that The Psoad is a “radical call for egalitarianism” because it shows Psoas, often described as the son of nobody, as also capable of acts that are deemed heroic. Both Donne, a nobody from an unknown university, and Psoas dare to challenge those in authority. Even Jesus was “an illiterate, impoverished tradesman from an oppressed minority.” And, on the other hand, regardless of status, people can be “hiding places for monsters.”

This is a thought-provoking novel that I really enjoyed. It is unique and creative in its exploration of how an ancient story can resonate in the present.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.

Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/).

[F Kabs · Rating 4 out of 5]

⭐️ Son of Nobody by Yann Martel — 4/5
**Thank you to NetGalley for the ARC**

TLDR:
An inventive, footnote-driven novel that parallels a lost Greek epic with a modern academic’s life. Rich thematic commentary on class and heroism, but the MMC’s personal story and growth feel underdeveloped.

📖 Who Would Enjoy This Book
- Readers who love Greek mythology, particularly those interested in revisiting the broad plotlines and themes of The Iliad
- Readers who enjoy unconventional narrative structures, including stories told through footnotes

The structure of this book is immediately striking. Each page is split in two: the upper half contains a translation of the Psoad, while the lower half consists of footnotes—and it’s within these footnotes that the real story unfolds. I thought this was a clever reflection of the MMC, whose personality is rooted in pedantry and analysis. His dissection of the Psoad—a fictional poem lost to history—is meticulous and detail-oriented, while his reflections on his own life are rendered in broad strokes. Many of his interactions are presented purely as back-and-forth dialogue, with little description or summarization, which further emphasizes this imbalance.

What stood out most were the parallels drawn between the MMC and the Psoad. Much like the poem’s main character, Harlow is portrayed as a “son of nobody”—a man of modest means separated from his wife and child. The arrival of the Greek ships at Troy and the hardships endured by the soldiers mirror Harlow’s arrival in the UK and the difficulties of student life with minimal financial resources. The parallels extend further: Agamemnon and his daughter echo Harlow and his daughter, and even the timing of certain Psoad passages aligns meaningfully with Harlow’s narrative. For instance, the sections dealing with Hades coincide with a major event around the 75% mark of the book.

Thematically, I especially enjoyed the reflections on the socioeconomics of war. The idea that war functioned almost as a social interaction—with its own unspoken etiquette and scripted dialogue—took me by surprise. Even more startling was the notion that men of importance (kings, princes, heroes) only fought one another, while lower-class soldiers were left to battle their counterparts on the opposing side. It felt almost preposterous, yet deeply revealing. It has been a long time since I read The Iliad, and even then it was an abridged version, but this emphasis on social class—and the idea that heroism is reserved for those descended from gods or kings—really stuck with me. The choice to make the bard of the Psoad a commoner was particularly effective, as it shapes the language of the poem and allows the text to question the “truths” presented in The Iliad, making the story more engaging overall.

While I enjoyed the book, I found myself wishing there was more to Harlow’s personal story. At times, it felt like his arc could be summarized in just a couple of sentences, and I wanted more depth. There also didn’t seem to be much character growth: Harlow begins the novel with his head in the clouds, driven by whims and lacking clear priorities, and he ends it much the same way. I would have liked to see more self-reflection and accountability regarding his choices. The ending, too, felt somewhat unresolved, as though not everything was fully wrapped up.

We also don’t learn much about Helen. Beyond knowing that she enjoys stories and can be stubborn—as many children are—we don’t get a strong sense of her individuality. Her likes, dislikes, and eccentricities remain vague, leaving her feeling slightly mysterious, almost reminiscent of how Lemony Snicket refers to the elusive Beatrice in A Series of Unfortunate Events.

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every once in a while I run into a book that seems to have been written especially for me. Son of Nobody greeted my soul and embraced it through the final page.

This is a tale of two ordinary man—one a character, Psoas, in a previously uncovered epic Greek tale that gives an alternate account of the Trojan War; the other, Harlow, a PhD student with a gift of reading ancient Greek who uncovers this epic tale by translating papyri in a fully-funded year at Oxford. In order to take advantage of this scholarship, Harlow has to leave his wife and seven year old daughter, Helen.

