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Switzy: A Novel
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A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
Kindle Edition
Expected publication September 8, 2026
About the author
Emma Cline
19 books4,819 followersEmma Cline is an American writer and novelist, originally from California. She published her first novel, "The Girls", in 2016, to positive reviews. The book was shortlisted for the John Leonard Award from the National Book Critics Circle and the Center for Fiction's First Novel Prize.
Her stories have been published in The New Yorker, Tin House, Granta and The Paris Review.
In 2017 Cline was named one of Granta's Best Young American Novelists.
Her stories have been published in The New Yorker, Tin House, Granta and The Paris Review.
In 2017 Cline was named one of Granta's Best Young American Novelists.
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May 1, 2026Emma Cline returning in 2026… oh it’s gonna be a good year... I rarely read about MEN, but I trust her wholeheartedly xx
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June 17, 2026
I wish I could post a review that is just a video of my face and the gamut of expressions it made while reading this.
May 4, 2026
literally scarier than most horror novels!!!!
everyone dreads getting old and the deterioration of our bodies and minds; here, Cline puts us into the mind of someone experiencing this in real time. the writing is chilling and really difficult to read at times because of how visceral it is - we as the reader follow along in David’s mind as he starts forgetting words, numbers, and the shame of needing assistance in everyday tasks. it’s a real gut punch of a book that puts a lot of things into perspective, and it’s not meant to be a very ‘enjoyable’ read, so make sure you’re in the mood for this type of story, but the writing is so impressively immersive that made me full of dread while reading. Yay!
everyone dreads getting old and the deterioration of our bodies and minds; here, Cline puts us into the mind of someone experiencing this in real time. the writing is chilling and really difficult to read at times because of how visceral it is - we as the reader follow along in David’s mind as he starts forgetting words, numbers, and the shame of needing assistance in everyday tasks. it’s a real gut punch of a book that puts a lot of things into perspective, and it’s not meant to be a very ‘enjoyable’ read, so make sure you’re in the mood for this type of story, but the writing is so impressively immersive that made me full of dread while reading. Yay!
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July 28, 2026Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize!!! Review to come.
July 6, 2026
Review to come, but this is one of the saddest and most unassumingly beautiful books I have ever read.
++++
Is there anything more terrifying than leaving a life knowing you not only won't be missed, but won't be known?
Our protagonist, David, is on a journey to revisit old friends and family before his memory completely fails him, and the whole of the book is simply us riding along with him while he remembers, revisits and forgets.
This book is not sad in a "A Little Life" kind of way, in which a character is created, made to be loved by the audience and tortured to break our hearts. This book is sad in a terrifying, deep dark passage of time, slippage of identity, face-to-face with mortality and loss of selfhood, crippling anxiety of being forever unknown kind of way. The saddest part of this book is that our narrator, a man whose identity is being lost to his failing neurons' ability to hold together, finds no one to miss him as he leaves his life. It is precisely because he is unremarkable, unlovable, and deeply flawed in a wholly uninteresting way, that makes this book so crushing to read.
I will say: this is a book to give time to. Not because it's challenging on a sentence level, but because we are on a journey with someone whose memory is falling out from underneath him, and we too will have to reread sentences, go back a page or two once in a while, retrace our steps, be okay with forgetting. I will also say that I highlighted more passages, sat longer with sentences, and felt a deep hollowing out of my whole sense of self more than with any book I can remember reading.
I can't wait for the world to read this book when it comes out in September. A huge thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the advance copy of my new favorite book to read when I want to feel crushed by the weight of mortality and memory.
++++
Is there anything more terrifying than leaving a life knowing you not only won't be missed, but won't be known?
Our protagonist, David, is on a journey to revisit old friends and family before his memory completely fails him, and the whole of the book is simply us riding along with him while he remembers, revisits and forgets.
This book is not sad in a "A Little Life" kind of way, in which a character is created, made to be loved by the audience and tortured to break our hearts. This book is sad in a terrifying, deep dark passage of time, slippage of identity, face-to-face with mortality and loss of selfhood, crippling anxiety of being forever unknown kind of way. The saddest part of this book is that our narrator, a man whose identity is being lost to his failing neurons' ability to hold together, finds no one to miss him as he leaves his life. It is precisely because he is unremarkable, unlovable, and deeply flawed in a wholly uninteresting way, that makes this book so crushing to read.
I will say: this is a book to give time to. Not because it's challenging on a sentence level, but because we are on a journey with someone whose memory is falling out from underneath him, and we too will have to reread sentences, go back a page or two once in a while, retrace our steps, be okay with forgetting. I will also say that I highlighted more passages, sat longer with sentences, and felt a deep hollowing out of my whole sense of self more than with any book I can remember reading.
I can't wait for the world to read this book when it comes out in September. A huge thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the advance copy of my new favorite book to read when I want to feel crushed by the weight of mortality and memory.
July 31, 2026
You’ll be hearing from my therapist, Emma Cline.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
3.5. Only time will tell when it comes to this book—will I remember it next week? In two weeks? A year from now? (Not a reference to the dementia premise but damn if the instinct didn’t come so naturally!! . . .)
Like Katie Kitamura’s AUDITION, SWITZY is a concept novel, a capital-D Dementia Novel. Unlike AUDITION, its concept is a little more submerged. SWITZY is, to my relief, more interested in David-with-Dementia than Demented David. There’s a difference between the two, chiefly that the latter would probably encourage all sorts of formal innovation that doesn’t need to exist in most novels. (Not naming names.) Cline does attempt a little bit of formal wackiness—the paragraphs that whine and wind around lots of empty space—but over time they become hypnotic and worrisome. Am I David? Do I have dementia?
I say this with no trace of irony: I am genuinely not sure.
Cline is one of modern litfic’s greatest observers of people—see GIRLS, GUEST, and so on—but SWITZY often acts as a vehicle for loose remarks about humanity, rather than standing as a cohesive novel. We know David; we feel for David; we fear we may become David. But the idea that a rapidly declining David would be astute enough to gather dozens of piercing adages about people and places and love and loss—it feels far too constructed. SWITZY is at its best when it confronts the looseness of everything, the idea that people come and leave and do not forgive, and thankfully for all of us Clineheads, the novel is pugnacious; it does not fear such confrontation.
Like Katie Kitamura’s AUDITION, SWITZY is a concept novel, a capital-D Dementia Novel. Unlike AUDITION, its concept is a little more submerged. SWITZY is, to my relief, more interested in David-with-Dementia than Demented David. There’s a difference between the two, chiefly that the latter would probably encourage all sorts of formal innovation that doesn’t need to exist in most novels. (Not naming names.) Cline does attempt a little bit of formal wackiness—the paragraphs that whine and wind around lots of empty space—but over time they become hypnotic and worrisome. Am I David? Do I have dementia?
I say this with no trace of irony: I am genuinely not sure.
Cline is one of modern litfic’s greatest observers of people—see GIRLS, GUEST, and so on—but SWITZY often acts as a vehicle for loose remarks about humanity, rather than standing as a cohesive novel. We know David; we feel for David; we fear we may become David. But the idea that a rapidly declining David would be astute enough to gather dozens of piercing adages about people and places and love and loss—it feels far too constructed. SWITZY is at its best when it confronts the looseness of everything, the idea that people come and leave and do not forgive, and thankfully for all of us Clineheads, the novel is pugnacious; it does not fear such confrontation.
May 2, 2026
emma cline is an excellent writer but this was a tough read (complimentary?)
May 3, 2026
Switzy is a masterfully crafted and empathetic portrait of a man in the liminal space of his last days of life. This was a departure for Cline - I suspect there will be some fans of The Girls and the Guest who don’t like this one (where is the messy cool girl? Where is the hint of wish fulfillment? A longtime fan might ask these questions) but this is such a mature, poignant novel that had me holding my breath until its inevitable end, and I was thrilled to see Cline undertake such a story.
In lesser hands, David might have been reduced to a stereotype: the wealthy businessman who regrets not spending enough time with his family, but Cline has such a knack for rendering interior life, and this was her showcasing these talents to a new level. And while I personally love a novel in fragments (and envy the way she pulled it off), the narrative was strongest when showcasing David’s relationships to those around him: the gulf between him and his loved ones, the things left unsaid because of shame, dementia, or both, and the heartbreak of desiring connection but lacking the means to connect. I suspected while reading that my perception of the novel’s success would lie in if she landed the narrative plane, and I believe she did. The ending left me sitting still, contemplating the precariousness of a human life.
In lesser hands, David might have been reduced to a stereotype: the wealthy businessman who regrets not spending enough time with his family, but Cline has such a knack for rendering interior life, and this was her showcasing these talents to a new level. And while I personally love a novel in fragments (and envy the way she pulled it off), the narrative was strongest when showcasing David’s relationships to those around him: the gulf between him and his loved ones, the things left unsaid because of shame, dementia, or both, and the heartbreak of desiring connection but lacking the means to connect. I suspected while reading that my perception of the novel’s success would lie in if she landed the narrative plane, and I believe she did. The ending left me sitting still, contemplating the precariousness of a human life.
July 2, 2026
A really hard but great read about a man who is in cognitive decline and goes to Switzerland to medically end his own life. It’s so different than anything else Cline has written (at least The Girls and The Guest) and I really enjoyed it. It’s so disorienting and hard to be in David’s head - his memory is so slight, and he has mood swings / panics about things that are not relevant or should not be meaningful, but to him they are.
