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The Walls Are Closing In On Us
Circus performers. Mountain lions. A fight to the death. A half deer/half man. Love and death. A cabin in the woods. A fictional retelling of a mysterious ancestor. The Walls Are Closing In On Us is a Southern odyssey that follows George, a dying Choctaw and white man, reckoning with the ghosts of his past as he bleeds out beside a cold North Carolina river, hundreds of miles from home.
Starting with his childhood in Mississippi, The Walls Are Closing In On Us travels across the southeast – by car, foot, and train – along with George on his search for love, anonymity and a quiet life. Only by reexamining a lifetime of flight, grief and the haunting consequences of a teenage act of survival, can George be allowed some version the solitude he's been searching for.
Based ever so slightly on a true story, this Southern odyssey explores what it means to be anyone at all, and how even the simple act of reading someone’s name is enough to bring them back to life – no matter if they wish to remain forgotten.
Advanced Praise:
“Mournful, epic, revelatory: The Walls Are Closing in On Us tells the life of one man scaled against a world and time more richly drawn than any I've read in years. Brown writes with uncommon grace, weaving a tapestry of memory and regret so real you can feel it in your bones. This has the wonder and sorrow of Denis Johnson's Train Dreams and the raw power of classic Southern fiction. A sweeping evocation of a lost time and a forgotten life.”
-Kent Wascom, author of the Washington Post’s and NPR’s best book of the year The Blood of Heaven
"With traces of Paul Harding's Tinkers and Denis Johnson's Train Dreams, The Walls are Closing In On Us is a moving novel about racial tensions, segregation, and coming of age in a rapidly changing America. This is a book that examines not only the soul of a man but—perhaps—the soul of a nation."
- Austin Ross, author of Gloria Patri
Starting with his childhood in Mississippi, The Walls Are Closing In On Us travels across the southeast – by car, foot, and train – along with George on his search for love, anonymity and a quiet life. Only by reexamining a lifetime of flight, grief and the haunting consequences of a teenage act of survival, can George be allowed some version the solitude he's been searching for.
Based ever so slightly on a true story, this Southern odyssey explores what it means to be anyone at all, and how even the simple act of reading someone’s name is enough to bring them back to life – no matter if they wish to remain forgotten.
Advanced Praise:
“Mournful, epic, revelatory: The Walls Are Closing in On Us tells the life of one man scaled against a world and time more richly drawn than any I've read in years. Brown writes with uncommon grace, weaving a tapestry of memory and regret so real you can feel it in your bones. This has the wonder and sorrow of Denis Johnson's Train Dreams and the raw power of classic Southern fiction. A sweeping evocation of a lost time and a forgotten life.”
-Kent Wascom, author of the Washington Post’s and NPR’s best book of the year The Blood of Heaven
"With traces of Paul Harding's Tinkers and Denis Johnson's Train Dreams, The Walls are Closing In On Us is a moving novel about racial tensions, segregation, and coming of age in a rapidly changing America. This is a book that examines not only the soul of a man but—perhaps—the soul of a nation."
- Austin Ross, author of Gloria Patri
310 pages, Paperback
Published March 3, 2026
About the author
Joshua Trent Brown
3 books10 followersJoshua Trent Brown is from a little North Carolina town you’ve never heard of. "The Walls Are Closing In On Us" is his first novel. He hopes you enjoy it.
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
February 3, 2026
The Walls Are Closing In is a quiet, emotionally weighty novel that follows one man’s life across hardship, displacement, and the search for belonging. Told through a reflective, memory-driven lens, the story traces George, a half-Choctaw boy growing up in the rural South whose life is shaped less by his own choices than by the forces around him — poverty, racism, violence, and chance encounters.
What stands out most is the author’s restraint. The book does not lecture about injustice or label events for the reader. Instead, it presents lived moments plainly and trusts the reader to wrestle with their meaning. Racism, religious condemnation, and social exclusion are revealed through character actions and consequences rather than commentary, giving the novel moral gravity without feeling didactic.
The prose is fluid and accessible, yet the subject matter is heavy. Suffering is normalized in George’s world; tragedy arrives, he absorbs it, and he moves on. But the novel quietly asks whether moving on is the same as healing. Over time, it becomes clear that trauma does not disappear simply because it is buried — it accumulates.
