Switzy

by Emma Cline

NATIONAL BESTSELLER LONGLISTED FOR THE BOOKER PRIZE NEW YORK TIMES BOOK REVIEW EDITORS’ CHOICE GOODREADS CHOICE AWARD NOMINEE

A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the award-winning author of The Girls and The Guest.

“Piercing and suspenseful.”—The Wall Street Journal
“Bold . . . arresting . . . stylistically adventurous.”—The Boston Globe
“Profoundly moving.”—The Guardian

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.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Contemporary, Audiobook, Novels, Adult, Adult Fiction

Audible Audio

First published September 8, 2026

About the author

Emma 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.

Reviews

[Meike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now Longlisted for the Booker Prize 2026
This is a very, very hard read for anyone really - the protagonist is in that terrifying state of Alzheimer's when the mind registers its own rapid decline, trapping the patient in a position of helplessness, as the disease will at some point inevitably win. This is a destiny that could await any of us, and if you happen to have lived with a friend of family member who suffered an illness related to progressive memory loss (as I did), this novel is all the more devastating - I felt like crying from 10% in to the very end.

Cline's protagonist is David Hastings, a divorced former CFO in his 70's who is travelling to Zurich to end his life in an assisted suicide before his illness deteriorates further. This novel is not here to judge or even discuss the morality or immorality of suicide or organisations that help people with it; rather, it tells the tale of one specific man in mental decline who takes his final trip. We meet David on a private plane to Switzerland with his assistant Cody, so a paid person, not a loved one will be with him when he dies. Before he gets to his last destination, the Swiss clinic, he stops over in London to meet his daughter Rebecca and travels to France to meet a friend from his school days whom he failed in a haunting act of youthful cowardice.

In a way, this novel is very conservatively written, there is no po-mo extravaganza or three-dimensional chess, and while I love whacky stuff like fellow nominee The Vivisectors, this delivers on emotional intensity and creates a shocking understanding of a shattering mind: Failing memories, intruding thoughts and images, grasping at straws, fugue states, being angered by the reflection of oneself seen in others, because they are a testament of one's own loss of control. David was an influential, respected man, now some assistant has to point out his stained clothes and remind him where he is - for a man of his generation, this is even harder to deal with. This feeling is hightened by the effects of the changing world around aging David (which prompted me to wonder how younger generations will feel about this, as the change is ever accelerating). At the same time, while he doesn't utter open regret, readers will ponder how he ended up so lonely, why he failed himself when it comes to love by always remaining emotionally distant.

No, David is not a likeable grandpa figure, he's a very messy old white man who made some bad decisions along the way and failed the ones he should have loved better, but his deep humanity renders this tale heart-wrenching. A very worthy Booker contender that could go far.

You can now listen to the podcast gang discussing the German translation In die Schweiz here: https://papierstaupodcast.de/podcast/...

[Emily May · Rating 4.5 out of 5]

A sad thought—this chill would accompany him right to the end. David had already gotten his last sunny day and it had happened without him knowing it.
Tears sprang to his eyes.
So couldn't he have another chance? Now that he knew to look out for it?

This was definitely good, but it was very depressing. I don't mean that as a criticism, just as a warning: read only if you're sure the darkness won't swallow you whole.

The first and last Emma Cline book I attempted to read, until now, was The Girls. I did not like the writing style at all. But that was ten years ago and this book is nothing like what I remember of Cline's writing. And quite a departure from her usual subject matter from what I can tell. Switzy is, in short, the story of David, a man clearly suffering from Alzheimer's, on his way to Zurich for assisted suicide.

Naturally, it's a lot more than that too. It's a reflection on a life, one which seems to harbour far too many regrets— not enough affection given, apologies long overdue —and also a rumination on death. I thought I was a fairly morbid person who had thought a lot about death. How and when it might happen, what I would remember, if I would have regrets. But reading this book made me realise that I had barely scratched the surface of thinking about death, and probably for good reason.

It's also surprisingly funny, though you might have that feeling you're laughing so you don't cry. From David's gallows humour when he notes that the Zurich facility requires payment beforehand, to his distressingly comical confusion, these offered brief sparks of light and warmth in a book that I have the curious urge to say feels like winter. It feels cold and gloomy. It feels like the end. Cline has done a fantastic job of capturing the sadness of endings and lasts.

The story is clumped into small sections, sometimes of a couple paragraphs, sometimes just a sentence, probably to mimic the fragmenting of David's thoughts and memories. We stay with David's perspective, but in third person, which allows the reader to be slightly confused and disoriented when he is, but not so much that we can't patch together what is really happening. I think this balance works really well. We get a personal attachment to David and get to appreciate the way this disease cuts you off from knowing the world around you, but we also see the reality through the eyes of a bystander.

David himself is a complex and flawed character, and his life has been marked by selfishness and cowardice. I actually think, however, this makes the story more powerful. An uncomplicatedly good person in his position would have made a maudlin and far less interesting tale. It is sadder to reach the end of your life and be unable to think of yourself as the hero of your story. How can I not have some pity for him? For what it has cost him in the end?

[emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

if this book doesn't change my life i'm going to file a formal complaint

(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)

[Caz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Switzy, but I certainly wasn’t expecting to become quite so invested in the mind of a man I didn’t particularly like.

David Hastings is a man in his seventies living with Alzheimer’s. He’s travelling to Switzerland, having made the decision to end his life before his condition progresses any further and takes away more of his independence.

David isn’t exactly the most likeable of characters. He’s difficult, flawed and not always particularly pleasant, but somewhere along the way I found myself feeling genuinely sorry for him. And I think that’s what makes this book so compelling.

Emma Cline takes us right inside David’s mind, and I thought this was incredibly clever. We’re moving between memories, past relationships and what’s happening in the present. One moment David seems to have a clear recollection of something that happened years ago, and the next he’s struggling to make sense of what’s happening around him.

It’s confusing, sometimes unsettling, and that’s precisely the point. You’re piecing things together alongside David, never quite knowing whether you’re following a memory, something happening now or a mixture of the two. I genuinely felt as though I was walking in his shoes, trying to make sense of a world that was becoming increasingly unfamiliar.

As more of David’s past comes to the surface, we get glimpses of his relationships, his regrets and the person he once was. He’s certainly not perfect, and I liked that Emma Cline doesn’t shy away from his less appealing qualities. Having Alzheimer’s doesn’t suddenly make him a different person or erase the things he’s done.

What really struck me was how much this story makes you think about memory and identity. How much of who we are is tied to the memories we carry? And what happens when those memories start slipping away? It’s a difficult subject, and the questions surrounding dignity, independence and the right to choose make this an especially thought-provoking read.

I found myself completely absorbed in David’s story. There were moments that made me sad, moments that made me stop and think, and plenty that had me trying to piece together what was going on in his head.

This isn’t necessarily an easy or comfortable read, but I found it incredibly compelling. Emma Cline has taken a difficult subject and given us a story that feels intimate, complicated and deeply human.

I came away thinking about David, even with all his flaws. And I think that’s quite something.

Thank you, NetGalley, Random House UK Publishers and Emma Cline for this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

Publishing date: 8th September 2026

[Lisa of Troy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Have you ever seen those videos of nurses and doctors full on sprinting to a patient’s room? In 2021, that was my room. With my heart rate soaring into the 230’s, a “Code Blue” (death or dying) was called. During this time, I was slipping into various stages of unconsciousness—my vision was completely black, but I could hear a herd of medical professionals bursting into my room and the clanging of the crash cart being dragged to my room.

My death at that time was so imminent that when my doctor announced that I needed heart surgery, I was prohibited from going back home first. I would die before getting back.

When death was that close two things happened:
1) The answer to dessert is always yes. Also, if you are ordering from a menu, and you would normally think, “Oh, I’ll try that next time,” there is no next time. Order it all now. The parade of taste is absolutely exquisite.
2) I wore my pink watch. For years, I had this beautiful watch, but it wasn’t business professional. Guess who suddenly didn’t care? What was I afraid of? That I would offend someone and they would dig me out of my grave?

And Switzy didn’t really lean into these themes.

In Switzy, David Hastings, a man in his 70’s has a terminal illness. He has a few loose ends to wrap up before his final appointment in Zurich.

This book is told in a similar manner to The Great Gatsby in that David’s biographical information is revealed in nonchronological bursts. This technique gives the book a realistic feel—most humans usually learn about each other in bits and pieces. Rarely does someone sit down at the bar and say, “Hi, I’m Jim. I was born in 1932 in Battle Creek, Michigan…”

Switzy also accurately portrayed how some people react to a dire health diagnosis. Not everyone is understanding or from a Hallmark movie. Before my first heart surgery, I called my father. He told me that he was getting another call and abruptly hung up. My mouth was still hanging open when I heard the dial tone. He never called back before my surgery.

However, where this book fails is in David Hastings. He doesn’t have any major relationships where his death will be a profound loss, so if this book was designed to pull at the heart strings, this wasn’t the right character.

Also, and I know that this is extremely controversial, but here I am metaphorically wearing my pink watch. The author doesn’t really lean into this, but to the chronically ill, Zurich is a relief even if it is only a state of mind.

What am I even talking about?

The truth is that I have an incurable genetic illness. Most days, I am stumbling and gasping for breath. I am so tired it doesn’t feel like I am going to die—it feels like I already died decades ago; things are happening around me, but I can’t do anything, passing through this life in an out-of-body experience. There aren’t words for my suffering.

Again, it is genetic. I never wanted to be a burden to anyone. I never asked for this. The cruelty is in the helplessness. Even if I never go to Zurich, there is much comfort in knowing that it is an option, that when there are no more good days, that there is an emergency exit tunnel somewhere in the world.