We follow him as he thinks about his boyhood, focusing especially on an intimate and close relationship with a high school roommate, Tom, who he travels to see in the later part of the novel. He visits his daughter and grandson, which was my favorite part of the book - his curiosity and astonishment when he sees a sonny angel for the first time is the funniest thing I have ever read.
David is not fun to be with, I actually think he’s a wealthy POS. But it is almost a comforting experience living out his final days with him.
I’m so glad I got my hands on an ARC of this, I love Cline’s work so so much.
We follow him as he thinks about his boyhood, focusing especially on an intimate and close relationship with a high school roommate, Tom, who he travels to see in the later part of the novel. He visits his daughter and grandson, which was my favorite part of the book - his curiosity and astonishment when he sees a sonny angel for the first time is the funniest thing I have ever read.
David is not fun to be with, I actually think he’s a wealthy POS. But it is almost a comforting experience living out his final days with him.
I’m so glad I got my hands on an ARC of this, I love Cline’s work so so much.
July 31, 2026
took me a while to get into but by the end i felt like i’d been hit by a truck (affectionate)
July 23, 2026
I thought The Guest was essentially pretty alright, but I was far more impressed by this one. It’s extremely complex and well written, and I’m blown away that Cline can write so convincingly from the perspective of an aging, chronically ill businessman who is rapidly losing control of his mental faculties.
Very good portrayal through the prose and sentence structure of fevered, jumbled thinking. You see the main character David losing his short-term memories in real time, becoming confused by his own decisions and experiencing rapid shifts in mood. Fragments of memories come back here and there to help complete the picture of this person and the people he attempts to interact with on the trip, to varied results.
At first, I admittedly struggled to feel sympathy for David, because as vivid and convincing as everything was he also came across as a privileged and unlikable person. I’m thinking this was by design, since a story about a character who is dying is much more complex for the reader if that character is hard to relate to. As I read further, however, I got more of a glimpse into David’s humanity and my opinion softened.
Many reviewers talk about how bleak this book is, and I definitely understand that take. It’s already not an easy collection of subjects, and David’s life turns out to be a lot less sparkling than one would assume. The more I learned about his past, the worse it felt. And he’s barely holding it together. From the beginning of the book to the end, it feels like everything accelerates.
I liked how Cline presented an isolated few days in the life of this person in such a way that I immediately wanted to know more, and she gradually presented new information only as it was necessary, keeping things mysterious as long as possible. (Even now, I still have so many questions about Cody. Such a fascinating character and absolutely the MVP of this novel.)
There were many themes explored here as well, but to go into them would give too much away. David turned out to be, in my opinion, a deeply unhappy and tragic person and Cline echoed parts of his life in the people within his orbit very skillfully. I highly recommend this read to anyone who enjoys good literary fiction but is prepared for very heavy and somber subject matter.
Was the final sentence of this book a reference to the cover image of “The Guest,” or is that just a huge coincidence?
Thank you to Netgalley and to the Publisher for this early copy in exchange for an honest review! All opinions are my own.
4.5 stars.
Biggest TW: Chronic illness, *Suicide, Slurs, Bullying
Very good portrayal through the prose and sentence structure of fevered, jumbled thinking. You see the main character David losing his short-term memories in real time, becoming confused by his own decisions and experiencing rapid shifts in mood. Fragments of memories come back here and there to help complete the picture of this person and the people he attempts to interact with on the trip, to varied results.
At first, I admittedly struggled to feel sympathy for David, because as vivid and convincing as everything was he also came across as a privileged and unlikable person. I’m thinking this was by design, since a story about a character who is dying is much more complex for the reader if that character is hard to relate to. As I read further, however, I got more of a glimpse into David’s humanity and my opinion softened.
Many reviewers talk about how bleak this book is, and I definitely understand that take. It’s already not an easy collection of subjects, and David’s life turns out to be a lot less sparkling than one would assume. The more I learned about his past, the worse it felt. And he’s barely holding it together. From the beginning of the book to the end, it feels like everything accelerates.
I liked how Cline presented an isolated few days in the life of this person in such a way that I immediately wanted to know more, and she gradually presented new information only as it was necessary, keeping things mysterious as long as possible. (Even now, I still have so many questions about Cody. Such a fascinating character and absolutely the MVP of this novel.)
There were many themes explored here as well, but to go into them would give too much away. David turned out to be, in my opinion, a deeply unhappy and tragic person and Cline echoed parts of his life in the people within his orbit very skillfully. I highly recommend this read to anyone who enjoys good literary fiction but is prepared for very heavy and somber subject matter.
Was the final sentence of this book a reference to the cover image of “The Guest,” or is that just a huge coincidence?
Thank you to Netgalley and to the Publisher for this early copy in exchange for an honest review! All opinions are my own.
4.5 stars.
Biggest TW: Chronic illness, *Suicide, Slurs, Bullying
Currently Reading
July 28, 2026LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE Shortlist will be announced on September 22.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
What a rough reading experience. I felt like I was grimacing the entire time. Gosh. Really quite depressing.
I can’t stop thinking about this novel. I didn’t love the writing style, but it really is just sticking with me too much to not rate it at least a 4.
Thank you Netgalley and Random House for the arc!
I can’t stop thinking about this novel. I didn’t love the writing style, but it really is just sticking with me too much to not rate it at least a 4.
Thank you Netgalley and Random House for the arc!
June 10, 2026
I’d like to think I’d be interested in more than bodily functions and wrapping up a few loose ends when it’s time for me to die, but it’s hard to say. Switzy is a dark compelling account of the last few days on earth for David, who is on his way to Switzerland for assisted suicide. It is ambitious and, for me, completely unexpected from Emma Cline.
Switzy takes us into the mind of a person who is quickly losing his sense of consciousness (at least of the present) as he bungles his way toward death. “Old Town: pretty much what his brain was these days. A place where the past was ascendant. It was more interesting, more alive. His actual self was just a tourist in his old life at this point, the present moment pressed into service only as a portal to the past.”
Although no one probably expected her new book to be about an aging, rich retired hedge fund guy, it is still recognizably Cline. There is the closely observed cynicism about wealth (the novel opens on a private jet), a mysterious narrator (we slowly get an incomplete backstory about David), who is highly motivated (although there is plenty of too to speculate why).
Everything about Cline’s writing feels intentional, and one of her best choices was how she depicts David’s relationship with Cody who, despite being a former junior trader for David, has become his confidant and caretaker. Cline plays for their dynamic laughs because David just does not seem to give a fuck about Cody, ever. But that relationship also reveals how self-centered and cruel David must have been more than the brief glimpses we get into his relationship with his daughter and friends.
I thought this was her best and most interesting novel so far. It is also her most literary work. I think she’s the best stylist writing today and she’s added a bit more of James Joyce inspired tools to her repertoire than I’ve detected before—both in terms of pacing and allusions, like this one:
My phone?
Pat, pat. David performed the Sign of the Cross:
In the name of the coat pocket, the coat pocket, and the pants pockets. Amen.
Nothing.
David spends the entire novel trying to place a value on his life and doesn’t seem to find much more in it.
Switzy takes us into the mind of a person who is quickly losing his sense of consciousness (at least of the present) as he bungles his way toward death. “Old Town: pretty much what his brain was these days. A place where the past was ascendant. It was more interesting, more alive. His actual self was just a tourist in his old life at this point, the present moment pressed into service only as a portal to the past.”
Although no one probably expected her new book to be about an aging, rich retired hedge fund guy, it is still recognizably Cline. There is the closely observed cynicism about wealth (the novel opens on a private jet), a mysterious narrator (we slowly get an incomplete backstory about David), who is highly motivated (although there is plenty of too to speculate why).
Everything about Cline’s writing feels intentional, and one of her best choices was how she depicts David’s relationship with Cody who, despite being a former junior trader for David, has become his confidant and caretaker. Cline plays for their dynamic laughs because David just does not seem to give a fuck about Cody, ever. But that relationship also reveals how self-centered and cruel David must have been more than the brief glimpses we get into his relationship with his daughter and friends.
I thought this was her best and most interesting novel so far. It is also her most literary work. I think she’s the best stylist writing today and she’s added a bit more of James Joyce inspired tools to her repertoire than I’ve detected before—both in terms of pacing and allusions, like this one:
My phone?
Pat, pat. David performed the Sign of the Cross:
In the name of the coat pocket, the coat pocket, and the pants pockets. Amen.
Nothing.
David spends the entire novel trying to place a value on his life and doesn’t seem to find much more in it.
July 31, 2026
My day job used to be working with older people experiencing cognitive decline, and a man once said to me “I feel like I’m disappearing.”
That’s a memory which came to me whilst reading this book.
Anyway, this was heartbreaking. I loved it. A billion stars.
Thank you to NetGalley for a preview copy of this book.
That’s a memory which came to me whilst reading this book.
Anyway, this was heartbreaking. I loved it. A billion stars.
Thank you to NetGalley for a preview copy of this book.
June 15, 2026
So much humour, but underneath, real sadness. I was incredibly moved by the final chapters.
July 21, 2026
DNF at 44%. I feel really bad for DNFing an ARC but I was just really struggling with this.