George is not a traditional proactive protagonist. He reacts, adapts, and survives. Others often choose for him, and he obliges. At first this reads as passivity, but by the end it feels more like a portrait of someone shaped by constrained options and repeated threat. His strategy is endurance, and the novel gently suggests endurance has limits.
Spiritual and symbolic elements — ghosts, visions, and recurring images like the Ferris wheel — add a contemplative layer. The closing pages lean toward spiritual release, evoking a place without pain or walls and suggesting peace after a lifetime of pressure and grief.
This is not a plot-driven novel; it is a character study built on accumulation and echo. Readers who appreciate quiet literary fiction that trusts them to think and feel alongside the story will find much to admire here.
Note: This novel includes heavy themes such as violence, grief, and suicide.
What stands out most is the author’s restraint. The book does not lecture about injustice or label events for the reader. Instead, it presents lived moments plainly and trusts the reader to wrestle with their meaning. Racism, religious condemnation, and social exclusion are revealed through character actions and consequences rather than commentary, giving the novel moral gravity without feeling didactic.
The prose is fluid and accessible, yet the subject matter is heavy. Suffering is normalized in George’s world; tragedy arrives, he absorbs it, and he moves on. But the novel quietly asks whether moving on is the same as healing. Over time, it becomes clear that trauma does not disappear simply because it is buried — it accumulates.
George is not a traditional proactive protagonist. He reacts, adapts, and survives. Others often choose for him, and he obliges. At first this reads as passivity, but by the end it feels more like a portrait of someone shaped by constrained options and repeated threat. His strategy is endurance, and the novel gently suggests endurance has limits.
Spiritual and symbolic elements — ghosts, visions, and recurring images like the Ferris wheel — add a contemplative layer. The closing pages lean toward spiritual release, evoking a place without pain or walls and suggesting peace after a lifetime of pressure and grief.
This is not a plot-driven novel; it is a character study built on accumulation and echo. Readers who appreciate quiet literary fiction that trusts them to think and feel alongside the story will find much to admire here.
Note: This novel includes heavy themes such as violence, grief, and suicide.
May 7, 2026
The Walls Are Closing In on Us is the kind of book that moves quietly at first-and then suddenly you realize it's got you.
We follow George, a half-Choctaw man at the end of his life, bleeding out by a cold river in North Carolina, replaying everything that brought him there. And what unfolds isn't just one story-it's a lifetime shaped by things he never really had control over: poverty, racism, violence, and the randomness of where you're born and who you cross paths with.
The writing is simple, but don't mistake that for light.
This book carries weight. Every scene feels grounded, lived-in. Nothing flashy-just honest storytelling that lets the emotion do the work.
I found myself identifying with George. He doesn't feel like a character-you feel like you know him. His whole life is this constant push to survive, to adjust, to keep going no matter what gets thrown at him. It reminded me of a motto I learned in the military: adapt and overcome. Not in a heroic, polished way-but in a real, gritty, day-by-day kind of survival.
The book moves back and forth in time, slowly filling things in, building tension without forcing it. By the time it all starts to come together, you're already there at the river with him.
The descriptions are simple but sharp. You can see everything clearly-the places, the people, the tension sitting under it all.
This isn't a loud book. It doesn't beg for your attention.
But if you give it your time, it stays with you.
A haunting, slow-burn reflection on memory, identity, and what it means to endure when life doesn't give you many options.
We follow George, a half-Choctaw man at the end of his life, bleeding out by a cold river in North Carolina, replaying everything that brought him there. And what unfolds isn't just one story-it's a lifetime shaped by things he never really had control over: poverty, racism, violence, and the randomness of where you're born and who you cross paths with.
The writing is simple, but don't mistake that for light.
This book carries weight. Every scene feels grounded, lived-in. Nothing flashy-just honest storytelling that lets the emotion do the work.
I found myself identifying with George. He doesn't feel like a character-you feel like you know him. His whole life is this constant push to survive, to adjust, to keep going no matter what gets thrown at him. It reminded me of a motto I learned in the military: adapt and overcome. Not in a heroic, polished way-but in a real, gritty, day-by-day kind of survival.
The book moves back and forth in time, slowly filling things in, building tension without forcing it. By the time it all starts to come together, you're already there at the river with him.
The descriptions are simple but sharp. You can see everything clearly-the places, the people, the tension sitting under it all.