The Green Light at the End of the Dock (How much I spent):
Hardcover Text – $35.37 from Pango Books
Audiobook – Free through Libby

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[Canadian Jen · Rating 4.25 out of 5]

It’s been a busy week,but here are my thoughts:
This one hit close. Uncomfortably so. My mom has had dementia for several years; my dad passed away with Alzheimer’s. Kind of leaves me wondering where I will be in the mix. A scary thought as the future looms closer everyday.
David has decided to end his life before the disease progresses any further. His clarity is evaporating hour by hour. He’s travelled to Zurich with his care worker. He was once an important businessman; now, not so much.
The past comes back in small bits. Memorable aspects reflecting what really mattered. Both the good and the bad.
Cline’s writing is sharp and unnerving: we are witness to a man who has lost himself and tries to hold on to the the fragile threads of his life; his memory.
4.25⭐️

[Barbara · Rating 5 out of 5]

How did Emma Cline get inside the mind of a privileged, unenlightened septuagenarian man suffering from dementia? Who did she study? Because although this is a work of fiction, Cline’s imagining of the final days of her protagonist, David Hastings, a retired executive, feels unnervingly true and real.

The novel follows David as he embarks upon his final undertaking: flying to Zurich to legally end his life.

Through David’s fleeting, fragmented, and often random thoughts, the reader gradually pieces together the contours of his life--and David wasn’t always kind, nor was he particularly introspective. He is divorced and estranged from his daughter, and one incident from high school remains a source of genuine regret. Now that he has chosen the circumstances of his death, the question becomes: How will he spend his remaining days? Can he make amends for the harm he has caused? And, at this point, is that even possible?

David is accompanied by his devoted personal assistant, whom he nevertheless suspects of stealing from him. Before his diagnosis, David was also responsible for some questionable and increasingly erratic business dealings, but Cline wisely leaves much of what actually happened for the reader to decipher. We experience events as David does--in spurts of memory, flashes of suspicion, moments of tenderness, and deeply uncomfortable recollections.

Reading the novel is at times akin to inhabiting a fever dream. The chapters are short, fragmented, and powerful, mirroring a mind that can no longer reliably distinguish memory from interpretation.

This is an uneasy work of fiction, the kind that causes the reader to pause and reflect. What thoughts would occupy our minds if we were given a terminal diagnosis and knew the exact date of our death? As we accompany David on his painful journey down memory lane, we see what bubbles to the surface during his own “last reel”--the moments his mind has chosen to preserve, whether he wants them there or not.

Most compelling is the reckoning beneath it all. With time running out, David is forced to confront the personal mythology he constructed around success, power, family, and his own behavior. Cline never asks us to excuse him or even necessarily to like him. Instead, she does something far more interesting: she asks us to inhabit his mind as it begins to fail him.

Uncomfortable, haunting, and extraordinarily perceptive.

Simply brilliant.

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Publishing for the early ARC. Expected publication date: September 8, 2026.

[Marcus (Lit_Laugh_Luv) · Rating 3.5 out of 5]

[3.5 stars] An interesting pivot for Cline. I'll join the chorus of commentary saying that this is unexpected and feels like an intentional departure from her previous titles. With that said, I think Switzy borrows a lot of the successful storytelling techniques from The Guest — the plot once again takes place over a few days, and our protagonist's past is only offered to the reader in fleeting flashbacks.

Cline's stories are fascinating because they don't shy away from the expected; in all three of her novels, the ending is deliberately telegraphed from the beginning. Switzy is perhaps the most telegraphed of the three, yet I found myself unable to put it down. For a 350+ page book, it reads incredibly quickly.

As David grapples with his rapidly progressing Alzheimer's disease, there is a deliberate repetition and blurring of time that places the reader squarely in his perspective. There are reflections on mortality, estrangement, and the fact that we eventually all become strangers to the world we inhabit. I found myself wanting a deeper dissection of the latter theme — David makes several allusions to technology, cultural shifts, and the intangible strangeness that modernity presents — but these allusions are shy.

There's a lot Switzy does right, yet I can't help but feel some degree of disappointment that the premise is not particularly fresh. On a technical level, the prose is excellent, and it avoids the banalities that similar books often delve into (I don't need an asinine lecture on the ethics of medically assisted death). By the conclusion of the novel, David's story still feels half written, which I personally didn't mind, but I would anticipate will leave some readers dissatisfied.

I'm in two minds because I do think that Cline is a writer worthy of plenty of accolades, but I'm not sure if Switzy is her best showing. An enjoyable read (despite my laundry list of complaints, I still think a four-star rating is appropriate), but certainly more commercial than her previous releases. Thank you to the publisher for the ARC.
---
Emma 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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[Debbie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pogo stick time!

Ah, finally, a book that sent me bouncing—and blabbing about how good it is! Oh I am so excited! The language is to die for! It opens with a demented man, David, and his assistant, Cody, on a plane to Switzerland.

David is always trying to grasp what is really going on. Often he is clueless or misinterprets what’s happening. And while he’s trying to hold on for dear life, snippets of long-ago memories come into his head. Through these memories, we get a real sense of what his life was like before he started slipping.

