From the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of Middlesex and The Virgin Suicides comes an intimate memoir of his father’s spectacular rise–and tragic end.
A few days before Thanksgiving 1994, Jeffrey Eugenides’s father, Gus, was piloting a small plane when it crashed in Daytona Beach, Florida. The circumstances surrounding his death added to the mystery of a life that defied expectations, but left many questions unanswered.
Now, more than 30 years later, Eugenides tells the story of how his father, a first-generation American, rose from Detroit’s east side to find financial success as a mortgage banker and real estate developer–only to lose it all. Was he the victim of a series of bad breaks, or did his dogged pursuit of the American Dream lead him to overextend and overreach? And, ironically, what role did the U.S. government play in bringing ruin to this most patriotic of citizens?
Written in an engaging style more direct than that of his novels, Eugenides appears here unmasked to deliver a moving account of his relationship with his indomitable father, a man for whom he felt admiration, exasperation, gratitude, tenderness, pity and love. Read by the author, this deeply personal audio journey invites listeners to join Eugenides as he finally confronts the truth of his father's last flight.
Additional narration provided by Barrett Leddy, Neil Hellegers, and Vikas Adam.
Jeffrey Kent Eugenides is an American author. He has written numerous short stories and essays, as well as three novels: The Virgin Suicides (1993), Middlesex (2002), and The Marriage Plot (2011). The Virgin Suicides served as the basis of the 1999 film of the same name, while Middlesex received the 2003 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in addition to being a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, the International Dublin Literary Award, and France's Prix Médicis.
I was reeling when I finished this the other day- staring out into space type of eureka moment.
I love books that would leave you dumbfounded and incoherent - this book left me at that state.
In my opinion, this is the eulogy that would end all eulogies. 30 years in the making and written by a Pulitzer prize winner.
This is beautiful and haunting - I haven't had the experience of losing a parent but I did struggled with losing father figures recently and this is such a bittersweet reminder of lives well-lived and a sort of an ode to people who made an impact in our lives.
In this case, the author's life but it was a perfect juxtaposition to my recent experiences.
This was a short story about the author’s father’s death- with a really interesting sneak peak into the life he led. It was short but really touched me, the things you know or don’t know about your parents, the clues people leave behind after they’re gone, the mystery of death, and importance of closure.
I love this author. He is originally from Grosse Pointe, Michigan, which is where I grew up, and his stories always involve at least a little bit of that area. So, I was super excited to see that this memoir was free on Audible. It is a deeply reflective account of his father’s fatal plane crash. He narrates it mostly himself. It’s a quick, worthwhile listen.
Icarus is a quiet, haunting memoir that sits with grief rather than trying to solve it. In this deeply personal book, Jeffrey Eugenides returns to the life and death of his father, Gus, who died in a small plane crash in Florida in 1994.
More than three decades later, Eugenides revisits the story not to sensationalise it, but to understand the man behind it.
Gus was a first generation American who rose from Detroit’s east side to financial success as a mortgage banker and real estate developer. His life reads, in many ways, like a classic American Dream narrative, shaped by ambition, optimism and relentless forward motion. Yet that same drive ultimately led to loss and ruin.
Eugenides gently explores the question that lingers throughout the book. Was his father undone by bad luck, by the systems around him, or by his own refusal to stop pushing forward.
What makes Icarus so affecting is its emotional honesty. Eugenides writes more directly here than in his fiction, allowing himself to be fully present on the page. He does not shy away from contradiction. His feelings toward his father are layered and unresolved, moving between admiration, frustration, tenderness, gratitude, pity and love.
This complexity gives the memoir its weight. Gus is neither mythologised nor diminished. He is allowed to be fully human.
I have not experienced the loss of a parent, but having lost a father figure (step-father and grandfather) in recent years, this book resonated deeply. It felt like a bittersweet reminder of lives well lived and the lasting imprint people leave on us, even when their stories end in uncertainty.
There is something profoundly moving about the way Eugenides captures how parents, despite their flaws, try to protect their children from the hardest parts of life.
One of the most heartbreaking elements of the book is the inclusion of transcripts between Gus and air traffic control during his final flight. Reading or hearing these exchanges strips away any distance. They are calm, procedural and devastating, grounding the memoir in a moment that cannot be undone. It is here that the title fully lands. Not as spectacle, but as a quiet fall.
Icarus is not just a book about loss. It is a meditation on ambition, masculinity, inheritance and the stories we tell ourselves about success. Above all, it is an act of love. A son bearing witness to his father’s life in all its contradictions, and finally allowing himself to sit with the truth.
Beautiful, restrained and deeply human, this is a memoir that lingers long after the final page.
I haven't recovered from it to write a proper review yet. I only recently discovered the author and I'm in love with his ability to make me time travel, to make me remember places I've never been to, and to make me love and care about my family and my heritage more than before. It's funny, it took an American (Greek American, sure, nevertheless American) to remind me I am Greek. The loss of my father has cost me. I don't compare our fathers. They are night and day. I don't compare the way they died or even the impact in our lives their death had. But there is something about loosing a parent, and there is something about being Greek living abroad that makes words easy, familiar, cozy and close. I don't know how to articulate the feelings that surfaced during this read. When I do, I'll write a better review.
nice short memoir by one of the greats, about the death of his father - a mortgage/real estate entrepreneur / piloting hobbyist who lost his fortune before losing his life in a plane crash. This was an audiobook only I believe because he analyzes the audio transcript between air traffic control and Gus Eugenides.
An author narrated free “Audible Listen” combined tribute and investigation that shares personal memories, questions, and gratitude along with exploration into the circumstances surrounding his father’s fatal plane crash.
What a frustrating, heartbreaking, and tragic situation to have to endure. My heart broke for this family. Then, to hear or read through the transcripts between the pilot (Dad) and the traffic control team . . . Sad.
i hadn’t realized how much i’ve missed eugenides. it feels really special to not only hear his voice in 2025, but hear it delivering his memoir. my high school heart is tugged by the insight into the life of the man who wrote the virgin suicides. it’s a short listen but i hung on his every word.
A wonderful book about the death of Eugenides's father in a plane crash. The author describes his complicated father with affection and honesty and looks at his death as objectively as he can. Like of of his books, this one is beautifully written and ultimately very touching.
Decent, not long, somewhat intriguing at times but slow at others. Narration was good, appreciated that the narration was the author and the story was about his father.
This one is a slow burn. A poignant meditation on the author's father's life. Especially poignant to this guy who has an aging father who was anything but a black-and-white character.