This isn't a loud book. It doesn't beg for your attention.
But if you give it your time, it stays with you.
A haunting, slow-burn reflection on memory, identity, and what it means to endure when life doesn't give you many options.
February 11, 2026
It’s so hard to believe that this is a debut novel. It strikes such a balance of approachable writing while still being deeply layered. Reading it felt like listening to a friend tell their life story — honest, reflective, raw.
The pacing is intentional. The foundation is so carefully laid to paint a full picture of George’s inner workings. Moving between past and present helped build a steady suspense to the point that I couldn’t put this down for the last 40%. The whole time I was so eager to find out what would happen to George in the present while also understanding the need for us to see what brought him to this point.
The thread of compassion remained even when contrasted to the darker narratives at play throughout. This has a lot of emotional weight but is so well done and made me feel all the feels. You will be well rewarded when you pick up this book!
The pacing is intentional. The foundation is so carefully laid to paint a full picture of George’s inner workings. Moving between past and present helped build a steady suspense to the point that I couldn’t put this down for the last 40%. The whole time I was so eager to find out what would happen to George in the present while also understanding the need for us to see what brought him to this point.
The thread of compassion remained even when contrasted to the darker narratives at play throughout. This has a lot of emotional weight but is so well done and made me feel all the feels. You will be well rewarded when you pick up this book!
May 12, 2026
I have struggled to find the words to write about this book, which feels so personal, and so quiet in the way it expresses grief, loss, and unbelonging. To write anything at all feels like betraying the confession of a friend, but this is an important story, so I will say this:
I don't think I've ever cried more during a book than I did while reading The Walls Are Closing In On Us. Aside from the fact that the story is full of tragedy, my reading of it also coincided with a moment in my life where I had already been reflecting on my own experience of boyhood—trying to trace my finger back to the moment when that boy inside of me was suffocated and hollowed out, and trying to figure out why I put so much distance between myself and him, to the point where sometimes I doubt that any innocent part of me ever existed. Where did these walls come from that I erect both within and outside myself? Did the world put them there, or did I? Maybe it was a collaborative effort.
Watching George (the protagonist of the novel) go through that same experience—coming of age in a world full of dehumanizing hatred and watching that world become reflected through his eyes and his actions until he became an alien to himself with no home or identity to call his own—just hit me way harder than I expected. I never grew up in the American South or experienced a fraction of the racism that George does throughout this novel, but as a mixed kid myself, I know what it is like to see yourself differently than the world sees you, to feel like you exist in two places at once, and to have to come to terms with that. I thought that feeling of separation was explored beautifully not only throughout the story but also through the structure of the narrative itself, which is told in a series of flashbacks as George weaves in and out of consciousness, quite literally in limbo, bleeding out on the forest floor and having to contend with the choices both in and out of his control that wound him up there.
Joshua Trent Brown has written a stunning debut here. He writes with a steady hand, his prose is measured and smooth, and his pacing is consistent, but more importantly, he has managed to convey a complex message about morality in the face of racism with a simple, beautiful, sad story that I think anyone can read, relate to, and enjoy. Don't sleep on this one, y'all.
I don't think I've ever cried more during a book than I did while reading The Walls Are Closing In On Us. Aside from the fact that the story is full of tragedy, my reading of it also coincided with a moment in my life where I had already been reflecting on my own experience of boyhood—trying to trace my finger back to the moment when that boy inside of me was suffocated and hollowed out, and trying to figure out why I put so much distance between myself and him, to the point where sometimes I doubt that any innocent part of me ever existed. Where did these walls come from that I erect both within and outside myself? Did the world put them there, or did I? Maybe it was a collaborative effort.
Watching George (the protagonist of the novel) go through that same experience—coming of age in a world full of dehumanizing hatred and watching that world become reflected through his eyes and his actions until he became an alien to himself with no home or identity to call his own—just hit me way harder than I expected. I never grew up in the American South or experienced a fraction of the racism that George does throughout this novel, but as a mixed kid myself, I know what it is like to see yourself differently than the world sees you, to feel like you exist in two places at once, and to have to come to terms with that. I thought that feeling of separation was explored beautifully not only throughout the story but also through the structure of the narrative itself, which is told in a series of flashbacks as George weaves in and out of consciousness, quite literally in limbo, bleeding out on the forest floor and having to contend with the choices both in and out of his control that wound him up there.