Why I loved it:

-Every word is carefully placed. And every word counts; not an extraneous word to be had. I was mesmerized! This writer means business, and she is a master of her craft! In awe, simply in awe.

-The style is sort of stream-of-consciousness and it has this cool rhythm, like jazz. You can always seduce me with language that dances like this. Cha cha cha!

-There’s word play. Oh heaven help me, I’m a goner! One of my favorites is sodium pinot-barbiedoll (meaning sodium Pentothal, of course)! David hears and says things that are not quite right, but close. Some very funny phrases to be had!

-The book is full of insights. I highlighted a lot. Yum!

-Wow did I ever feel like I was seeing the world through the eyes of someone with Alzheimer’s! Through David’s eyes, everything is off-kilter, wrong, strange, confusing.

-David’s interactions are fascinating and intense, especially with his daughter and a long-lost friend. I was at attention, savoring every word, wondering what would happen next. I was usually embarrassed for David, and I sweated out people’s uncomfortable reaction to him. People have such trouble trying to handle someone with dementia, and the author conveys this discomfort, this awkwardness, beautifully. Yum yum again.

-This story is told in third person. What?? How to get so deeply inside someone’s head if the story isn’t told in first person? It’s bizarre (and brilliant) that we get to see David’s world so clearly. David sees things through a glaze, as his memories fade in and out and his mind plays tricks on him, yet at the same time, objects stand out in high relief. Very trippy. Conversations seem vague and weird and often hushed. There’s some unreliable narrating going on, as David’s take on reality isn’t to be trusted. I love me an unreliable narrator!

-David is a rich, aloof person. I was surprised I was fond of him, since he wasn’t personable or relatable. A skilled author, that’s what’s going on here!

A few (of many) favorite quotes:

“… the day would come and he’d find that the contents of his brain had been excised with an ice cream scoop instead of these dainty little teaspoons, here and there.”

“He was sometimes a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.”

“Amyloid plaque, the doctor said so often, often enough that David started hearing it as Amy Lloyd plaque. I hate you, Amy Lloyd, he thought idly.”

I loved Cline’s The Girls. This is a totally different kind of story, which shows the author’s range. I just read that this book is long-listed for the Booker Prize. It’s deserved—and exciting!

This is a sad book, but beautiful. I hardly ever recommend reading a blurb, but the Goodreads blurb is excellent and it does not give spoilers. Check it out.

This is how it’s done, folks. Kudos to Cline! Highly recommended!

Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.

Expected publication date: September 8, 2026

[Michael Burke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Racing Away from the Finish Line

Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize, Emma Cline’s third novel, “Switzy,” stands among my favorite books of the year. The story offers a hypnotic, haunting, and deeply poignant portrait of David Hastings, a retired executive entering the final, delicate stage of his life.

Though built upon a deceptively simple premise, the story unfolds into a deeply moving and intimate character study. David, who is navigating the early stages of Alzheimer’s– a condition the author intentionally avoids naming– sets out on a final journey across Europe toward Zurich, where he plans to utilize assisted-death services. What follows is a devastating portrait of decline that manages to turn the messy, fragmented reality of cognitive decline into a coherent narrative achievement.

Cline reportedly conducted extensive research into the medical realities of Alzheimer’s, and the result is nothing short of remarkable. It is difficult to comprehend how she captured the visceral experience of a deteriorating mind—the misheard words, the sudden loss of self-recognition, the desperate grasp for "mental breadcrumbs"—so vividly without having endured it personally. The level of detail makes the text feel uncomfortably real, transforming what could have been a clinical observation into an immersive, fever-dream experience.

David’s internal evolution is portrayed with striking authenticity. Beyond his fading memory, his diminishing independence is revealed through his defense mechanisms and evolving sense of reality. While David is not inherently a likable figure, our empathy stems from connecting with his internal battle. This poignant, evocative portrait of cognitive decline speaks deeply not only to those who have witnessed a loved one slowly dissolve, but with anyone reflecting on their own future and the limits of their own agency.

The heart of the book lies in the quiet, heartbreaking moments where David attempts to reconcile his past compromises with his present reality. “Switzy” is an uneasy, haunting work of fiction that leaves an indelible mark, forcing you to pause and reflect on the final glimpses of a life. It is an extraordinary, perceptive achievement that will resonate for a long time.

Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review. #Switzy #NetGalley

[Angela M · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wasn’t planning on reading this at first, passing on an invitation to read the ARC . I had recently read a novel with one of the characters suffering with Alzheimer’s and it was heartbreaking. Then I read Debbie’s review and thought I should give it a try. There’s no mistaking that this is a sad story as a man makes his a final journey with no one with him besides an assistant doing his job without any compassion that’s visible.