Full review below -
Publication date 8th September 2026. Many thanks to NetGalley, Emma Cline, Random House UK, Vintage, and Chatto and Windus for the ARC of Switzy. Unfortunately, for me this was a DNF at 44% but I think that may have been a me problem rather than a problem with the book.
I feel really bad DNFing an ARC but I was just really struggling with this. I found it hard to pick up and to get through the pages. However, I think this may be down to the fact that I recently lost my Nan to Dementia/Alzheimer’s and I think this perhaps brought up some emotions I hadn’t quite expected it to. This isn’t to say that I won’t pick this up again in the future so I view this as a very soft DNF. I also struggled with the lack of speech marks, something that annoys me frequently. Overall, this feels like quite an uncomfortable and emotional novel but is excellently written and thought-provoking.
Full review below -
Publication date 8th September 2026. Many thanks to NetGalley, Emma Cline, Random House UK, Vintage, and Chatto and Windus for the ARC of Switzy. Unfortunately, for me this was a DNF at 44% but I think that may have been a me problem rather than a problem with the book.
I feel really bad DNFing an ARC but I was just really struggling with this. I found it hard to pick up and to get through the pages. However, I think this may be down to the fact that I recently lost my Nan to Dementia/Alzheimer’s and I think this perhaps brought up some emotions I hadn’t quite expected it to. This isn’t to say that I won’t pick this up again in the future so I view this as a very soft DNF. I also struggled with the lack of speech marks, something that annoys me frequently. Overall, this feels like quite an uncomfortable and emotional novel but is excellently written and thought-provoking.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
Switzy by Emma Cline is a great choice by the Booker judges, a sympathetic and literary portrayal of Alzheimer’s and of assisted dying.
It would appear premature, if done correctly. He returned to this in moments of hesitation. That this was the only way to sidestep the body's authority - exit while the good things were still in reach. A fair number of good things.
And exit while his body was still mostly onboard. When the issue was mostly that his brain shook information like dice in a little leather cup and then let the dice loose in a jumble on the green felt and it was sometimes not a very fun game!
Leave the party right when you think, I'm having such a nice time at this party.
Business advice: a successful negotiation meant both par-ties should come away unsatisfied, both parties should feel a little bit cheated, should feel that they had given up something important.
The novel is told from the close third-person perspective of David Hastings, a recently retired Executive, ex-CFO of an American firm, forced to step back from his duties as the symptoms which were to be the first sign of his condition (it wasn’t technically early-onset) started to impair his previously forensic financial skills and his ability to perform his role.
As the novel opens he is on a (I’m told by those who know, accurately described) private plane, courtesy of his former boss, flying to Switzerland where he plans to end his life in a physician-assisted dying clinic, an action he is keen to take (as per the quote above) before he deteriorates further.
The novel’s title incidentally comes from a nickname he and his former boss use for Switzerland - one I can’t say I’ve heard before (Swissy is a more common term, particularly in financial markets for the CHF currency).
En route to Zurich, he has a planned stop in London to visit his daughter, for what he but not she knows is a farewell, one also taking in a visit to the Wallace Collection that he and his former wife visited on their honeymoon in the city.
And in Zurich he has a planned trip over the border to France to visit a former school friend, although one who seems bemused as to why he wants to meet up - but a visit that owes its origins to what is a common theme on this longlist.
He also visits an antiquarian book shop and buys a rare US first edition of Jules Verne’s Twenty Leagues Under the Seas (or rather ‘the Sea’ as printed on that edition, one of a number of errors). He intends this as a present for his 9yo grandson in London, but forgets and attempts instead to give it to his own former school friend.
This confusion is a key feature of the novel, as much of the planned trip and what happens is clearer to the reader than to David, whose condition means he is increasingly bewildered by every day life, and he is necessarily accompanied on his journey by a younger man acting as his assistant and helper.
He now moves through a world doubly strange to him (strange, strangeness or stranger appears 62 times in the text) - both confusing due to his Alzheimer’s and more modern that the business culture he is used to.
These dress shirts that had been measured and cut to his body, neckties that had once communicated some urgent quality of self to others. How much more formal everything used to be. It was one of those things that no longer mattered.
Other things that used to matter: handshakes, business dinners, name recall, a specific flavor of obeisance to one’s superiors, follow-up phone calls, meeting someone face-to-face. A well-ironed shirt. A glass of Calvados with dessert, a small swallow of fire. A commuter train that ran along the pewter river, voices from other seats floating above you. Ordinary boredom. The Sunday roasts of childhood, the meat pinkened and wet. Stiff clothes meant only for church.
If anything the traditional comforts of Europe, old-fashioned hotels and restaurants, a London club, provide him a sense of reassurance:
Polished wood for the banister, the steps carpeted with a deep-burgundy runner. A tiered chandelier loomed two stories up the square atrium, icy with crystal. Gilt and dark colors, heavy wood, the European version of fancy. Burgundy and forest green and navy, colors that were formal and staid and spoke of the past. Europe basically looked like an upscale steak house. Or the other way around.
And he also finds anchorage in memories of the Sound of Music, Nemo the Slumberer, a line from White Christmas (although he cannot place the film) and Mahler’s 9th Farewell Symphony, inadvertently introduced to him by his grandson.
The narration, slightly offbeat, captures the sense of his own dislocation well e.g. when he is required to write a letter in his own hand, explaining his wishes, as part of the procedures and safeguards around his chosen fate:
And maybe it made sense that this task proved so difficult, that the attempt to write the letter only underscored the necessity of the letter: things really had become unmanage-able. Other words for it: unbearable; meaning-less.
Disconcerting, this mental ice floe, populated only by David, floating off into the polar darkness. He was some-times a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.
The ice floe-he had tried to write about that. In the letter.
In his strange new child's handwriting, these fat, scratched-out blocks.
The ice floe. The white room in the brain. How he knew when he was smiling and it was an error.
This dark hour, this loneliness.
Fear which lacked a shape. A dark, crumpled coat thrown carelessly into the corner of an unfamiliar room.
The invisible spheres were formed in fright.
This line remained intact. He wrote it down, to feel the certainty of each word, the correctness of the phrase. At least a few things were whole, there at hand. Like the quick brown fox. Like the lines of the paper. Invisible spheres-he had more to say, but he got stuck on this. Invisible spheres, formed in fright. Invisible, indivisible this is when he abandoned the letter altogether.
A strong shortlist contender.
Switzy by Emma Cline is a great choice by the Booker judges, a sympathetic and literary portrayal of Alzheimer’s and of assisted dying.
It would appear premature, if done correctly. He returned to this in moments of hesitation. That this was the only way to sidestep the body's authority - exit while the good things were still in reach. A fair number of good things.
And exit while his body was still mostly onboard. When the issue was mostly that his brain shook information like dice in a little leather cup and then let the dice loose in a jumble on the green felt and it was sometimes not a very fun game!
Leave the party right when you think, I'm having such a nice time at this party.
Business advice: a successful negotiation meant both par-ties should come away unsatisfied, both parties should feel a little bit cheated, should feel that they had given up something important.
The novel is told from the close third-person perspective of David Hastings, a recently retired Executive, ex-CFO of an American firm, forced to step back from his duties as the symptoms which were to be the first sign of his condition (it wasn’t technically early-onset) started to impair his previously forensic financial skills and his ability to perform his role.
As the novel opens he is on a (I’m told by those who know, accurately described) private plane, courtesy of his former boss, flying to Switzerland where he plans to end his life in a physician-assisted dying clinic, an action he is keen to take (as per the quote above) before he deteriorates further.
The novel’s title incidentally comes from a nickname he and his former boss use for Switzerland - one I can’t say I’ve heard before (Swissy is a more common term, particularly in financial markets for the CHF currency).
En route to Zurich, he has a planned stop in London to visit his daughter, for what he but not she knows is a farewell, one also taking in a visit to the Wallace Collection that he and his former wife visited on their honeymoon in the city.
And in Zurich he has a planned trip over the border to France to visit a former school friend, although one who seems bemused as to why he wants to meet up - but a visit that owes its origins to what is a common theme on this longlist.
He also visits an antiquarian book shop and buys a rare US first edition of Jules Verne’s Twenty Leagues Under the Seas (or rather ‘the Sea’ as printed on that edition, one of a number of errors). He intends this as a present for his 9yo grandson in London, but forgets and attempts instead to give it to his own former school friend.
This confusion is a key feature of the novel, as much of the planned trip and what happens is clearer to the reader than to David, whose condition means he is increasingly bewildered by every day life, and he is necessarily accompanied on his journey by a younger man acting as his assistant and helper.
He now moves through a world doubly strange to him (strange, strangeness or stranger appears 62 times in the text) - both confusing due to his Alzheimer’s and more modern that the business culture he is used to.
These dress shirts that had been measured and cut to his body, neckties that had once communicated some urgent quality of self to others. How much more formal everything used to be. It was one of those things that no longer mattered.
Other things that used to matter: handshakes, business dinners, name recall, a specific flavor of obeisance to one’s superiors, follow-up phone calls, meeting someone face-to-face. A well-ironed shirt. A glass of Calvados with dessert, a small swallow of fire. A commuter train that ran along the pewter river, voices from other seats floating above you. Ordinary boredom. The Sunday roasts of childhood, the meat pinkened and wet. Stiff clothes meant only for church.
