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Det vi aldri sier
Artie Dam tilbringer dagene med å undervise amerikansk historie på videregående, korrigere elevenes uvitenhet og gi et vennlig ord til de som trenger det mest. Han tilbringer fritiden med å seile i vakre Massachusetts Bay, eller være sammen med sin voksne sønn og kona han har vært gift med i mer enn tre årtier. Og så en dag får Artie vite at livet har holdt en hemmelighet skjult for ham, en hemmelighet som snur hele hans verden opp ned.
Det vi aldri sier er en gripende meditasjon over ensomhet, vennskap, foreldrerollen og viktigheten av sannhet i en verden som har kullseilt. Med utsøkt prosa og dyp innsikt tar Elizabeth Strout for seg én enkelt manns frykt og ensomhet og gjør den universell – og fanger i samme åndedrag den mystiske kjærligheten som opprettholder og bærer oss alle.
Det vi aldri sier er en gripende meditasjon over ensomhet, vennskap, foreldrerollen og viktigheten av sannhet i en verden som har kullseilt. Med utsøkt prosa og dyp innsikt tar Elizabeth Strout for seg én enkelt manns frykt og ensomhet og gjør den universell – og fanger i samme åndedrag den mystiske kjærligheten som opprettholder og bærer oss alle.
228 pages, Hardcover
First published May 5, 2026
About the author
Elizabeth Strout
53 books18.7k followersElizabeth Strout is the author of several novels, including: Abide with Me, a national bestseller and BookSense pick, and Amy and Isabelle, which won the Los Angeles Times Art Seidenbaum Award for First Fiction and the Chicago Tribune Heartland Prize, and was a finalist for the PEN/Faulkner Award and the Orange Prize in England. In 2009 she was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for her book Olive Kitteridge. Her short stories have been published in a number of magazines, including The New Yorker. She teaches at the Master of Fine Arts program at Queens University of Charlotte.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 10,848 reviews
May 9, 2026
“You know that saying, ‘No man is an island,’ well, Reg thought that was baloney. He said we were all islands.”
This could be the most feelings I've ever had in 208 pages.
I'm familiar with Elizabeth Strout but I'm way behind on reading her work; something I should probably rectify if this novel is any indication. The Things We Never Say is just a beautiful character/life study, rich with complexity and with a heartbreaking use of prolepsis to foreshadow what is to come.
That quote I opened with is important, because much of this story is about loneliness and alienation in all its forms. Marriages that feel like two unfamiliar people living together, children that have drifted away from their parents, friendships divided by the political climate in the U.S., the understanding that the truths you counted on might be crumbling around you.
Artie's worldview is upended, both by major changes on the political stage and by events in his personal life, making him come to the conclusion that the life he thought he had, the country he thought he lived in, may never have existed at all.
It's not overly sentimental, but I should caution that it is quite depressing. I felt deeply for Artie. He's a very lovable character— a beloved history teacher who truly cares about his students and goes out of his way to help them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: teachers do not get paid enough.
There are many things that Artie never says, but dispersed throughout are also the unsaid things of many side characters. Strout's talent seems to be in making you care very deeply about her characters in such a short amount of time. I mean this genuinely— I will remember some of the characters that were barely on page in this book more than other ones I've spent 500 pages with.
This is not a book that made me cry, but one where I felt such an overwhelming bittersweet sadness on every page.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
It will always be a source of frustration for me that I can love Elizabeth Strout's writing so much but spectacularly fail to explain why.
May 6, 2026
Every eight months, someone publishes an essay announcing the rediscovery of Stoner. By now, John Williams’s 1965 novel about an English professor has been lost and found as often as my car keys.
I pray Elizabeth Strout’s new novel, The Things We Never Say, enjoys the same cycle of eternal rediscovery. It’s richer for being less self-consciously polished than Williams’s story. Taking place outside the worlds of Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton, it’s a slender classic about a high school teacher almost too tenderhearted for this coarsening world. If you’re a teacher, you must get a copy of The Things We Never Say, and if you love a teacher, you must give them one.
We’re not in Maine anymore. This story opens in Massachusetts in 2024 as the nation is slipping back into Donald Trump’s maw. Artie Dam, once named Teacher of the Year, has taught 11th-grade history for decades, but the atmosphere in the country and in his classroom seems new and ominous. Although the kids still adore him — “Damn-dam, the greatest man,” they call out to him — they seem frightened and anxious for reasons they can’t articulate.