What we have before us is a telling of that tale—and of Harlow’s. We see and read the text of the epic Harlow translated, and in the footnotes, he unpacks lines—and tells us his story, or rather, he tells Helen.

This book is about grief, but it’s also about explaining the stories that make up our lives. The stories that explain our lives.

As one who reads Greek (Koine) and one who loves Greek mythology and has read the Odyssey in full and the Iliad and Aeneid in part, I felt well prepared to read this book. I’ll admit that the voice of Hades in my head—even listening to the audiobook—was Patrick Page, who was in the original Broadway Cast of Hadestown as Hades. But you don’t need to have had my experiences to enjoy this book. You just need to pay attention to what’s going on.

This book appealed to my head but also my heart—in every way.

Something I loved that I haven’t seen reflected in reviews is that Harlow constantly compares epic tales to religious texts. He begins by referring to the oral tradition that led to the writing of the Gospels and noted areas where biblical texts (throughout the Hebrew Bible and New Testament) incorporate language and stories that had been passed down, stories that existed within the milieu of the time and place. I really loved this—and it’s true.

His thrust is basically this: the kernal or the basis of the myth is true (or may even historical) but it is understood through myth or “imaginative witness.” “If something explains, then how can it not be true? That’s Homer, in essence.”

—but only for the Psoad itself (the epic), not for Harlow’s story:
It’s never mentioned in the book per se, but “Son of Nobody” has a parallel to “Son of Man” in the Hebrew Bible and in the New Testament. The meaning of the phrase in Ezekiel (Hebrew) and Daniel (Aramaic) differs somewhat from the meaning in the Gospels (Greek), but many biblical scholars hold that the phrase is used by Jesus to emphasize his humanity, even if it’s used as a title. This is actually critical in understanding the book.

And it is notable in a parallel Harlow makes between the sacrifices made by Son of Nobody and Jesus.



The audiobook is wonderfully done, and the Greek pronunciations are stellar, as is the character differentiation. As someone who reads Greek, albeit Koine Greek, I very much wanted to see the text, and I recommend reading this book immersively—listening while reading with your eyes.

I was given access to an advanced listener copy of this book through NetGalley and am immensely grateful to NetGalley and RB Media. I got the ALC late in the game—late March. And I “read” the bulk of it on audio alone. This book was released on March 31, and I bought an ebook copy on that date and immersively finished it—reading with my eyes while listening to the book.

I fully recommend this book. I will likely re-read it again within the year.

[Matthew Ted · Rating 3 out of 5]

Yann Martel's first book in a decade, Son of Nobody follows a Canadian scholar discovering the Psoad, a free verse epic about a common soldier during the Trojan War (2026 is the year of Trojan War retellings!). Harlow Donne leaves his young daughter, Helen, and wife, Gail, to travel to Oxford, where he gets the opportunity to live and work for a year. It is here he finds the Psoad. The novel's structure is simple: part of the invented Psoad, written by Martel, of course, in free verse poetry, and then the subsequent annotations made by Donne. Very Pale Fire. Gradually, his personal life infringes on his footnotes more and more. His marriage is breaking at the seams and his daughter, Helen, is unwell. But he keeps on.

At first I found it light, fun and totally unbelievable. I guess we are reading Donne's 'translation' of the Psoad, but it felt so colloquial and contemporary that I never really believed I was reading a true lost epic from thirty centuries ago. Or at least, Martel didn't pull the wool over my eyes enough. I did not have my suspension of disbelief. As it went on, I also became more attuned to its superficiality. The elements of the epic poem were so clearly orchestrated to be parallels to the events in Donne's life that it lacked any kind of subtlety. Of course, the point of the novel was this very parallel/dual-narrative, but I felt Martel is too heavy-handed here. This is exemplified in the final third. And although I am not religious, the random attacks Martel/Donne makes on the Bible/Christianity/Jesus seem to be bolts from the blue. One minute he is discusses the Greek epic and the traditions of storytelling, and then he will switch it and say something along the lines of, 'And that is why we know the Bible is invented' (though admittedly, this time, with more subtlety than that - though not much!). It felt like halfway through the book Martel decided to also make this into an anti-church/anti-Christianity book. Very strange. Though the one comment he made that did stick to me was his concept of the Bible being an inverted version of The Iliad; he (Donne) argues that The Iliad, on the surface, is full of violence and war, but deep down is a poem about love and loyalty; conversely, he says, the Bible, on the surface, is all about love and loyalty, but deep down is a book with a rotten core of violence and war.