A man trying to hold on to his present, his life , struggling to come to grips . An imagining of what it must be like to forget, to remember, and forget, to sometimes know what is happening and not be able to control it. At the same time, we get a feeling for what his life was like before, we see a flawed man. A visit with his daughter and an old friend before reaching the final destination of his journey in Zurich felt empty without any reconciliation.

In a stream of consciousness like narration, moving from the present to the past and back to the present, from confusion to moments of clarity and back, with a few moments of levity. Cline’s imagining seems believable . Who knows how real these feelings and observations are? We can only imagine. Kudos to her for causing us to do so.

I received a copy of this from Random House through NetGalley.

[lark benobi · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am a huge Emma Cline fan and this novel is so masterful, and so unexpected, because it inhabits a completely different register from her previous novels, that I am feeling something like stunned disbelief, along with the afterglow of having just completed and extraordinary and extraordinarily moving novel.

[Ron Charles · Rating 4 out of 5]

We just don’t do gonzo publishing stories like we used to.

Twelve years ago, publicity focused on Emma Cline like sunlight through a magnifying glass. The 25-year-old unpublished novelist had secured a three-book deal reportedly worth $2 million. In 2016, The Girls, her hot debut novel — inspired by the Manson family, no less! — was the “it” book of the season, sparking enthusiastic reviews (my own included), gauzy profiles, and talk of a movie (still unmade, though Antoneta Alamat Kusijanović is rumored to direct it this fall).

As so rarely happens, that unhinged enthusiasm proved largely on point. Cline followed up with a superb story collection, Daddy, and then another fine novel, The Guest, about a young escort running out of time and money in the Hamptons.

Her new novel, Switzy, is the first to move beyond the heliosphere of that initial blaze of glory, though it’s already been longlisted for the Booker Prize and an excerpt ran last month in The New Yorker. The subject excites none of the lurid frisson of the Manson cult or the foundering of a sex worker. No longer writing about the way women contend with men, Cline has turned her attention to the way an old man contends with mortality. It’s about as sexy as compression socks.

David Hastings is a wealthy businessman shunted into retirement after committing an expensive financial error, probably caused by Alzheimer’s.

“It wasn’t technically early-onset,” he claims. Though he’s in his 70s, “it probably always felt early, no matter how old you were.”

That’s David’s voice — or the complicated sum of David and Cline’s voices, which allows Switzy to glide down the asymptote of his consciousness, approaching disintegration while articulating the descent. As a work of narrative technique, it’s astonishing; as a journey of emotional concentration, it’s harrowing. Cline has a profound grasp of the muscle memory of social interaction, the extent to which David can act the part of a thoughtful older gentleman with the right gestures and asides, long after he has little idea what’s happening.

We meet David when he’s already en route to Zurich, where he’s scheduled to end his life by assisted suicide. As befits a man of his consequence and executive privilege, he’s...

You can read the rest of this review for free on Substack:
https://roncharles.substack.com/p/emm...

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

A stream of conscious narration of a man’s last journey.
David Hastings is a retired executive in his 70’s that has Alzheimers and he is traveling to Switzerland with his assistant to voluntarily end his life.
The author does such a fantastic job of portraying what the mind must do in an Alzheimer’s patient, makes you think she must have someone close to her with or having had the disease.
As this few days of his journey progresses, we learn more about him and the life he led.
This was a very immersing and affecting read.
4.5

Thank you to NetGalley and Random house for the free ebook in exchange for an honest review.

[Jonas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Switzy is an incredibly well written novel. It gives the reader a glimpse into the mind of a man who is slipping into dementia. We see how it impacts his interior and exterior life. I truly felt like I was inside David’s mind. It was like a game of chutes and ladders as one idea loosely connects to a former memory, slides to another memory and lands somewhere far from where it all began. David is on a quest of reconciliation and recollection. I love quest stories and was rooting for David. He does reconnect with those he holds in his mind and heart. Switzy is told in short snippets. The loss of one’s memory and one’s sense of self is truly heartbreaking. Emma Cline brilliantly delivers a humbling and heartbreaking meditation on life and death. I will revisit this one often.

[Barbara K · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think it says in my GR Profile that my criteria for a 5 star book is that it makes me glad I learned to read. I don’t always adhere to this standard; all too often I give a book 5 stars because, for example, it’s far better than normal for the genre, even if it’s not “great literature”.

Switzy fully earns those 5 stars, without any asterisks. It’s fair to say that it’s sui generis without risking accusations of pretension. Emma Cline explores the experience of progressive Alzheimer’s from the perspective of someone going through the experience. Looking at it from the inside out.

Who’s to say she’s got it right? Not me, although it certainly comes across as authentic. Apparently she did a tremendous amount of research on the subject, and I think that shows.

Another Latin phrase that can be trotted out with regard to this book is memento mori. As David Hastings, a 70-something retired business executive struggling with dementia heads toward an appointment with assisted suicide, he reflects on the quality of his life.

Well, he does that when he can focus on the concept for more than a few seconds. His mind frequently drifts off, like an ice floe, as he thinks of it. Where am I? Who am I? Who are these other people?