Artie feels the same way, worse even. The nation’s cruel political rhetoric depresses him. He’s tipped into a slough of loneliness he hadn’t realized was pooling within him. And the departure of a good friend makes him recognize how few he has left. (In a wry meta-reference, Artie remembers reading Olive Kitteridge — “some book about a crotchety old woman from Maine” who understood that people can die of loneliness.) Coming back from a party one....
To read the rest of this review, go to Substack:
https://roncharles.substack.com/p/eli...
I pray Elizabeth Strout’s new novel, The Things We Never Say, enjoys the same cycle of eternal rediscovery. It’s richer for being less self-consciously polished than Williams’s story. Taking place outside the worlds of Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton, it’s a slender classic about a high school teacher almost too tenderhearted for this coarsening world. If you’re a teacher, you must get a copy of The Things We Never Say, and if you love a teacher, you must give them one.
We’re not in Maine anymore. This story opens in Massachusetts in 2024 as the nation is slipping back into Donald Trump’s maw. Artie Dam, once named Teacher of the Year, has taught 11th-grade history for decades, but the atmosphere in the country and in his classroom seems new and ominous. Although the kids still adore him — “Damn-dam, the greatest man,” they call out to him — they seem frightened and anxious for reasons they can’t articulate.
Artie feels the same way, worse even. The nation’s cruel political rhetoric depresses him. He’s tipped into a slough of loneliness he hadn’t realized was pooling within him. And the departure of a good friend makes him recognize how few he has left. (In a wry meta-reference, Artie remembers reading Olive Kitteridge — “some book about a crotchety old woman from Maine” who understood that people can die of loneliness.) Coming back from a party one....
To read the rest of this review, go to Substack:
https://roncharles.substack.com/p/eli...
April 5, 2026
If you want strong political opinions permeating just about every page and character, this is the novel for you. Strout clearly feels life as we know it is coming to an end. Not what I read fiction for. I can do sad and depressing but this is so over the top and frankly comes across as a bit ridiculous.
May 17, 2026
Every book title has a meaning. Readers will eventually discover this title is no different. It speaks directly to the sometimes tragic silences between people and the unspoken truths that quietly dictate lives.
What happens when secrets kept and a caustic political environment change our view of the world?
I couldn’t wait to read this one. And when it finally came from my local library, I was thrilled.
And then, I began reading.
This book was a quick, fast-paced read at only 203 pages, yet it also felt emotionally draining. It is definitely not my favorite by this author.
Throughout the novel, I found myself constantly wrestling with its tone. The story felt deeply melancholy, steeped in a heaviness that was more depressing than uplifting.
"Do you believe in free will?"
This question is repeatedly (ad nauseam) contemplated and asked throughout the narrative by Artie Dam, the protagonist.
His obsession led me to wonder: what is the best way to describe free will?
Research tells us that humans have the capacity to make genuine informed choices.
So, why is Artie Dam so consumed by this idea?
And why did it matter to me as a reader?
The best answer I can give is this: I wanted to care about Artie Dam. And, at times I did. But I was also concerned and confused by what was happening to him. I kept wondering, with so much seemingly going for him, why did he feel so unhappy?
Was it really about the secret eventually revealed? Because so much seemed to happen to him before the reveal. Or, was it the fundamental isolation of being alive, unspoken grief, unresolved trauma, and a rapidly changing world?
Could I relate, or perhaps be empathetic?
After all, as readers immerse themselves in the narrative, the heavy atmosphere of a changing world filled with societal and political fractures is palpable.
Strout sets the story against the impending 2024 presidential election; while also reflecting on how the pandemic has fundamentally altered the spirit of Artie’s outlook as a well-respected history teacher facing a cascade of personal revelations and disappointments.
Knowing the election outcome as we do, how could we not relate?
Mostly, my struggles were with Artie Dam and his approach to life — even as some of his actions proved wonderfully heartfelt through other characters’ reactions to him.
Because everyone loves Artie Dam, but it is far less clear that Artie Dam loves himself — or his life, for that matter.
And yet, how can that be?
There were occasional moments of relief that may elicit a knowing smile from longtime Strout readers, such as Artie’s reference on page 33 to Strout’s own book, “Olive Kitteridge.” Yet even that moment circles back to one of that book’s heaviest themes: profound loneliness.
That feeling hangs oppressively over both the characters and the beautiful Massachusetts coastal setting.
Some readers may connect deeply with the book’s introspective nature. For me, however, the constant brooding became overwhelming.