So, fun, but far more superficial than I was expecting. I recommend it, mostly because it kept my interest and I breezed through it, but I was hoping for something a little more substantial and thought-provoking. The ending damaged the book as a whole for me too. In the Guardian recently there was a review of the new Hamnet adaption, and the reviewer called it 'emotionally manipulative'. I've recounted this fact to two separate friends and they both said the exact same thing: 'Isn't that what art is?' I agreed with them. However, ironically, in this case, I would call Son of Nobody emotionally manipulative, or at least trying to be.

Thank you to Canongate for the advance copy for review.

[Celia W · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reviewing ARC prior to publishing
Gorgeous prose creatively rendering fact and fiction. Should appeal to anyone with an interest in Greek mythology, archeological exploration of how myth is made, and the unreliable narrator.
On the surface, the novel presents beautiful lyric; of Olympian politics, the perennial pursuit of plunder, and one classicist's quixotic journey. Son of Nobody's morbid dramaturgy is mere stage dressing for the actual, compelling thrust of the novel: the ugly, pointless reality of war and "the flesh of death" itself. Martel provides the anti-war message that 2026 desperately demands, in a world-- like Psoas's world, like the narrator Harlow Donne's world-- where disinformation prevails. This novel is bleak. It conveys the irrelevance of truth in more ways than one.
In Life of Pi, readers increasingly question the narrator's version of events, prompting us to re-interpret the text in its entirety. The same is true with Harlow Donne, who introduces the great mystery of the novel: "Who is 'the bard' behind the Psoad?" He investigates, and eventually announces that the fictional Thersites authored the work... this is like claiming that Jon Snow wrote Game of Thrones.
But we had the answer from page 13, where Donne's abstract stated plainly: "I am the lone author and sole translator of these Psoadic fragments." That he meant this literally becomes increasingly apparent as the novel progresses, as anachronisms, methodological disagreements, and God-like declarations proliferate ("I began to sing... after hearing myself recite, I sat down and determined where the English-language sun failed to shine as brightly as it might on the Trojan landscape. [I edited] the Ancient Greek song"). Donne's outlook is post-truth ("In a word, it's all fiction. Does it make sense, then, to quibble about which fiction is truer?"). If we once thought his footnotes annotated the Psoad, we now understand the reverse: Donne wrote the Psoad to annotate his lived experience.
... At least in theory. Some might like to re-read the novel with this in mind, but I didn't find the connections between the two narratives clear or consistent enough to make this activity worthwhile.
I found myself desiring greater character development across the novel (from Donne, Psoas, or anyone), though perhaps I wanted upward development, growth. Instead, we get downward spirals. Likewise, over time, Donne's musings on Christianity become increasingly bitter, almost shizoid. These universalist through-lines fell flat for me, and I wondered if Martel was over-ambitious. But if we ascribe these musings to our narrator, not our author, they make more sense. In the context of Harlow Donne's life-- likely raised Christian, with older brothers "Luke" and "David"-- they are lamentations of a grieving father, disillusioned with his own, inherited belief system.
Beyond that, "chicken-headed!" Inspired insult. Adding that to my arsenal.

[Robert Goodman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Canadian author Yan Martell is best known for his 2002 Booker Prize winning novel Life of Pi. There is no comparison with his latest book Son of Nobody except to say that this may well also be in contention for literary awards, if only for its style and its ambition. Son of Nobody purports to be a lost version of the story of the Trojan War, complete with footnotes that also reflect on the life of the man who found its fragments, pulled them together and translated them.

Son of Nobody opens with Canadian academic Harlow Donne telling the story of a piece of broken Greek pottery on which he found a clue to an untold story of the Trojan War.