If anything the traditional comforts of Europe, old-fashioned hotels and restaurants, a London club, provide him a sense of reassurance:
Polished wood for the banister, the steps carpeted with a deep-burgundy runner. A tiered chandelier loomed two stories up the square atrium, icy with crystal. Gilt and dark colors, heavy wood, the European version of fancy. Burgundy and forest green and navy, colors that were formal and staid and spoke of the past. Europe basically looked like an upscale steak house. Or the other way around.
And he also finds anchorage in memories of the Sound of Music, Nemo the Slumberer, a line from White Christmas (although he cannot place the film) and Mahler’s 9th Farewell Symphony, inadvertently introduced to him by his grandson.
The narration, slightly offbeat, captures the sense of his own dislocation well e.g. when he is required to write a letter in his own hand, explaining his wishes, as part of the procedures and safeguards around his chosen fate:
And maybe it made sense that this task proved so difficult, that the attempt to write the letter only underscored the necessity of the letter: things really had become unmanage-able. Other words for it: unbearable; meaning-less.
Disconcerting, this mental ice floe, populated only by David, floating off into the polar darkness. He was some-times a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.
The ice floe-he had tried to write about that. In the letter.
In his strange new child's handwriting, these fat, scratched-out blocks.
The ice floe. The white room in the brain. How he knew when he was smiling and it was an error.
This dark hour, this loneliness.
Fear which lacked a shape. A dark, crumpled coat thrown carelessly into the corner of an unfamiliar room.
The invisible spheres were formed in fright.
This line remained intact. He wrote it down, to feel the certainty of each word, the correctness of the phrase. At least a few things were whole, there at hand. Like the quick brown fox. Like the lines of the paper. Invisible spheres-he had more to say, but he got stuck on this. Invisible spheres, formed in fright. Invisible, indivisible this is when he abandoned the letter altogether.
A strong shortlist contender.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
BOOK REPORT
Received a complimentary copy of Switzy, by Emma Cline, from Random House/NetGalley, for which I am appreciative, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Scroll past the BOOK REPORT section for a cut-and-paste of the DESCRIPTION of it from them if you want to read my thoughts on the book in the context of that summary.
⭐ 5 ⭐
Holy My God, y’all.
I feel like I just lived somebody else’s life and died.
And that’s hours after coming out of the fever dream that was this book.
To say that it was deeply moving and profoundly unsettling kinda seems like understatement….
I was both literally and figuratively chilled by this reading experience. Had to go sit in my big yellow comfort chair with a throw over my lap/legs and stare blankly for about 30 minutes after finishing.
Would I have had the same visceral reaction to it were I but 30 years old and not 60?
I think not……
OK, a few points of merit. First, I actually remembered to go look up Emma Cline in my reading history before getting this ARC. All I have read of hers before today** was The Guest in 2023, and I hated it and gave it 2 stars. But I decided the premise of this book was interesting enough that I would give her another try, and boy howdy am I glad I did.
Second, and this is why I asterisked the word today, I actually started Switzy late yesterday afternoon, and was so blown away by the first chapter that I decided that it needed to be a book I read in one sitting. So I put it down until I was done with farm chores and the like this morning, and restarted it.
And Could. Not. Put. It. Down.
Third, I would strongly encourage anyone considering reading this book to first read The Appointment in Samarra as retold by W. Somerset Maugham (man what a name) if they have not already. Here’s a link to a PDF that contains it: https://www.emmanuelacc.net/sundayrou...
I don’t think I’ll be able to quit thinking/talking about this one for a while.
A PS A FEW DAYS LATER
Was doing a little camera clean-up at the computer this morning (instead of sitting outside reading, as I’d planned, because it is hot and rainy and gross, ugh), and came across screenshots I’d saved of the first parts of various real reviews of this book.
Meant to include links to them initially but forget.
- A.: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Adrian: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Books By Your Bedside: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Baker: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
DESCRIPTION
A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David knows: Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes in: the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
Received a complimentary copy of Switzy, by Emma Cline, from Random House/NetGalley, for which I am appreciative, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Scroll past the BOOK REPORT section for a cut-and-paste of the DESCRIPTION of it from them if you want to read my thoughts on the book in the context of that summary.
⭐ 5 ⭐
Holy My God, y’all.
I feel like I just lived somebody else’s life and died.
And that’s hours after coming out of the fever dream that was this book.
To say that it was deeply moving and profoundly unsettling kinda seems like understatement….
I was both literally and figuratively chilled by this reading experience. Had to go sit in my big yellow comfort chair with a throw over my lap/legs and stare blankly for about 30 minutes after finishing.
Would I have had the same visceral reaction to it were I but 30 years old and not 60?
I think not……
OK, a few points of merit. First, I actually remembered to go look up Emma Cline in my reading history before getting this ARC. All I have read of hers before today** was The Guest in 2023, and I hated it and gave it 2 stars. But I decided the premise of this book was interesting enough that I would give her another try, and boy howdy am I glad I did.
Second, and this is why I asterisked the word today, I actually started Switzy late yesterday afternoon, and was so blown away by the first chapter that I decided that it needed to be a book I read in one sitting. So I put it down until I was done with farm chores and the like this morning, and restarted it.
And Could. Not. Put. It. Down.
Third, I would strongly encourage anyone considering reading this book to first read The Appointment in Samarra as retold by W. Somerset Maugham (man what a name) if they have not already. Here’s a link to a PDF that contains it: https://www.emmanuelacc.net/sundayrou...
I don’t think I’ll be able to quit thinking/talking about this one for a while.
A PS A FEW DAYS LATER
Was doing a little camera clean-up at the computer this morning (instead of sitting outside reading, as I’d planned, because it is hot and rainy and gross, ugh), and came across screenshots I’d saved of the first parts of various real reviews of this book.
Meant to include links to them initially but forget.
- A.: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Adrian: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Books By Your Bedside: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
- Baker: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
DESCRIPTION
A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David knows: Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes in: the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I don't remember a lot of the books I read 10 years ago, especially in detail, but Emma Cline's The Girls is one that I remember vividly and think about often. I was so excited to receive an ARC for her newest book (despite the difficult subject matter), and I am so glad I'm able to say that it lived up to every expectation I had.
Switzy is one of those rare books that you finish and then immediately want to reread just to view it through a different lens. I don't even know how she did it, but Emma Cline has written something incredibly intimate, devastating, and undeniably brilliant. It is so different from her other books, and it's so unlike anything else I have ever read. Rather than simply telling the story of a man nearing the end of his life and in the throes of progressive dementia, she places you inside his unraveling consciousness, allowing you to experience his confusion, fear, fleeting moments of clarity, and the relentless slipping away of memory alongside him. I don't think, unless you've experienced the reality of someone with dementia or Alzheimer's intimately, you'll be able to fully grasp how accurate this book truly is, but as someone who has experienced that reality intimately, I can only describe it as incredibly heartbreaking but so unbelievably well done.
David is not an easy character to love at all. He's privileged, emotionally distant, and deeply flawed, but that's exactly what makes this novel so impossible to put down. As fragments of his past surface alongside the deterioration of his present, you slowly begin to understand the man behind the accomplishments, regrets, and carefully maintained image. By the end, I found myself feeling far more empathy for him than I ever expected. The brief moments of lucidity where you knew he was dealing with so much regret but his life had reached the point where there wasn't any more time for him to change things were devastating.
The prose deserves special recognition because it's doing so much more than telling a story. At first, the language can feel fragmented, repetitive, and almost disorienting. Conversations blur together, thoughts drift unexpectedly, and memories interrupt the present without warning. It would be easy to mistake this as a stylistic quirk, but it's actually one of the novel's greatest strengths. Cline's writing mirrors David's deteriorating mind so perfectly that the reading experience itself becomes immersive. The choppiness isn't a flaw... it's the point. You're meant to feel unsteady because David feels unsteady. It's outstanding in the most depressing way.
This is not an action-driven novel. It's a deeply introspective meditation on memory, identity, mortality, regret, and what remains of a person when the mind begins to betray them. The emotional weight builds gradually, and by the final chapters, it lands with remarkable force. I do think this book will be an especially difficult read for anyone who has watched a loved one live with dementia or Alzheimer's disease. The portrayal feels painfully authentic, not at all sensationalized, and heartbreakingly real. The confusion, the frustration, the brief flashes of recognition, and the quiet loss of independence are handled with incredible compassion. At times it was genuinely uncomfortable to read, not because it was graphic, but because it felt so real.
This is one of the most memorable literary novels I've read in quite some time. It's thoughtful, haunting, emotionally rich, and beautifully executed. Emma Cline has crafted a novel that isn't always easy to read, it's not supposed to be, but it's one that's absolutely worth experiencing.
The biggest thank you to Random House, NetGalley, and Emma Cline for this eARC in exchange for my honest review. This was incredible.
Switzy is one of those rare books that you finish and then immediately want to reread just to view it through a different lens. I don't even know how she did it, but Emma Cline has written something incredibly intimate, devastating, and undeniably brilliant. It is so different from her other books, and it's so unlike anything else I have ever read. Rather than simply telling the story of a man nearing the end of his life and in the throes of progressive dementia, she places you inside his unraveling consciousness, allowing you to experience his confusion, fear, fleeting moments of clarity, and the relentless slipping away of memory alongside him. I don't think, unless you've experienced the reality of someone with dementia or Alzheimer's intimately, you'll be able to fully grasp how accurate this book truly is, but as someone who has experienced that reality intimately, I can only describe it as incredibly heartbreaking but so unbelievably well done.