His self-selected euthanasia will take place in Switzerland, a location where the event is not up for political grabs. You pay your money, you pass the tests to indicate that although you are well into dementia, you’re still with it enough to make a “sane” decision on the issue, and you show up on the appointed date.

David is attended to by his assistant/companion Cody, who handles everything requiring more than minimal concentration. Pays the bills, assuages David’s spontaneous fears, intervenes with his family, friends and service providers. He is, to say the least, long-suffering.

As I read, I couldn’t help wondering whether the book would land differently on seniors (my preferred term) than on younger people. I’m at the age where, on occasion, I cannot come up with a word or a name that should be right there for me - and yet other, far more arcane terms come readily to hand. Thankfully I don’t yet need a notebook with my name and address and the names of family members or destinations. :-). But who knows, down the road? And that road is a lot shorter than when I was 30.

One of the more amusing elements of the book is when David reflects on societal changes that befuddle him. In his world, no one wears a watch (unless it’s a Phillipe Patek). They use their phones for information like the time. (For his own safety, David’s own phone is pretty much useless except for playing solitaire. And telling time.). In my world, people still use watches, but they are almost always Apple Watches. Because there is never too much information that needs to be available at your fingertips. Or your wrist.

Here’s a more poignant version of a related concept:

“Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant state of fracture.”. And who should know better than David, given his circumstances?

In a book that is decidedly remote, making no effort to grab our emotions, the image of David’s awareness of his lack of true connection with others over the course of his life is perhaps the most touching. The need to connect with others physically has become important to him, and at the end he has this to offer: ”I am holding out my hand.”

The Booker shortlist will be announced tomorrow, September 22, and I will be very surprised if Switzy doesn’t make the cut.

[Stephen the Bookworm · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

[Ana WJ]

Oh wow. Got a lot of feels from this one

[Ari Levine · Rating 5 out of 5]

LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE

Stunned into silence, mind blown. Cline plunges us down a claustrophobic rabbit hole into the dimming and flickering consciousness of a slippery and unreliable narrator, an elderly man spending the last few days of his life in weightless European luxury. Diagnosed with Alzheimer's, David Hastings is desperate to die on his own terms, and has scheduled a euthanasia appointment in a Zurich clinic to end his life, before he is no longer compos mentis.

Once a successful mid-level finance executive, David has made a dimly-recalled career-ending mistake, and failed in the ordinary, banal ways as a husband, father, and friend. While he feels little active regret for a life poorly lived, his repressed memories keep surfacing, far more vivid than his vague disengagement with the present moment, where he is losing his mind, intermittently forgetful, and relaxing his grasp on external reality.

Accompanied by his young assistant and minder Cody, who is stage-managing his descent with limited compassion but corporate efficiency, David borrows his boss's old private jet for one final journey across the Atlantic. We realize the impossibility of his having a genuine, vulnerable conversation with the people he cannot admit he loves. Stopping in London, he can't bring himself to say goodbye to his narcissistic adult daughter, or to apologize to an old friend from boarding school. Being a baby-boomer American male has deformed his personality and repressed his sexuality, and alienated him from the technologically-obsessed younger generations.

While the subject matter was inescapably bleak, this was a hypnotic reading experience, leavened by ridiculous puns and uncanny juxtapositions. Cline narrates this with cold, clinical control, which that leaves sufficient room for the reader to be emotionally moved without manipulation or pathos. Highly recommended, and hoping this makes the shortlist.

Thanks to Random House and Netgalley for sharing a free ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
US publication date: September 8, 2026

[Maxwell]

Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
Thank you to Random House for the early review copy. All thoughts & opinions are my own.

When you are young, everyone encourages you to think about and plan for your future. But once you've reached the end of your life, all you can help but think about is the past. What if, while nearing the end, you were unable to keep a firm grip on reality? That is the struggle the protagonist, David Hastings, has while on the final leg of his earthly journey.

His mind is fracturing, the past and present intermingling in confusing ways that dredge up old memories and infuse with his present struggles.

Regrets of working too much--and all for what?--combine with the guilt of past wrongs, his disconnect from his own daughter morphs with the only close connection he has, his assistant, Cody.

Emma Cline does such an excellent job putting the reader directly in the mind of David. The prose reflects these dissonant thoughts and moments, as he jumps from scene to scene and location to location, sometimes losing the connective tissue that makes a life feel linear, instead of a messy map of days with no bearing on one another.

Simultaneously, there's this subtle commentary about David, in his mid-70s, and his generation feeling extremely disoriented and disconnected from what the world has become. He seems to wonder and starts to believe, would it just be better for him to be gone from something he no longer recognizes? How do we reconcile our past experiences with the present circumstances, and is there any hope for a future we can barely begin to imagine?

It's a heartbreaking, but complex look at aging, life choices, and relationships that I think marks a distinct shift in Emma Cline's career, one that makes me eager to see where she goes from here.