Joshua Trent Brown has written a stunning debut here. He writes with a steady hand, his prose is measured and smooth, and his pacing is consistent, but more importantly, he has managed to convey a complex message about morality in the face of racism with a simple, beautiful, sad story that I think anyone can read, relate to, and enjoy. Don't sleep on this one, y'all.
April 6, 2026
A solid debut novel! Thank you to the author for asking me to read it! Will publish a full review on Instagram in the next day or two
March 9, 2026
"Suffering will not leave you”
May 6, 2026
Brown has written a masterful Southern tragedy - deeply and undeniably tragic.
I’m calling it now; this novel needs to be required reading in North Carolina classrooms.
I’m calling it now; this novel needs to be required reading in North Carolina classrooms.
April 12, 2026
This is a tragic, southern epic from the voice of a Choctaw man on his deathbed. As he flashes back to scenes from his past, he comes to terms with the parts, decisions, and people in his life. (Sidenote: The clear voice of an oppressed main character, on the run and often at loss for what to do next, reminds me of a previous read, James by Percival Everett.)
Trent writes with a passion for George and his suffering. His southern-set fiction weaves the story with care that is impressive for a debut novel. I enjoyed the North Carolina-specific nods by including the Lumbee tribe, tobacco farming, strong (sometimes violent) religious groups, and specific NC places mentioned. These helped me envision the book in more detail since it was set back in history. Sometimes the internal thoughts were scattered, but the book had me rooting for George and hoping that at the end of his hard life he would find peace (with himself and God).
Trent writes with a passion for George and his suffering. His southern-set fiction weaves the story with care that is impressive for a debut novel. I enjoyed the North Carolina-specific nods by including the Lumbee tribe, tobacco farming, strong (sometimes violent) religious groups, and specific NC places mentioned. These helped me envision the book in more detail since it was set back in history. Sometimes the internal thoughts were scattered, but the book had me rooting for George and hoping that at the end of his hard life he would find peace (with himself and God).
April 16, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC.
This was a really good book. I just picked it up randomly because someone posted about it on Reddit, but it was really good. It did feel a little slow in the beginning, but then the story picked up and my attention was caught and I really wanted to know how it proceeds and ends. And while the story focuses on George, the other characters also really got to me. While heavy, this was an enjoyable read about an important topic, and I'm really glad it showed up on my Reddit feed.
This was a really good book. I just picked it up randomly because someone posted about it on Reddit, but it was really good. It did feel a little slow in the beginning, but then the story picked up and my attention was caught and I really wanted to know how it proceeds and ends. And while the story focuses on George, the other characters also really got to me. While heavy, this was an enjoyable read about an important topic, and I'm really glad it showed up on my Reddit feed.
May 4, 2026
Incredibly vivid imagery and characters described in simple and approachable yet elegant writing. The plot will engage you even as it feels like your heart is being squeezed. Poignant and incredibly well done.
March 9, 2026
Great, spot-on review on here by Robert Mullinnex, so I realize it’s better to like his than to try & rephrase it myself- but I will add, this is a haunting story. I quickly became invested in reading on to learn the fate of George. Mr. Brown has woven George into my thoughts; his musings became my musings. No doubt I will be revisiting this story & the vivid-as-a-movie scenes in my mind for quite some time.
May 3, 2026
Beautifully written, the type of book that leaves you thinking and feeling after you’ve finished it!
April 28, 2026
A haunting, lyrical meditation on the weight of a life spent in motion. Set against the backdrop of a riverbank in North Carolina, we meet George—a dying man whose final moments become the catalyst for a sweeping journey through his own history. As a man of mixed Choctaw and white heritage who grew up in the oppressive heat of Mississippi, George’s life has been defined by the act of running. Brown masterfully captures the exhaustion of a man fleeing not just from external violence, but from the internal fractures of identity and the unanswered questions of where a person like him truly belongs.
The narrative shines brightest in its ability to blend gritty, visceral realism with moments that feel almost ethereal and dreamlike. As George sifts through his memories of love, loss, and the raw mechanics of survival, the prose takes on a rhythmic, hypnotic quality. I found myself completely lost in the story, pulled under by the emotional gravity of George’s struggle to keep going even when the world felt like it was physically tightening around him. Knowing that the story is loosely based on the author’s own great-grandfather adds a profound layer of intimacy to the book; you can feel the familial reverence in every page, giving the historical struggles a sense of lived-in truth.