David is not an easy character to love at all. He's privileged, emotionally distant, and deeply flawed, but that's exactly what makes this novel so impossible to put down. As fragments of his past surface alongside the deterioration of his present, you slowly begin to understand the man behind the accomplishments, regrets, and carefully maintained image. By the end, I found myself feeling far more empathy for him than I ever expected. The brief moments of lucidity where you knew he was dealing with so much regret but his life had reached the point where there wasn't any more time for him to change things were devastating.
The prose deserves special recognition because it's doing so much more than telling a story. At first, the language can feel fragmented, repetitive, and almost disorienting. Conversations blur together, thoughts drift unexpectedly, and memories interrupt the present without warning. It would be easy to mistake this as a stylistic quirk, but it's actually one of the novel's greatest strengths. Cline's writing mirrors David's deteriorating mind so perfectly that the reading experience itself becomes immersive. The choppiness isn't a flaw... it's the point. You're meant to feel unsteady because David feels unsteady. It's outstanding in the most depressing way.
This is not an action-driven novel. It's a deeply introspective meditation on memory, identity, mortality, regret, and what remains of a person when the mind begins to betray them. The emotional weight builds gradually, and by the final chapters, it lands with remarkable force. I do think this book will be an especially difficult read for anyone who has watched a loved one live with dementia or Alzheimer's disease. The portrayal feels painfully authentic, not at all sensationalized, and heartbreakingly real. The confusion, the frustration, the brief flashes of recognition, and the quiet loss of independence are handled with incredible compassion. At times it was genuinely uncomfortable to read, not because it was graphic, but because it felt so real.
This is one of the most memorable literary novels I've read in quite some time. It's thoughtful, haunting, emotionally rich, and beautifully executed. Emma Cline has crafted a novel that isn't always easy to read, it's not supposed to be, but it's one that's absolutely worth experiencing.
The biggest thank you to Random House, NetGalley, and Emma Cline for this eARC in exchange for my honest review. This was incredible.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A compelling, humane achievement that succeeds in overcoming what might be a grim story into something almost triumphant.
David Hastings, an aging, semi-retired business executive, is playing solitaire on his phone aboard a luxuriously appointed private plane. He is bound for London, where he will have dinner with his daughter whom he has not seen in years, and then proceed toward Zurich for an appointment that had required complicated planning, many phone calls and documents. David is accompanied by Cody, often referred to as “the boy.” David muses, pokes around in some murky memories, asks himself questions he can’t always answer. Cody doles out medication at bedtime, offering a selection of anti-anxiety and soporific pills. It is clear that something is wrong with David. Scraps of song float through his mind; he fills in awkward pauses in conversation with innocuous remarks. And then there comes a sharp question: “The budget is off by nearly eight figures. Can you explain this, David?” Something has gone very wrong indeed.
We learn that David’s trip to Zurich is to purposefully, gently, and professionally end his life, wracked by progressive dementia.
We follow David through the ensuing few days, as he is shepherded by Cody through airports, elegant old-world hotels, restaurant meals, and changes of clothes. Cody is endlessly patient, obliging, careful, and nearly colorless. In fact, David barely acknowledges him as a human being. A mightily capable young man, who handles every wrinkle, every delay, every confusion, who is in fact in charge of everything every day, who is just “the boy.” Ask the boy. The boy will know. It becomes apparent, through the smoke and mirrors of David’s own failing perceptions and memories, that David Hastings was not ever a very nice man. Not to his family, and certainly not to a once-dear “friend of his youth.”
Cline observes, creates, and magnificently describes a mind ruined by dementia, telling David’s own story through that mind. I would love to know if she has had a close family member fall into the abyss of dementia. I have, and Cline portrays the frustrated fumbling, the vagueness with sudden flashes of reality popping up now and then; the hostility, the accusations, the incomprehension with heartbreaking accuracy. Tiny details noted by David’s wandering eye recur in artful and poignant moments. And through it all, David always knows what lies ahead, what is going to happen. He has moments of clarity and regret, but little fear. It’s almost a shrug: you get what you get. And that’s it. When he meets his daughter in London, we realize with a start that he hasn’t even told her what he is going to do.
Cline escorts us all the way, to the very end. To the last thought, the last sip and swallow, with “the boy” sitting at his bedside because there is no one else. But it is calm, it is dignified. I was reminded of Amy Bloom’s powerful memoir In Love: A Memoir of Love and Loss, in which she describes her husband’s journey to the same end for the same reasons. I hope anyone who chooses to go down this road can have it conclude in such a quiet, deliberate, and beautiful way, as it does in Cline’s hands.
David Hastings, an aging, semi-retired business executive, is playing solitaire on his phone aboard a luxuriously appointed private plane. He is bound for London, where he will have dinner with his daughter whom he has not seen in years, and then proceed toward Zurich for an appointment that had required complicated planning, many phone calls and documents. David is accompanied by Cody, often referred to as “the boy.” David muses, pokes around in some murky memories, asks himself questions he can’t always answer. Cody doles out medication at bedtime, offering a selection of anti-anxiety and soporific pills. It is clear that something is wrong with David. Scraps of song float through his mind; he fills in awkward pauses in conversation with innocuous remarks. And then there comes a sharp question: “The budget is off by nearly eight figures. Can you explain this, David?” Something has gone very wrong indeed.
We learn that David’s trip to Zurich is to purposefully, gently, and professionally end his life, wracked by progressive dementia.
We follow David through the ensuing few days, as he is shepherded by Cody through airports, elegant old-world hotels, restaurant meals, and changes of clothes. Cody is endlessly patient, obliging, careful, and nearly colorless. In fact, David barely acknowledges him as a human being. A mightily capable young man, who handles every wrinkle, every delay, every confusion, who is in fact in charge of everything every day, who is just “the boy.” Ask the boy. The boy will know. It becomes apparent, through the smoke and mirrors of David’s own failing perceptions and memories, that David Hastings was not ever a very nice man. Not to his family, and certainly not to a once-dear “friend of his youth.”
Cline observes, creates, and magnificently describes a mind ruined by dementia, telling David’s own story through that mind. I would love to know if she has had a close family member fall into the abyss of dementia. I have, and Cline portrays the frustrated fumbling, the vagueness with sudden flashes of reality popping up now and then; the hostility, the accusations, the incomprehension with heartbreaking accuracy. Tiny details noted by David’s wandering eye recur in artful and poignant moments. And through it all, David always knows what lies ahead, what is going to happen. He has moments of clarity and regret, but little fear. It’s almost a shrug: you get what you get. And that’s it. When he meets his daughter in London, we realize with a start that he hasn’t even told her what he is going to do.
Cline escorts us all the way, to the very end. To the last thought, the last sip and swallow, with “the boy” sitting at his bedside because there is no one else. But it is calm, it is dignified. I was reminded of Amy Bloom’s powerful memoir In Love: A Memoir of Love and Loss, in which she describes her husband’s journey to the same end for the same reasons. I hope anyone who chooses to go down this road can have it conclude in such a quiet, deliberate, and beautiful way, as it does in Cline’s hands.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thanks to Random House (Madison Dettlinger) and NetGalley for the egalley of Switzy.
My, my, that was quite a novel. Switzy took me places that, as I stumble through my seventh decade on this planet, I try to not think about too much. Long gone is my youthful sense of invincibility (jump off of what?), and my fantastical belief that somehow Death will keep forgetting to tick the checkbox next to my name. Yet I don't like to dwell on the inevitable end because it adds nothing to what remains of my life. I've made the necessary preparations, now let's move on.
But Switzy made me contemplate something I fear probably even more than death: dementia. Through really strong and at times very insightful writing, Emma Cline presents an individual disappearing before our eyes. It's a testament to the power of Cline's writing that readers can feel the disappearance through their own reading experience. It's almost as if part of you, your mind, knows that this is what it will feel like to lose forever elements of your self, that this is what the struggle will be like to remember even how to tie your shoes. Switzy, for me, became an exploration of how we define ourselves as individuals, how much we ascribe of ourselves, wrongly, to our body, the clothes we wear, the positions we hold. In the end, our true "self" is contained in our miraculous brains, which, as the character of David Hastings demonstrates, can be destroyed, leaving only a shell.
Frightening, really. But Hastings has found a way out, sort of. And this was another element of Switzy that I found compelling. While I personally believe that what Hastings chooses to do in the face of his dementia is correct (it's his choice, his life), I couldn't help but feel a little resentful at the fact that he could afford to take the path he chose. While I empathize with Hastings, the smell of privilege was off-putting. Private jets, first class hotels, chauffeured cars, a personal attendant: an end with style. As families struggle emotionally and financially to deal with family members afflicted with dementia, the thought that some individuals can choose an alternative, but expensive, option demonstrates the inequities in our world. And perhaps this is one of Cline's themes: that privilege and wealth can help an individual avoid the horrors that some of us might have to face. A sobering thought.