[Pedro · Rating 5 out of 5]

A person who reaches the point of suicide may be so consumed by their own pain and fear that there’s very little room left for anything else. By then, worrying about other people, caring about their needs or even fully imagining what comes afterwards may simply have become impossible.

But whatever is happening inside that person, the decision to end their life doesn’t end with them. For those left behind, it can become a kind of curse.

From that moment on, everything becomes about revisiting the days — sometimes even the years — that led to “the blackest day”.

Were there any signs?
Should we have paid more attention?
What did we miss?
Could we have done more?
Were we not understanding?

And so on and so forth, perhaps for the rest of their lives.

Another thing that can happen, especially when it’s a family member, is that a little seed of fear gets planted inside those left behind. After all, if it happened to them, could it happen to anyone? And who’s to say there isn’t some combination of genetics, circumstances and everything else we still don’t fully understand behind it? No one is really that special, right?

Right.

Now, let’s finally get to David Hastings, the main character in Switzy, shall we?

David is terrified. He’s becoming forgetful, and he already has a diagnosis that tells him exactly where this may be heading. He doesn’t want to wait until his mind, his independence and everything he recognises as himself are gone. So he makes a decision: he’s going to Switzerland to end his life before he believes it’s too late.

The novel opens with David already on that journey, on a plane heading towards Europe. From there, as he travels, he looks back over his life, his relationships, his mistakes, his losses and all the things that made him who he is. There’s wit here, and warmth, and humanity, but there’s also the constant knowledge of where he’s going and why.

Nothing can change his mind. It’s all about goodbyes now.

The future no longer exists.

And even the title of this masterful novel begins to sound like something being repeated in the distance:

Switzy, Switzy, Switzy…

Then closer.

Then louder.

Until there’s nowhere left to go.

Zap, zap, zap…

[Liz Hein · Rating 5 out of 5]

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.

[Matt · Rating 5 out of 5]

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!

[Celine · Rating 4 out of 5]

You’ll be hearing from my therapist, Emma Cline.

[Anetta · Rating 3.5 out of 5]

Atmospheric, foggy, grey, even kind of… damp. Everything here happens quietly, beneath the surface. I've read a lot of plot-heavy books recently; this chronicle of detachment and alienation is totally different.

By coincidence, I read it straight after Lisa Genova’s Still Alice. Both novels confront dementia and cognitive decline, but they couldn’t be more different. Because I personally lean toward Genova's warmer, more emotional approach, the contrast between those books made reading Switzy especially interesting. Unlike Alice, David isn't designed to elicit easy sympathy. At times, I even felt like I was observing behaviour like some laboratory exhibit, not a person.

Switzy is heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time. Lost in his own mental fog, with only games of solitaire to pass the time, David doesn’t have anyone he can 100% trust. His existence feels increasingly stripped of purpose. To the people around him (maybe even to himself), he has stopped being a full person, but rather just a stereotypical “old man”.
Bleak, unsettling, clinical - it is easily the darkest book I have read recently.

I highly recommend this novel, but it is not a perfect read if you are looking for purpose in life or need a “pick me up” book.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

[Lisa (NY) · Rating 5 out of 5]

[4.5] Inhabiting the porous mind of septuagenarian David Hastings as he prepares to die was scary and intense. Alzheimer's disease is at the top of my list of fears, and I needed to take frequent breaks from this book. Because Hastings, once a successful businessman, was not self-aware, his musings and thoughts about his personal life were both mesmerizing and obtuse. This is a gripping and thoughtful book that is brilliantly imagined by Cline.

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the early galley.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I shared with a friend that I was reading Emma Cline’s hypnotic new book, an exploration of an aging man’s last pilgrimage to an assisted suicide clinic in Switzerland, her cheeky comment was, “Let me know how it goes. For some reason, it’s a hot topic among us Boomers.”

And so it is. None of us know what we would do if we found ourselves in the throes of dementia, when our choice is between a forced brutal march toward mental and physical oblivion or the ability to exit on our own terms with some semblance of grace at the proverbial five minutes to midnight.

David Hastings, a retired executive in his 70s, chooses the latter option. I have read this author’s earlier three novels, and this book is a courageous step forward – psychologically astute, quietly tense, and powerful in its depiction of a man experiencing the terrifying slippage of identity. She succeeds in getting inside the head of someone with this diabolical disease.

With just enough acuity to manage one final visit with his daughter and grandson – with whom he has always had a reserved relationship – and an old classmate whom he has wronged – David has wrapped up his life. Together with his much-younger paid assistant, Cody, he lands in Zurich, and we travel with him as he willingly heads to the inevitable moment of his death. David is far from perfect – he has regrets, he has been selfish – but he is also convincingly real. Those who wonder what it must be like to decide to end one’s life with dignity in this manner will be astonished at the research done by the author.