While the atmospheric pacing is largely effective, there were segments where the story began to drag, lingering perhaps a bit too long in the shadows of George’s psyche at the expense of the narrative momentum. Additionally, the ending is a bit of a conversational piece—I’m still not entirely sure it fully sold me on the resolution of George’s long journey. However, these are minor gripes in an otherwise powerful exploration of race, grief, and the resilience of the human spirit. It is a beautiful, somber tribute to the ancestors who survived so that their stories could finally be told.
The narrative shines brightest in its ability to blend gritty, visceral realism with moments that feel almost ethereal and dreamlike. As George sifts through his memories of love, loss, and the raw mechanics of survival, the prose takes on a rhythmic, hypnotic quality. I found myself completely lost in the story, pulled under by the emotional gravity of George’s struggle to keep going even when the world felt like it was physically tightening around him. Knowing that the story is loosely based on the author’s own great-grandfather adds a profound layer of intimacy to the book; you can feel the familial reverence in every page, giving the historical struggles a sense of lived-in truth.
While the atmospheric pacing is largely effective, there were segments where the story began to drag, lingering perhaps a bit too long in the shadows of George’s psyche at the expense of the narrative momentum. Additionally, the ending is a bit of a conversational piece—I’m still not entirely sure it fully sold me on the resolution of George’s long journey. However, these are minor gripes in an otherwise powerful exploration of race, grief, and the resilience of the human spirit. It is a beautiful, somber tribute to the ancestors who survived so that their stories could finally be told.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Simply put, this is a story about a half-Choctaw man who just wanted to find a home and a place to belong amidst a life encumbered by discrimination and many many tragedies.
This is one of those stories that I call "unfortunately realistic." So many terrible things take place in George's life to the point where you'll probably be thinking that surely nobody is this unlucky. However the reality is that growing up non-white in America—especially in the 1930s—meant that you were pretty much guaranteed to have a life filled with injustices. And while George definitely made some poor decisions at certain points that led to him continuing on what was most likely the more difficult path, the story still feels very believable and his choices make sense for his character.
I have to say that the title for this novel fits the story perfectly as well. Although "the walls are closing in on us" is a phrase used a couple of times in the story itself, the experience of actually reading the novel really takes things a step further. There were multiple points in the novel where I myself started to feel anxious as if the walls were closing in on me as well.
This is definitely one of those debut novels that feels more refined than one would probably expect! It's a compelling story that's able to bring up real emotions in the reader. I'd absolutely recommend this one to readers who enjoy character driven novels and don't mind reading a story that's more tragic than it is happy.
(I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher, Malarkey Books, via NetGalley and I am leaving this review voluntarily. All opinions are my own.)
This is one of those stories that I call "unfortunately realistic." So many terrible things take place in George's life to the point where you'll probably be thinking that surely nobody is this unlucky. However the reality is that growing up non-white in America—especially in the 1930s—meant that you were pretty much guaranteed to have a life filled with injustices. And while George definitely made some poor decisions at certain points that led to him continuing on what was most likely the more difficult path, the story still feels very believable and his choices make sense for his character.
I have to say that the title for this novel fits the story perfectly as well. Although "the walls are closing in on us" is a phrase used a couple of times in the story itself, the experience of actually reading the novel really takes things a step further. There were multiple points in the novel where I myself started to feel anxious as if the walls were closing in on me as well.
This is definitely one of those debut novels that feels more refined than one would probably expect! It's a compelling story that's able to bring up real emotions in the reader. I'd absolutely recommend this one to readers who enjoy character driven novels and don't mind reading a story that's more tragic than it is happy.
(I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher, Malarkey Books, via NetGalley and I am leaving this review voluntarily. All opinions are my own.)
Review of advance copy received from Author
Another great novel coming out of Malarkey Books. This one is absolutely soaked in grief as we meet George, a dying mixed‑race Choctaw man lying in the woods near a river, his body broken and beaten, waiting for the end. As he drifts in and out of consciousness, he’s visited by the ghosts of his deepest regrets and the people who shaped him, for better or worse, as he moved through the world.