“From hints and scraps, mere hoary whispers from millennia ago, I managed to construct thirty coherent fragments of The Psoad…”

The story that Donne presents is that of Psoas Son of Nobody, who was one of the commoners that formed the Greek armies that besieged Troy. Donne finds these fragments while doing other research in Oxford, an academic posting that has taken him away from his wife Gail, with whom he has a particularly fractious relationship, and his seven-year-old daughter Helen. Through some of the more personal footnotes to The Psoad, readers will learn more about Donne’s relationship, his family and some of his poorer decision-making as he goes down the rabbit-hole of his research.

The book is presented in two halves. On the top half of the pages is The Psoad, a more grounded version of The Iliad with less nobles and gods (although some of the Greek generals come and go from the story and Hades does make an appearance towards the end), translated in blank verse. On the bottom halves of the pages are the footnotes, some of which are academic and explanatory of the text, others are used by Donne to reflect on his life. This is particularly as even he sees the parallels between his own journey and exploits and that of his hero Psoas – a man who leaves his family to go to earn money and honour on the battlefield.

Son of Nobody is a prodigious work that manages to operate on a number of levels. It has a fictional yet believable Greek epic poem, supported by scholarly interpretation, that gives a very different but in some ways more believable view into a famous story. It then resonates with the personal and emotional journey of its translator which itself has elements of Greek tragedy.

There are plenty of retellings of Greek mythology doing the rounds at the moment. Pat Barker’s incredible Women of Troy trilogy of books focussing on the women who were central to the conflict and its aftermath. Mark Haddon also jumps through time and literary interpretation in his exploration of the story of Pericles in The Porpoise. But Son of Nobody is even more ambitious than these retellings. Martell successfully puts himself in the shoes of a Greek storyteller while also drawing parallels across time to deliver a deeply erudite and resonant work of fiction.

[Paula W · Rating 5 out of 5]

The gods know I went back and forth on whether or not I wanted to read this. Life of Pi remains one of my least favorite books that was critically acclaimed by virtually everyone. I was so angry at Yann Martel for that book that I couldn’t even write a review. But it has been a long time, and the boldly nutso idea of Son of Nobody being a book-within-a-book retelling of the Trojan War lured me in. I’m not sure if I hoped the author would fail or succeed.

The book is good. Very good, darn it. Parts of it are surprisingly funny given the storyline. Homer would be proud.

Son of Nobody is about an academic from Canada who gets the chance to study one of his favorite subjects — the wild and crazy Greek myths— at Oxford and leaves a wife and daughter at home for the semester to do so with hopes to further some research and make a name/career for himself and his family. He finds an unknown account of the Trojan War that follows a poor peasant who left his wife and children to be a soldier in hopes of securing some loot and making a name for himself and his family. We as readers get to follow the parallel stories of each man, just along for the ride watching a show we aren’t sure will end well.

Life always imitates art. And fact or fiction, reality or myth, there’s nothing new under the sun. History repeats itself constantly even if my problems and circumstances seem painfully unique to me alone. The decisions each character makes are not the point of the stories; those could be debated ad nauseam. The point is that the stories are mirrored, and that nothing good happens when each man continues along his path in a single-minded fixation, not caring who is behind or beside him in battle but striking straight ahead. Is it strategy? Is it madness? Does it matter? Because things end in devastation either way, and not just for themselves.

Also, I guess Hades is a gym bro. Who knew? 4.75 stars, darn it.

*Note on the audiobook: The production quality is great and the two narrators are excellent. Great job casting the two guys; I had a giggle at the “he had a deep voice” line.

Thanks to W. W. Norton & Company, Yann Martel (author), and Edelweiss for providing an advance digital review copy; and to RB Media and Netgalley for an advance listening copy (narrated by Robin Wilcock and Aaron Willis). Their generosity did not influence my review in any way.

[Caroline · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this book, but I didn’t love it.