There are bound to be distractors who will call this novel “too bleak”. Unfortunately, aging and death are topics that we often try to sweep under the rug. Hopefully, though, Switzy will find the wide readership it should – readers who look for novels that display thematic depth and complex themes and who understand that eventually, each of us will face the unsettling reality of fractured bodies and minds. The fact that Emma Cline could capture this reality so early in her life is amazing. I am thrilled to be an early reader and am grateful to Random House and Netgally for the access in exchange for an honest review.

[Richard Derus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Rating: 5* of five

LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE

The Publisher Says: 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.

I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.

My Review: First, read this:

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.

It's not the creeping horror of the smartphone-reading generation's inability to see the meaning-carrying blocks of text I still call paragraphs this time, it's the unmooring, the complexification of a dementia-raddled mind that has these single-line statements progressing down the page exactly as David's mind progresses down the legibility scale. He can parse less and less information, understand fewer and fewer ideas and concepts as his mind decouples meaning and experience.

A life lived amid the intense and complicated whirl of global finance. A life lived without awareness of what he was undervaluing, like most of us lead. A life that, now that he's losing his Self to the unraveling of dementia, he's decided to end...seemingly without reference to anyone else, a final act of solipsistic capitalism as there are no other stakeholders left in his world.

An uncomfortable indictment of the entirety of the life he's choosing to end.

It's a story I read in fits and starts because I kept feeling the need to step away from David so I could (re)gain perspective on him; is he, was he, only ever a monster or has he lost the parts of his self-constructed identity that were warm and inviting and needing and needed to the ravages now making him feel the need to leave his world?

I never found an answer. I wonder if he did, and so disliked what he found that assisted dying sounded like a way out of the emotional reckoning that is the end of life.

It felt to me that it would be well within his character to choose that last for those selfish reasons. I support his decision, no matter how he arrived at it, because he like all of us deserves to choose what kind of ending he gets. But wow...to leave it until you've decided you're going to die to make the amends you should have made long ago?

So very solipsistic, fearful, cowardly, and typical.

A fascinating story richly deserving a place in the Booker Prize conversation for this year. Also deserving of praise for contributing to multiple societal conversations we very, very badly need to have.

[vicky ꨄ︎ · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had a hard time connecting to the story due to the way it was written. There were points in the story where I just wanted to book to get to the point it was going to without all the sidetracked that were happening. The way the story has no quotation had thrown me off at the start but as I kept reading the book I learned to ignore it.

The story being in David pov was done nicely, especially where we get to learn about his last journey and thoughts before he kills himself. We get to read how he starts to lose his memory more and more as the books goes on and seemly how it affects him. There were times where I felt a profound sense of sorrow for him but then the storyline was overly drawn out and I lost that feeling. I admit the ending did have me in tears but did I sob my eyes out? No I haven’t mainly due to the reason that I didn’t feel overly connected to him.

I do feel like this book was unnecessarily long. Personally I feel like it should’ve been 250 pages max instead of 343. Especially when David was supposed to meet up with his daughter which took only 2 chapters to do so and meeting his friend took 1 chapter. The other part of the story was just his thoughts on everything that was happening.




Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review.



——————————————————————

𐙚⋆°. preread

I have requested this book based on the synopsis because it has gotten me intrigued so I’m curious to see what I’ll think of it.

[switterbug (Betsey)]

Long listed for the Booker 2026

David Hastings wants to die. In his seventies and retired, he is struggling with advanced dementia, losing track of memories, words, people, and what he ate for lunch. However, the distant past comes tumbling in in waves, in chunks, and we learn that David lived a dismal personal life. His job as a CFO was to identify and root out fraud, and yet he essentially lived a fraudulent life by not allowing his authenic self to come out of the shadows. That is what adds a heavy layer of melancholy on what is already a cheerless story. Living life to its emptiest.

For the entire novel, we live in David’s head, it’s from his POV. The sentences are halting and occasionally repetitive. There’s humor, too. David can’t remember the words “barbitol” so he says “Barbie doll.” The Sound of Music is a comical refrain, which of course I appreciated (I know every song, most of the dialogue).

We know from the start that he’s on his way to Zurich for a final goobye; he has a date with a high end euthanasia clinic before his mind turns to total Swiss cheese. A few stops to visit his daughter and grandson in London, and to hopefully connect with his boarding school friend, Tom, who he betrayed and hasn't seen in over fifty years. Despite that, Tom has lived rent-free in his head for most of that time, and occupies a dense space in these final days.

It’s a very Bookerish book, with stream of consciousness prose structured to mirror his confusion and memory loss. I can’t say I “loved” reading it—it is grim, heavy in context but done with a surface lightness, so it moves apace. If you are familiar with the comics of Nemo from Slumberland (I was not), you may recognize the cover art. Nemo is one of the prominet motifs, especially in the latter half of the story.

My dear and loving mother-in-law now suffers from dementia. She’s a different person than she was five years ago. When my reading life and real life reflect each other, it can be suffocating to keep those pages turning. I had to put it down for a few days, but I soldiered on through. The last chapter is sublime.

I can't seem to land on a rating for this book, but I do recommend that you read it.