Like most Southern gothic stories, The Walls Are Closing In On Us simmers with quiet rage. It digs into segregation, racial tension, generational trauma, and the relentless, bone‑deep anxiety of trying to outrun a past that refuses to stay buried. Brown threads these themes through a landscape that feels both mythic and painfully real, blending historical fiction with a touch of magical realism that never feels ornamental — it feels earned, inevitable, haunting.
There’s a rawness to the writing that feels similar to Denis Johnson’s bruised lyricism and Taylor Brown’s sense of place — that same mix of grit, lyricism, and spiritual exhaustion. Yet Joshua Trent Brown is doing his own thing here, too, with this story about a man facing death while reckoning with the versions of himself he left scattered across the years, and the country that shaped him in ways he never asked for.
It’s heavy but it’s also strangely tender — a novel about endings that still manages to honor the small, stubborn ways people keep going.
If you're not reading Malarkey, what are you even reading?!
Like most Southern gothic stories, The Walls Are Closing In On Us simmers with quiet rage. It digs into segregation, racial tension, generational trauma, and the relentless, bone‑deep anxiety of trying to outrun a past that refuses to stay buried. Brown threads these themes through a landscape that feels both mythic and painfully real, blending historical fiction with a touch of magical realism that never feels ornamental — it feels earned, inevitable, haunting.
There’s a rawness to the writing that feels similar to Denis Johnson’s bruised lyricism and Taylor Brown’s sense of place — that same mix of grit, lyricism, and spiritual exhaustion. Yet Joshua Trent Brown is doing his own thing here, too, with this story about a man facing death while reckoning with the versions of himself he left scattered across the years, and the country that shaped him in ways he never asked for.
It’s heavy but it’s also strangely tender — a novel about endings that still manages to honor the small, stubborn ways people keep going.
If you're not reading Malarkey, what are you even reading?!
Review of advance copy received from Author
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I keep coming back to the voice, its rare, clean confidence. The funny thing about “easy” reading is that it usually means someone worked like a maniac to make it look effortless, and this book is a pretty flawless example of that.
I liked how Brown uses the frame of George dying on a North Carolina riverbank while also slipping the story back into the past. It turns memory into something physical. Each jump feels like another pulse, another reach for air, another attempt to make sense of a whole life before the body gives out. The past scenes arrive the way it does for real people, in flashes and loops and unfinished business. Underneath all of that, the novel is doing something careful and sharp with race and identity, especially through George being Choctaw and white. Brown doesn't treat heritage like a lesson or a label but shows it as lived experience. It shapes what George can run toward, what he can't outrun, and what costs he pays just to move through the world.
I keep thinking this is the kind of novel to hand to anyone who feels their brain has been trained by endless scrolling to want everything fast and flashy. This book does the opposite. It slows you down, then rewards you for staying. No cheap twist here, just the quiet payoff of genuinely good fiction. Seriously, read this.
I liked how Brown uses the frame of George dying on a North Carolina riverbank while also slipping the story back into the past. It turns memory into something physical. Each jump feels like another pulse, another reach for air, another attempt to make sense of a whole life before the body gives out. The past scenes arrive the way it does for real people, in flashes and loops and unfinished business. Underneath all of that, the novel is doing something careful and sharp with race and identity, especially through George being Choctaw and white. Brown doesn't treat heritage like a lesson or a label but shows it as lived experience. It shapes what George can run toward, what he can't outrun, and what costs he pays just to move through the world.
I keep thinking this is the kind of novel to hand to anyone who feels their brain has been trained by endless scrolling to want everything fast and flashy. This book does the opposite. It slows you down, then rewards you for staying. No cheap twist here, just the quiet payoff of genuinely good fiction. Seriously, read this.
Review of advance copy received from Author
The Walls Are Closing In On Us is an impressive debut that follows George, a now beloved protagonist, from his childhood in Mississippi across the Southeast as he searches for love, friendship, anonymity and a quiet existence.
The novel’s strength lies in revisiting George’s past, slowly revealing how deeply it shapes his present. The ghostly element is especially compelling — less about fear and more about how grief lingers and refuses to let go.
After just a few chapters, I was immediately intrigued by the familiarity and depth of the characters. Without giving too much away; George’s relationship with his mother is tender and layered, while Chito and Koi bring warmth and grounding to his world. Charlotte’s story is heartbreaking, adding emotional weight that lingers long after the final page.
For a debut, it’s a moving and assured exploration of love, loss and the cost of running from the past. Wow.