Switzy is a truly thought-provoking novel. I can't say that I "enjoyed" the novel because I don't think it's possible with the subject matter Cline is working with. I appreciated the direct, rather unemotional writing. The stripping away of superfluous details settles us into what remains of Hastings' mind, his self. His attempts to make amends with his daughter and his old friend are poignant not only because of the difficulty in the moment, but because you can't help but wonder why he waited so long. All very well done on Cline's part. The entire novel just has this sad energy that is encapsulated from a line in the book about life being composed of many opportunities, many errors. And you see that played out in Hastings' memories.
Unsettling, but a worthy read.
My, my, that was quite a novel. Switzy took me places that, as I stumble through my seventh decade on this planet, I try to not think about too much. Long gone is my youthful sense of invincibility (jump off of what?), and my fantastical belief that somehow Death will keep forgetting to tick the checkbox next to my name. Yet I don't like to dwell on the inevitable end because it adds nothing to what remains of my life. I've made the necessary preparations, now let's move on.
But Switzy made me contemplate something I fear probably even more than death: dementia. Through really strong and at times very insightful writing, Emma Cline presents an individual disappearing before our eyes. It's a testament to the power of Cline's writing that readers can feel the disappearance through their own reading experience. It's almost as if part of you, your mind, knows that this is what it will feel like to lose forever elements of your self, that this is what the struggle will be like to remember even how to tie your shoes. Switzy, for me, became an exploration of how we define ourselves as individuals, how much we ascribe of ourselves, wrongly, to our body, the clothes we wear, the positions we hold. In the end, our true "self" is contained in our miraculous brains, which, as the character of David Hastings demonstrates, can be destroyed, leaving only a shell.
Frightening, really. But Hastings has found a way out, sort of. And this was another element of Switzy that I found compelling. While I personally believe that what Hastings chooses to do in the face of his dementia is correct (it's his choice, his life), I couldn't help but feel a little resentful at the fact that he could afford to take the path he chose. While I empathize with Hastings, the smell of privilege was off-putting. Private jets, first class hotels, chauffeured cars, a personal attendant: an end with style. As families struggle emotionally and financially to deal with family members afflicted with dementia, the thought that some individuals can choose an alternative, but expensive, option demonstrates the inequities in our world. And perhaps this is one of Cline's themes: that privilege and wealth can help an individual avoid the horrors that some of us might have to face. A sobering thought.
Switzy is a truly thought-provoking novel. I can't say that I "enjoyed" the novel because I don't think it's possible with the subject matter Cline is working with. I appreciated the direct, rather unemotional writing. The stripping away of superfluous details settles us into what remains of Hastings' mind, his self. His attempts to make amends with his daughter and his old friend are poignant not only because of the difficulty in the moment, but because you can't help but wonder why he waited so long. All very well done on Cline's part. The entire novel just has this sad energy that is encapsulated from a line in the book about life being composed of many opportunities, many errors. And you see that played out in Hastings' memories.
Unsettling, but a worthy read.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Big thanks to Netgalley for providing an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
A stark departure from what Cline is known for, Switzy brings us on a tumultuous, emotional journey following a man walking towards the end of his life willingly.
David is going to die soon, or at least he hopes he is. That's what he paid for after all. Embarking on his final journey to Switzerland, David will be engaging in medical assistance in death services after wrapping up a few loose ends. Once a powerful executive, he was asked to "part ways" from his former company after his diagnosis of rapid onset dementia rendered him unable to do his work effectively. No longer a husband, barely a father or grandfather, David only has his assistant Cody to keep him company, and to keep him to his itinerary. We join David in his final few days, a brief trip to London to see his daughter and his grandson, a short meeting with a childhood friend who he hasn't spoken to in decades, and then off to the void. Told from his perspective, we watch unflinchingly as he does everything he can to do and say the things he needs to say to the people he cares about while being unable to find just the right words. With Cody by his side, companion or jailer(depends on the day), David is gripped by the unknown, the left undone and unsaid, and the drive to try to correct what can still be corrected.
In my mind, Emma Cline has a very specific narrative style. In general, write about a girl in some level of mess. Messy life, messy decisions, complicated relationships with men, and have her directly face those consequences. So imagine my surprise when this book came across my lap. One following a man who is, yes grappling with a bit of his own mess, but having to face comparatively much heavier realities than the girls in Cline's previous works. I was afraid she couldn't pull it off, but boy did she.
The prose here is difficult. I wouldn't say it is exactly "authentically" written in a way that we might think someone suffering from dementia might write, but it is stilted and inaccessible enough that the intention of the style is made clear. We get to see David forget things in real time, things we know but he no longer does. And we also see him fail to recall information that we will never know. It can be frustrating and awkward and embarrassing, but that is the point.
David is not lovable, he is a complicated character, but you can't help but root for him, for the humanity that he no longer believes he has. And as the end of the book drew near, I couldn't help but have a rising panic, not ready to let this man let go of his life, a life that he may be ready to leave behind, but I wasn't.
This was really well done, and despite me liking Cline's previous works, I was still surprised with how much I enjoyed this.
A stark departure from what Cline is known for, Switzy brings us on a tumultuous, emotional journey following a man walking towards the end of his life willingly.
David is going to die soon, or at least he hopes he is. That's what he paid for after all. Embarking on his final journey to Switzerland, David will be engaging in medical assistance in death services after wrapping up a few loose ends. Once a powerful executive, he was asked to "part ways" from his former company after his diagnosis of rapid onset dementia rendered him unable to do his work effectively. No longer a husband, barely a father or grandfather, David only has his assistant Cody to keep him company, and to keep him to his itinerary. We join David in his final few days, a brief trip to London to see his daughter and his grandson, a short meeting with a childhood friend who he hasn't spoken to in decades, and then off to the void. Told from his perspective, we watch unflinchingly as he does everything he can to do and say the things he needs to say to the people he cares about while being unable to find just the right words. With Cody by his side, companion or jailer(depends on the day), David is gripped by the unknown, the left undone and unsaid, and the drive to try to correct what can still be corrected.
In my mind, Emma Cline has a very specific narrative style. In general, write about a girl in some level of mess. Messy life, messy decisions, complicated relationships with men, and have her directly face those consequences. So imagine my surprise when this book came across my lap. One following a man who is, yes grappling with a bit of his own mess, but having to face comparatively much heavier realities than the girls in Cline's previous works. I was afraid she couldn't pull it off, but boy did she.
The prose here is difficult. I wouldn't say it is exactly "authentically" written in a way that we might think someone suffering from dementia might write, but it is stilted and inaccessible enough that the intention of the style is made clear. We get to see David forget things in real time, things we know but he no longer does. And we also see him fail to recall information that we will never know. It can be frustrating and awkward and embarrassing, but that is the point.
David is not lovable, he is a complicated character, but you can't help but root for him, for the humanity that he no longer believes he has. And as the end of the book drew near, I couldn't help but have a rising panic, not ready to let this man let go of his life, a life that he may be ready to leave behind, but I wasn't.
This was really well done, and despite me liking Cline's previous works, I was still surprised with how much I enjoyed this.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Emma Cline's “Switzy” is an unflinching meditation on dementia, regret, and the final reckoning with a life that feels only partially lived. Although the novel centers on the protagonist's decision to travel to Switzerland for euthanasia, it also functions as an unexpected coming-of-age story, as David is forced to confront many new experiences. Incidentally, I found Cline's title—a lighthearted nickname for Switzerland—to be at odds with the gravity of the novel's subject matter.
David is an exceptional narrator. His rapidly progressing dementia leaves his memories fragmented, interrupted by half-remembered song lyrics and advertising jingles that drift through his consciousness. Cline captures both the confusion and the poignancy of cognitive decline with remarkable precision. As David's memory deteriorates, he becomes increasingly preoccupied with his childhood friendship with Tom, a boy he may have secretly loved but failed to protect from bullying. His carefully orchestrated attempt to apologize offers little of the redemption he seeks, much as his reunion with his estranged daughter and grandson proves emotionally unsatisfying. Through these disappointments, Cline suggests that reconciliation cannot always be manufactured, especially at the end of a life.
David's caregiver, Cody, is equally well realized. He is competent, attentive, and professional, yet emotionally distant. His relationship with David is defined by obligation rather than affection. That transactional bond makes David's final days all the more heartbreaking. Surrounded by wealth throughout his successful career, David discovers too late that status and financial comfort offer little solace compared with genuine intimacy and enduring family relationships.
Although Cline includes occasional moments of humor—usually arising from David's awkwardness in social situations—the dominant mood is one of sadness and quiet disappointment. David's life comes to seem less tragic because of dementia than because of the relationships he neglected or never fully embraced.
Cline's prose is extraordinary. She vividly conveys both the lived experience of dementia and the emotional burden borne by those who care for its victims. Literature has imagined the end of life in many ways: as a painful inventory of missed opportunities, as a mystical threshold between consciousness and oblivion, or as a moment of transcendent gratitude. David's final moments offer none of these consolations. They are almost mundane, and for that very reason, profoundly moving. “Switzy” is a beautifully written, deeply compassionate novel that lingers long after its quiet, devastating conclusion.