The novel retells the story of the Trojan War in an epic poem, The Psoad, composed by Martel in free verse through the eyes of Psoas, the son of a goatherd who leaves his wife and family to fight at Troy. It’s inspired by Homer’s Iliad but gives voice to the ‘son of a nobody’ of the title, unlike the Iliad where only the gods, kings and princes are given a voice. The poem has been lost for centuries and is rediscovered in fragments three thousand years later by a Canadian academic, Harlow Donne, who has come to study at Oxford, leaving his own wife and daughter behind in Canada, and pieces together the poem. We learn snippets about Harlow’s life through the footnotes he writes to the poem, which also form an academic commentary on the work. The poem and its commentary is set out in an academic treatise written by Harlow which is addressed to Harlow’s daughter, the aptly named Helen, after Helen of Troy.

I enjoyed:
• Martel’s feat of imagination in recreating an epic poem about the Trojan war;
• the way in which Martel’s book communicates with the Iliad over the centuries, but casting it a new light by giving us the perspective of an ordinary soldier;
• that it was formally experimental and structurally challenging; and
• the academic Oxford setting and the focus on Greek literature.

I struggled with:
• the format of the ARC which doesn’t have the footnotes on the same page as the text to which it relates: I’d like to read the book again in the published format;
• a lack of character development of Harlow and the rather sketchy portrayal of his wife and daughter. Even though I studied Ancient Greek at school and Ancient and Modern History at Oxford and found the subject matter and setting fascinating, I thought the academic commentary overpowered Harlow’s own story and I would have enjoyed more focus on his family life and his interaction and culture clashes with the other academics; and
• the parallels between events in Harlow’s own life and events in The Psoad are perhaps a little heavy handed.

Thanks to NetGalley and Canongate Books for an ARC.

#yannmartel #literaryfiction #sonofnobody

[Pujashree · Rating 4 out of 5]

I haven't read any Yann Marten since Life of Pi as a new young immigrant in high school, and it was profoundly formative for me. So I couldn't have been more thrilled to receive the rare Netgalley blessing of both an advance ebook and audiobook copy of this book. I was a little skeptical at first of two narrative elements that I tire of these days: parallel historical and first person narratives in conversation with each other, and well, war, even epic fictional ones. However, trust Martel to find the right alchemy to keep me transfixed to his masterful storytelling that is simultaneously a commentary on the cost of war and the grief of losing that which you neglected for your lofty aspirations. What hooked me in at first was obviously the cool nerdy bit about uncovering a whole new Greek epic that seems to tell the story of the Trojan war from the POV of a common soldier, pieced together by a scholar who leaves his wife and child to pursue this research. The story that unfolds is not just the new tradition of the Psoad, but what is pieced together in the "footnotes", a narrative tool used not pretentiously for once by a literary fic author (ahem, George Saunders). This is all so deliciously meta yet not inaccessible. There is so much heartbreak and pain and loss in both stories, the worst of human hubris and flaws on display and in control, and yet also such wonder at the shared humanity across time, space and battlefields. The Psoad itself, as it unfolds, gives you a startlingly relevant perspective on such a foundational epic that questions the centuries old beliefs rooted in patriarchal greed and erasure of human context. No heroes or villains in war, only wasted flesh enough to make Hades weep. Utterly beautiful and masterfully tight, definitely one of my top reads of the year. The audiobook narration was also cast and performed perfectly, something that is crucial in Greek oral tradition, distinguishing between the narrative voice of the Psoadic bard and the scholar uncovering and annotating it in the depths of Oxford. This could've been bleak but turned out to be gently introspective. Bravo.

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This story follows Harlow Donne, a scholar, who receives a grant to study at Oxford. To do so means leaving behind his wife and his daughter, Helen, in pursuit of his academic ambitions. At Oxford, Harlow discovers the story of Psoas, the son of nobody, and works to interpret and present the findings as a new tale of the Trojan War shown from the view and experiences of a common man. Harlow addresses his work to his daughter, Helen. As he spends more and more time researching, calls go unanswered and relationships become strained between Harlow and his wife and daughter in Canada.