The novel’s strength lies in revisiting George’s past, slowly revealing how deeply it shapes his present. The ghostly element is especially compelling — less about fear and more about how grief lingers and refuses to let go.
After just a few chapters, I was immediately intrigued by the familiarity and depth of the characters. Without giving too much away; George’s relationship with his mother is tender and layered, while Chito and Koi bring warmth and grounding to his world. Charlotte’s story is heartbreaking, adding emotional weight that lingers long after the final page.
For a debut, it’s a moving and assured exploration of love, loss and the cost of running from the past. Wow.
March 18, 2026
4.5 out of 5.
Hard to believe that this a debut novel. Told in the great tradition of a southern tale, I felt like I was in the able hands of a master. This book has a bit of everything for everyone but doesn’t meander or skip past the tough parts of this story.
Told in thirty-seven short chapters, THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN ON US, is a helluva book. I was reminded of echoes of Denis Johnson when reading this. Brown has anchored his narrative with a strong eye for detail, but he doesn’t keep the story at a standstill when examining deeper character motivations.
This book tackles deep questions and doesn’t always offer up definitive answers but the pleasure is in the journey itself.
Malarkey has put out another banger.
Hard to believe that this a debut novel. Told in the great tradition of a southern tale, I felt like I was in the able hands of a master. This book has a bit of everything for everyone but doesn’t meander or skip past the tough parts of this story.
Told in thirty-seven short chapters, THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN ON US, is a helluva book. I was reminded of echoes of Denis Johnson when reading this. Brown has anchored his narrative with a strong eye for detail, but he doesn’t keep the story at a standstill when examining deeper character motivations.
This book tackles deep questions and doesn’t always offer up definitive answers but the pleasure is in the journey itself.
Malarkey has put out another banger.
March 31, 2026
This novel's great. Really powerful writing and a moving/devastating story that looks thoughtfully and expertly at the American South with a sort of historical honesty I found intriguing. Stylistically, you get bits of McCarthy in there, you get some Denis Johnson. I was also reminded of Demon Copperhead--beyond the whole snake/copperhead theme!--while reading it. One thing that stood out to me was how it grappled with community. During the book, George is constantly rejecting and being rejected by different versions of community, whether it be family, found family and friendships, his tribal/reservation life, nature, and generally the southern prejudice he'd encounter in cities and towns. It's a book that lingers with you!
March 7, 2026
The timeline jumps back and forth so it's easy to get confused were you are in the timeline. Hopefully the chapters will have names after this novel is published (I read an ARC).
Joshua Trent Brown have done a great job in this novel to make the reader to really feel like "the walls are closing in on us".
Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for the e-ARC.
Joshua Trent Brown have done a great job in this novel to make the reader to really feel like "the walls are closing in on us".
Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for the e-ARC.
April 13, 2026
This book is a journey. George might be dying, but he'll live with me for a long time. Brown has imagined a rich and dynamic life, and I couldn't put the book down for wanting to know what George's next chapter would bring. And Brown doesn't back down in the most harrowing parts of this novel—and that's commendable. He's one to follow.
April 23, 2026
What a journey! Trent created an expansive world here, really showed how George straddled two worlds. The jumps between George's reflections of his life, those he'd loved and lost, and his present worked well. I loved the part that gives the book its title. I felt close to George even when he did certain things in order to survive. I felt the walls closing in on me alongside him.
March 9, 2026
This was an ARC and my review is going to be honest. Each chapter definitely needed a subtitle letting you know if you were reading past or present. A couple times, I got confused about where I was in the timeline. At first, I was thinking this book wasn’t for me. I was kinda sad because I love Southern fictions. The first 40% seemed a little boring, but it picked up a great deal after the circus scene. My favorite character was Charlotte, and I do not like what happened to her 😭 Once I really got into the story though, I enjoyed it. It wasn't my favorite read, but by the end I felt connected to George and all he'd been through. It will probably sit with me for awhile too. The quote on the cover does a good job of summing up what the book was about in my opinion.
March 19, 2026
Thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Made me feel all types of emotions. And really pulled at the heart strings throughout. Strongly recommend this piece. A great first novel for Brown! Hoping for many more in the future.
Review of advance copy received from Author
This book is a great read. Once I started, I didn't want to put it down. Every page takes you into a new adventure for the main character and I loved it.
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