David is an exceptional narrator. His rapidly progressing dementia leaves his memories fragmented, interrupted by half-remembered song lyrics and advertising jingles that drift through his consciousness. Cline captures both the confusion and the poignancy of cognitive decline with remarkable precision. As David's memory deteriorates, he becomes increasingly preoccupied with his childhood friendship with Tom, a boy he may have secretly loved but failed to protect from bullying. His carefully orchestrated attempt to apologize offers little of the redemption he seeks, much as his reunion with his estranged daughter and grandson proves emotionally unsatisfying. Through these disappointments, Cline suggests that reconciliation cannot always be manufactured, especially at the end of a life.
David's caregiver, Cody, is equally well realized. He is competent, attentive, and professional, yet emotionally distant. His relationship with David is defined by obligation rather than affection. That transactional bond makes David's final days all the more heartbreaking. Surrounded by wealth throughout his successful career, David discovers too late that status and financial comfort offer little solace compared with genuine intimacy and enduring family relationships.
Although Cline includes occasional moments of humor—usually arising from David's awkwardness in social situations—the dominant mood is one of sadness and quiet disappointment. David's life comes to seem less tragic because of dementia than because of the relationships he neglected or never fully embraced.
Cline's prose is extraordinary. She vividly conveys both the lived experience of dementia and the emotional burden borne by those who care for its victims. Literature has imagined the end of life in many ways: as a painful inventory of missed opportunities, as a mystical threshold between consciousness and oblivion, or as a moment of transcendent gratitude. David's final moments offer none of these consolations. They are almost mundane, and for that very reason, profoundly moving. “Switzy” is a beautifully written, deeply compassionate novel that lingers long after its quiet, devastating conclusion.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Booker Longlisted 2026!
'Someone had told him once: You should always leave a party right when you think to yourself, I'm having such a good time at this party. Because after that they had said the night could only go downhill.'
David Hastings has dementia and he's made a decision to travel to an assisted dying clinic in Switzerland before his condition means a life of care and no awareness . Emma Cline's latest novel couldn't have been written at a more apt as around the world the right to euthanasia is being debated and in many countries now being fully recognised as an important path to providing dignity.
Switzy follows the final few days of David's life as he leaves home in the USA- ably supported by his assistant Cody -and travels to Europe; first to London to see his daughter and grandson and then onto Switzerland where he hopes to find peace with an old school friend in France as well as commit his inal act.
David has lived in the world of big business and has experienced what luxury and opulence is but as he journeys to Zurich, he reflects on the meaning ( or meaningless) of the life of the rich and "successful" as well as digging deeper into his school days where he betrayed a true friendship.
Thoughts also explore the world of today and how it is not easy for anyone to be at peace and feel fractured within themselves- especially in relation to their brains and minds and the continual bombardment of imagery on screens. "Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant sate of fracture, and even before he'd actually lost his mind, he'd lost his mind; everyone."
As David travels from private jet to London to luxury hotels and onwards, he begins to lose grip of what is happening around him. Emma Cline's incredible prose takes on this journey of fragmentation as David loses thought and understanding of his surroundings but is fully composed mentis about the key reason for his travels. The staccato like sentences through the novel add to a sense of splintering from living to confusion to death.
This is not an easy read but I was gripped from the start and devoured the book in a couple of days. The only thing that kept coming to mind was that the choices that David made were mainly from within the realms of wealth and for many this choice of a dignified choice may not be so possible.
This is a superb novel, unforgettable and deeply moving and one I will recommend - with a sense of awareness for individual circumstances. If this novel opens up discussions and makes us all confront our immortality and what is of true value then that is no bad thing.
Thank you to Chatto and Windus and NetGalley for the advance copy and an honest and unbiased review.
'Someone had told him once: You should always leave a party right when you think to yourself, I'm having such a good time at this party. Because after that they had said the night could only go downhill.'
David Hastings has dementia and he's made a decision to travel to an assisted dying clinic in Switzerland before his condition means a life of care and no awareness . Emma Cline's latest novel couldn't have been written at a more apt as around the world the right to euthanasia is being debated and in many countries now being fully recognised as an important path to providing dignity.
Switzy follows the final few days of David's life as he leaves home in the USA- ably supported by his assistant Cody -and travels to Europe; first to London to see his daughter and grandson and then onto Switzerland where he hopes to find peace with an old school friend in France as well as commit his inal act.
David has lived in the world of big business and has experienced what luxury and opulence is but as he journeys to Zurich, he reflects on the meaning ( or meaningless) of the life of the rich and "successful" as well as digging deeper into his school days where he betrayed a true friendship.
Thoughts also explore the world of today and how it is not easy for anyone to be at peace and feel fractured within themselves- especially in relation to their brains and minds and the continual bombardment of imagery on screens. "Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant sate of fracture, and even before he'd actually lost his mind, he'd lost his mind; everyone."
As David travels from private jet to London to luxury hotels and onwards, he begins to lose grip of what is happening around him. Emma Cline's incredible prose takes on this journey of fragmentation as David loses thought and understanding of his surroundings but is fully composed mentis about the key reason for his travels. The staccato like sentences through the novel add to a sense of splintering from living to confusion to death.
This is not an easy read but I was gripped from the start and devoured the book in a couple of days. The only thing that kept coming to mind was that the choices that David made were mainly from within the realms of wealth and for many this choice of a dignified choice may not be so possible.
This is a superb novel, unforgettable and deeply moving and one I will recommend - with a sense of awareness for individual circumstances. If this novel opens up discussions and makes us all confront our immortality and what is of true value then that is no bad thing.
Thank you to Chatto and Windus and NetGalley for the advance copy and an honest and unbiased review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
It pains me a little to give only two stars to Switzy by Emma Cline, given to me by Random House UK, Vintage and NetGalley in exchange for this honest review, however, I'm sure Cline knows that this book is more literary than light in its aims, objectives and scope.
Like the unspooling of a thread. We have David, a wealthy, privileged American choosing to end his life in Switzerland to beat the clock, leave the party early (this analogy was repeated many times to reflect David's state of mind) to check in, Hotel California style and never leave...
David is at-times-lucid, always reflective and more and more and lost in life. Cody, his assistant is presented as a caring user. A reviewer questions whether Cody is an embezzler or a diligent employee. I'd opt for the former as Cline writes intelligently about how people use other humans much as she did in the Girls and the Guest.
Cline's writing is grand in scale and, at times, kind of revolting. There's a fair whack of conversation about how David 'smells like an old person' and has to use persimmon soap - while interesting, we have continually bodily references to his need for this soap, combined with bowel movements and the humiliation of losing his bodily autonomy. A bruise on his behind is a key memory in this text's latter half, as is a bunch of memories on the penultimate page about the path not taken. It could have been profound but felt, again, kind of vulgar and fleeting.
Cline's power with the Girls was to take a naive victim who had learned in her older age just how dangerous her affiliation with the Manson gang was, as well as how lucky she was to fade into obscurity, although by doing this, she lost the freedom that comes with enjoying life and the fear of being found to be part of an infamous period of American history that heralded the end of the 'happy hippy' phase. The Guest was like an acid trip about someone who was existing on the kindness of strangers. Again, exploring how danger comes from losing stability and security. Switzy is the Remains of the Day (I did not like the title of this book by the way, Christie's While the Light Lasts is another example of a title that gives pause for thought; perhaps this book should gone with something like Blossom of snow, beautiful, brief and away or something as Edelweiss was a continual reference point) but perhaps more stunted, less taut and suitably more tragic for the reader.
I'm sure this will be a help for those, like David checking out of the party/checking in to the Hotel California.
Like the unspooling of a thread. We have David, a wealthy, privileged American choosing to end his life in Switzerland to beat the clock, leave the party early (this analogy was repeated many times to reflect David's state of mind) to check in, Hotel California style and never leave...
David is at-times-lucid, always reflective and more and more and lost in life. Cody, his assistant is presented as a caring user. A reviewer questions whether Cody is an embezzler or a diligent employee. I'd opt for the former as Cline writes intelligently about how people use other humans much as she did in the Girls and the Guest.
Cline's writing is grand in scale and, at times, kind of revolting. There's a fair whack of conversation about how David 'smells like an old person' and has to use persimmon soap - while interesting, we have continually bodily references to his need for this soap, combined with bowel movements and the humiliation of losing his bodily autonomy. A bruise on his behind is a key memory in this text's latter half, as is a bunch of memories on the penultimate page about the path not taken. It could have been profound but felt, again, kind of vulgar and fleeting.
Cline's power with the Girls was to take a naive victim who had learned in her older age just how dangerous her affiliation with the Manson gang was, as well as how lucky she was to fade into obscurity, although by doing this, she lost the freedom that comes with enjoying life and the fear of being found to be part of an infamous period of American history that heralded the end of the 'happy hippy' phase. The Guest was like an acid trip about someone who was existing on the kindness of strangers. Again, exploring how danger comes from losing stability and security. Switzy is the Remains of the Day (I did not like the title of this book by the way, Christie's While the Light Lasts is another example of a title that gives pause for thought; perhaps this book should gone with something like Blossom of snow, beautiful, brief and away or something as Edelweiss was a continual reference point) but perhaps more stunted, less taut and suitably more tragic for the reader.
I'm sure this will be a help for those, like David checking out of the party/checking in to the Hotel California.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House UK for this ARC!