“Son of Nobody” is written in pieces interspersing the story of Psoas and the Trojan war and Harlow’s own personal story. In his interpretations of the found documents, Harlow also makes comparisons to the life of Jesus as its own sort of epic. In many ways, the “Psoad” and Harlow Donne’s own stories highlight the epic of the mundane – while the “Iliad” and the “Odyssey” present the stories of heroes and gods, the “Psoad” and Harlow’s personal life depict the day-to-day struggles of the common man. What will a man leave behind in the pursuit of glory? What happens to the family that is left behind? Are the sacrifices ultimately worth the ending? For, as these tales tell us, all epics end with a visit from Hades.

I consumed Yann Martel’s “Son of Nobody” as an advanced audiobook copy, and the two narrators provided unique voices for Harlow and the author of "The Psoad". You could feel the pain, loss, and longing in the delivery as the two individual tales wound around one another. As an audio read it did take a bit of time to understand all the people, places, and referenced to the history of ancient Greece. However, this did not detract from the overall emotions and heart of the story. I think that this book would be even more enjoyable as an immersive read/listen experience if you are someone who likes to see the names of people, cities, etc. on the page, or if you refer back to these things as you read.

Thank you NetGalley and RBMedia Recorded Books for this advanced audiobook copy for review. All opinions are my own.

[JerrieGayle · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautifully written, thought-provoking exploration of past and present. Publish date: March 31, 2026.

This contemporary literary fiction novel is a richly layered and intellectually engaging read that weaves together the modern world with the retelling of a Greek epic of the Trojan War. Alternating between present day and antiquity, the narrative is structured in a unique and deliberate way that allows the author to draw compelling parallels between then and now.

The story unfolds through Harlow Donne, a doctoral candidate who uncovers a lost Greek epic told in the first person by Theraites. Unlike traditional epics that center on gods or the ruling elite, this tale focuses on Psoas, a common man, offering a fresh and human perspective on familiar mythic themes. As Harlow pursues an opportunity to further his research at Oxford, his academic ambition comes at a personal cost, forcing him to leave his wife and young daughter behind in Canada.

Once Harlow discovers ‘The Psoad’, he begins piecing it together while addressing his daughter—and, by extension, the reader—directly in a reflective second-person narrative. Through this lens, he explores the idea that “the past is never done with,” emphasizing the cycles, repetitions, and enduring truths found in stories like ‘The Iliad’, ‘Gilgamesh’, and the ‘Gospels’. The novel thoughtfully examines what has remained unchanged across centuries.

Themes of war, grief, relationships, and the personal cost of conflict are explored not through heroes or gods, but through the lives of ordinary people. As tragedy strikes, Harlow continues working, mirroring Psoas’s own choices—decisions that ultimately come at a steep emotional price.

This is a novel that rewards patient, reflective reading and lingers in your thoughts long after the final page.

Thank you to NetGalley and W. W. Norton & Company for the free digital Advance Reader Copy. All opinions are my own and based on the advanced copy, which may differ from the final published version.

[Janine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wrestled with myself reading this book. It was a love-hate relationship often as I grappled with its structure and the retelling of The Iliad (I think it’s all those names I can’t pronounce) and with a character who refused to put fatherhood before scholarship. But by the end I grew to understand the profoundness of the story and appreciate that what you think should be a certain way, doesn’t have to be!

First the structure is the most unique I’ve ever seen. While it’s a story within a story as the author rewrites The Iliad from the perspective of a “nobody,” Psoad, it’s also a story of a scholar, Harlow Donne, as he studies a newly discovered Greek text of this Greek “nobody.” But these are then “divided” by a line as you would find in a history or nonfiction book where footnotes appear. Donne’s story is a “footnote” but is it? Take your time reading each. The poem is rather beautiful but the footnotes are the “meat” of the matter.

Both Donne and Psoad are nobodies. But while society may want to disregard nobodies, they are the predominant figures in it. That Psoad would dare to speak to or take on a person of vaulted stature in Greek society would be reprehensible as would Donne in disregarding the instructions of the Oxford Don, Cubitt, overseeing his sabbatical. This is the crux of the story I think. In the footnote sections, we learn of how both do this and what happens when they disregard the order of things.