In Emma Cline’s third novel, we are transported into the mind of a man on his very last journey. David has dementia, and made the decision to take the matter of his death into his own hands. The book opens with David and his assistant Cody on a plane to London, where they plan on visiting David’s (admittedly mostly estranged) daughter and her family. Next we journey to France, meeting an old friend of David’s he has been estranged from for most of his life, but who he has never forgotten. The final destination is Zurich.
I think this is an extremely difficult book to review. In many ways, it achieves exactly what it is meant to achieve. Being trapped in David’s deteriorating mind with him is an alienating, claustrophobic experience. One of my greatest fears, like many others’, is to suffer from dementia myself, or to see one of my loved ones suffer from it. This fear makes reading this a near horror-like experience.
However, it is also a very, very slow book. By that I don’t mean the inevitable repetitions, loops and confusions of David’s mind. My issue was that this simply felt a tad too long, too drawn out. While I do think that this helps the overall effect of the book, it makes it a less pleasant reading experience.
I felt the book was well-written and 100% successful at creating this tense atmosphere, a caged feeling. I just didn’t think it was particularly enjoyable.
Still, there were quite a lot of interesting elements of this book, questions it left me with that I feel need a reread to be answered, to examine the book more closely in an attempt to untangle the clues David’s internal monologue leaves behind.
Especially because David himself is a very interesting character. I think it is easy to simply write old characters as either incorrigibly evil or unfailingly good, so the realness of David, how complex and layered he is, was fantastic. While we get many glimpses into his past, we don’t get quite the full picture, and you’ll be left wondering about him even past the end of the book.
If you like very slow literary fiction told by a somewhat unreliable narrator, a book that masterfully creates a tense, confining atmosphere, this one is for you. Go into it expecting things to drag a bit, and I think you can absolutely love this.
In Emma Cline’s third novel, we are transported into the mind of a man on his very last journey. David has dementia, and made the decision to take the matter of his death into his own hands. The book opens with David and his assistant Cody on a plane to London, where they plan on visiting David’s (admittedly mostly estranged) daughter and her family. Next we journey to France, meeting an old friend of David’s he has been estranged from for most of his life, but who he has never forgotten. The final destination is Zurich.
I think this is an extremely difficult book to review. In many ways, it achieves exactly what it is meant to achieve. Being trapped in David’s deteriorating mind with him is an alienating, claustrophobic experience. One of my greatest fears, like many others’, is to suffer from dementia myself, or to see one of my loved ones suffer from it. This fear makes reading this a near horror-like experience.
However, it is also a very, very slow book. By that I don’t mean the inevitable repetitions, loops and confusions of David’s mind. My issue was that this simply felt a tad too long, too drawn out. While I do think that this helps the overall effect of the book, it makes it a less pleasant reading experience.
I felt the book was well-written and 100% successful at creating this tense atmosphere, a caged feeling. I just didn’t think it was particularly enjoyable.
Still, there were quite a lot of interesting elements of this book, questions it left me with that I feel need a reread to be answered, to examine the book more closely in an attempt to untangle the clues David’s internal monologue leaves behind.
Especially because David himself is a very interesting character. I think it is easy to simply write old characters as either incorrigibly evil or unfailingly good, so the realness of David, how complex and layered he is, was fantastic. While we get many glimpses into his past, we don’t get quite the full picture, and you’ll be left wondering about him even past the end of the book.
If you like very slow literary fiction told by a somewhat unreliable narrator, a book that masterfully creates a tense, confining atmosphere, this one is for you. Go into it expecting things to drag a bit, and I think you can absolutely love this.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
When I began reading Switzy by Emma Cline, I’ll have to admit my eyes rolled so far back I thought it would bring on a massive headache. Here I was, reading another book, about another very entitled, very rich, very sick and aged person during his last days on Earth while he flew on a private jet with all of the fixings, on his way to his final destination in Switzerland. I was like, come on, not everyone can have a life like Switzy’s main character, David Hasting. However, as I continued to read, my eyes calmed down and I became mesmerized by the tale of David’s life and journey.
The writing is so good. When you read this book, please don’t skim the pages, don’t skim the paragraphs. Read every word. You won’t miss the fact that there are no quotation marks used during the many conversations held. Nor any italics provided to designate David’s inner thoughts. You will be immersed and become amazed by the story that Ms. Cline has given us: insight into the mind of a person who is in serious cognitive decline as he interacts with the people he meets on his journey and of those from his past.
There are so many emotions that flow in and out of each scene. I’m amazed of each of the many faces and the many thoughts I made throughout the novel. To give you an idea, there is one scene had me experience so many of the same feelings that David has when he finds a naked woman bathing in his hotel bathtub: surprise, disbelief, confusion (much), arousal (not much), longing, hope, shame and sadness. I was unsettled, as if in fear, from the first moment of woman’s discovery to the final sentence of that scene. That’s how good the writing is.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I was doing a bit of eyerolling and, admittedly, skimming the pages, until I wasn’t. I’m not sure at what point I felt it was important to read each word, but it happened and I took my reader, moved the progress bar back to 0%, and restarted my reading. It is doubtful that I’ll soon forget David’s final journey.
An E-ARC of Switzy by Emma Cline was provided by Hogarth & Random House via Madison Dettlinger, through NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.
The writing is so good. When you read this book, please don’t skim the pages, don’t skim the paragraphs. Read every word. You won’t miss the fact that there are no quotation marks used during the many conversations held. Nor any italics provided to designate David’s inner thoughts. You will be immersed and become amazed by the story that Ms. Cline has given us: insight into the mind of a person who is in serious cognitive decline as he interacts with the people he meets on his journey and of those from his past.
There are so many emotions that flow in and out of each scene. I’m amazed of each of the many faces and the many thoughts I made throughout the novel. To give you an idea, there is one scene had me experience so many of the same feelings that David has when he finds a naked woman bathing in his hotel bathtub: surprise, disbelief, confusion (much), arousal (not much), longing, hope, shame and sadness. I was unsettled, as if in fear, from the first moment of woman’s discovery to the final sentence of that scene. That’s how good the writing is.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this review, I was doing a bit of eyerolling and, admittedly, skimming the pages, until I wasn’t. I’m not sure at what point I felt it was important to read each word, but it happened and I took my reader, moved the progress bar back to 0%, and restarted my reading. It is doubtful that I’ll soon forget David’s final journey.
An E-ARC of Switzy by Emma Cline was provided by Hogarth & Random House via Madison Dettlinger, through NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Thanks to NetGalley and Chatto and Windus for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
This will be a shorter review than I normally do because, 1) it's hard to review without spoilers, and 2) you'll get more out of it if you go in fresh.
This is the first of Emma's books for me and it sounded really intriguing.
The writing style was a bit stop-start, a lot of really short sentences, which I don't have an issue with when they're used sparingly among other sentence lengths, but this is predominately short sentences which made it have a weird, unnatural flow. It's more of a complete stream of consciousness that didn't really have a whole lot of meat on it.
It also has no speech marks which I dislike terribly.
I won't spoil it by saying exactly what, but it's clear from the synopsis that he is heading to Switzerland for "the thing" they do in Switzerland that you can't do in other countries. And so Emma has given David a health battle and it's a health battle I have familial experiencing with and I've never seen it mentioned in fiction before so that was a surprise. I think she's been very sensitive about it, not hiding away from the difficult aspects but not making it so morbidly depressing.
It's got a great premise and the depth she's put into the emotional side of the story is impressive. I liked following the medical, more emotional moments, that interests me. I can't say I overly disliked the rest, but I felt the writing style and sentence structure was wrong for a lot of it and there needed to be more of a variety of sentence lengths.
It reminded me of Andrew O'Hagan's Mayflies because of the similar topic, although they were both approached very differently.
It was sad in parts and stressful, but there are hopeful moments, even if they are hidden among the more morbid aspects. Overall, I enjoyed it but I can't say I loved it. I found her use of emotion and storytelling to be very good and this has definitely piqued my interest in terms of her other books.
This will be a shorter review than I normally do because, 1) it's hard to review without spoilers, and 2) you'll get more out of it if you go in fresh.
This is the first of Emma's books for me and it sounded really intriguing.
The writing style was a bit stop-start, a lot of really short sentences, which I don't have an issue with when they're used sparingly among other sentence lengths, but this is predominately short sentences which made it have a weird, unnatural flow. It's more of a complete stream of consciousness that didn't really have a whole lot of meat on it.
It also has no speech marks which I dislike terribly.
I won't spoil it by saying exactly what, but it's clear from the synopsis that he is heading to Switzerland for "the thing" they do in Switzerland that you can't do in other countries. And so Emma has given David a health battle and it's a health battle I have familial experiencing with and I've never seen it mentioned in fiction before so that was a surprise. I think she's been very sensitive about it, not hiding away from the difficult aspects but not making it so morbidly depressing.
It's got a great premise and the depth she's put into the emotional side of the story is impressive. I liked following the medical, more emotional moments, that interests me. I can't say I overly disliked the rest, but I felt the writing style and sentence structure was wrong for a lot of it and there needed to be more of a variety of sentence lengths.
It reminded me of Andrew O'Hagan's Mayflies because of the similar topic, although they were both approached very differently.
It was sad in parts and stressful, but there are hopeful moments, even if they are hidden among the more morbid aspects. Overall, I enjoyed it but I can't say I loved it. I found her use of emotion and storytelling to be very good and this has definitely piqued my interest in terms of her other books.
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