Donne’s story is a study in scholarly concupiscence - what is more important: family or job/career? A tragic event brings this question to the fore. While Donne has a deep love for his family (he’s in England and they are in Canada), his choices in regard to them are shallow even though he tries to rationalize his work as a paean to his child. As to Psoad, he shows the same kind of stupidity but his story also represents how time doesn’t change much: nobodies and somebodies haven’t changed much through time.

Finally I was intrigued by the comparison at times in the footnotes between Psoad’s story and Jesus. Jesus came for the common man, which Psoad represents in his “nobodynness”. Our human vanity gets in the way of appreciating that we can be nobody and still be relevant.

Definitely this book is a deep story of “life, death,” grief and how our vanity gets in the way of honesty and meaning.

Thank you NetGalley and Norton for allowing me to read this ARC.

[Sharon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yann Martel's Son of Nobody is a book I anticipated eagerly, based on how much I enjoyed reading Life of Pi. Having read Son of Nobody, I'm left a bit muddled about how to capture my thoughts. On one hand, there is a brilliance to the book and the feeling of watching the careening, chaotic crash of an intelligent man's life is weirdly visceral. I say weirdly because a part of the reading experience is the somewhat rambling telling of a companion story to The Iliad that threatened to put me to sleep a number of times. I fear I'm not as captivated by mythology as I was as a child, so this is really my issue.

The protagonist, Harlow Donne, is a classics scholar in Canada. He jumps at an opportunity to leave his home to continue his research at Oxford, studying fragments of ancient papyri to piece together a previously undiscovered epic poem and complete his doctoral research. This means leaving behind his wife, Gail, and daughter, Helen, after his wife refuses to uproot their lives to join Harlow in England. As he pieces together and relates the epic of "Psoas" fragments and parallels to his own life and modern life, generally, become clear. While it's brilliant, it can feel a bit disjointed. I preferred the story line that tells of Harlow's life, his relationship with his cherished Helen, and his fraught relationship with Gail. I would have enjoyed more of that.

Despite this, I found myself highlighting many passages that seemed like perfect nuggets of a delicious word salad. I also ached reading the descriptions of isolation, bewilderment, and grief, and how similarly humans react to these emotions. The events of The Psoad, written years before the common era, parallel Harlow's life, taking place in the early 21st century.

For me, the story and the reading experience are a 3.5 but the quality of the writing makes me round up to a 4. I am appreciative of W.W. Norton & Company and NetGalley sharing an eARC of Son of Nobody with me. All opinions are wholly my own.

[John Waites · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yann Martel takes one of the most iconic war stories ever told and flips the lens—away from heroes and gods, and onto someone history forgot. Enter Psoas, the “son of nobody,” an ordinary man surviving the chaos of Troy. And somehow, his story feels more urgent, more human, more real than any legend carved in marble.

But this isn’t just one story—it’s layered. A scholar, Harlow Donne, uncovers fragments of this lost narrative and becomes consumed by it, drifting away from his own life in the process. What unfolds is a novel that moves between ancient verse and modern reflection, separated like a translated manuscript—poetry above, commentary below. It’s part epic, part academic obsession, part quiet unraveling.

And wow—it works.

The sections of the Psoad (this “lost” epic) read like something excavated from time itself, yet they feel shockingly contemporary. War isn’t glorified here—it’s stripped down to fear, futility, and survival. Meanwhile, the footnotes blur the line between scholarship and confession, as Harlow’s personal life starts echoing the very themes he’s studying: distance, longing, sacrifice.

What hit hardest? The way this book interrogates the stories we inherit. Who gets remembered? Who gets erased? And what does that say about us? Martel doesn’t just revisit myth—he challenges it, pulling apart the old frameworks shaped by power, ego, and tradition, and replacing them with something more intimate, more honest.

There’s grief here. There’s quiet devastation. But there’s also a deep sense of connection—across centuries, across texts, across lives.

And the writing? Precise, luminous, and deeply intentional. Martel is in full command of his craft, weaving together Greek mythology, biblical undertones, and literary analysis into something that feels both intellectual and deeply emotional.

If you love literary fiction that does something bold—that questions the very nature of storytelling while still delivering a gripping, human narrative—this is it.