Which leads me to share some possible triggers: suicide ideation, social class, bullying, disappointment between parents and children, secret loves, shoplifting and current political climate. References to the aftermath of the 2024 election will likely affect readers differently depending on their own experiences.
“The election came and went. Half of the country was stunned, the other half jubilant.”
Isn’t that the truth?!😳
Ultimately, while I appreciated the themes Strout explored, the novel’s persistent emotional heaviness made this more of a 3-star read for me.
Obviously, I am an outlier. So, please read other reviews to gain other perspectives.
“Olive Kitteridge” review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
What happens when secrets kept and a caustic political environment change our view of the world?
I couldn’t wait to read this one. And when it finally came from my local library, I was thrilled.
And then, I began reading.
This book was a quick, fast-paced read at only 203 pages, yet it also felt emotionally draining. It is definitely not my favorite by this author.
Throughout the novel, I found myself constantly wrestling with its tone. The story felt deeply melancholy, steeped in a heaviness that was more depressing than uplifting.
"Do you believe in free will?"
This question is repeatedly (ad nauseam) contemplated and asked throughout the narrative by Artie Dam, the protagonist.
His obsession led me to wonder: what is the best way to describe free will?
Research tells us that humans have the capacity to make genuine informed choices.
So, why is Artie Dam so consumed by this idea?
And why did it matter to me as a reader?
The best answer I can give is this: I wanted to care about Artie Dam. And, at times I did. But I was also concerned and confused by what was happening to him. I kept wondering, with so much seemingly going for him, why did he feel so unhappy?
Was it really about the secret eventually revealed? Because so much seemed to happen to him before the reveal. Or, was it the fundamental isolation of being alive, unspoken grief, unresolved trauma, and a rapidly changing world?
Could I relate, or perhaps be empathetic?
After all, as readers immerse themselves in the narrative, the heavy atmosphere of a changing world filled with societal and political fractures is palpable.
Strout sets the story against the impending 2024 presidential election; while also reflecting on how the pandemic has fundamentally altered the spirit of Artie’s outlook as a well-respected history teacher facing a cascade of personal revelations and disappointments.
Knowing the election outcome as we do, how could we not relate?
Mostly, my struggles were with Artie Dam and his approach to life — even as some of his actions proved wonderfully heartfelt through other characters’ reactions to him.
Because everyone loves Artie Dam, but it is far less clear that Artie Dam loves himself — or his life, for that matter.
And yet, how can that be?
There were occasional moments of relief that may elicit a knowing smile from longtime Strout readers, such as Artie’s reference on page 33 to Strout’s own book, “Olive Kitteridge.” Yet even that moment circles back to one of that book’s heaviest themes: profound loneliness.
That feeling hangs oppressively over both the characters and the beautiful Massachusetts coastal setting.
Some readers may connect deeply with the book’s introspective nature. For me, however, the constant brooding became overwhelming.
Which leads me to share some possible triggers: suicide ideation, social class, bullying, disappointment between parents and children, secret loves, shoplifting and current political climate. References to the aftermath of the 2024 election will likely affect readers differently depending on their own experiences.
“The election came and went. Half of the country was stunned, the other half jubilant.”
Isn’t that the truth?!😳
Ultimately, while I appreciated the themes Strout explored, the novel’s persistent emotional heaviness made this more of a 3-star read for me.
Obviously, I am an outlier. So, please read other reviews to gain other perspectives.
“Olive Kitteridge” review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
May 15, 2026
THE THINGS WE NEVER SAY is a devastating book: devastatingly beautiful, devastatingly smart, and devastatingly kind. Meet Artie Dam, revered high school history teacher in a Boston suburb in 2024, who is just starting to lose his grip. His grown son's marriage is unraveling, his relationship with his own wife has gotten strangely prickly, and some of his students in this post-Covid world have become brittle. Moreover, if he is not clinically depressed, he is beginning to find suicide an increasingly attractive siren. He and his wife and their son are all harboring secrets, things they never say. This novel precisely, beautifully, and with unexpected power captures the fragility within all of us. And that last act? Moving (even gutting), harrowing, and spot-on. As always, Elizabeth Strout really sticks the landing. (Also? I want all of us to start wearing T shirts that say things like, “I stand with Artie Dam,” or “Danny Marino ain’t just a jock,” or “Let’s get to work!” Or, perhaps, a ball cap that says, “I keep my F-U’s here.”)
May 17, 2026
0.5 stars
I was shocked at how much I hated this book. If the worst traits of Gen X were a novel, it would be this.
1) The main character, Artie—a fifty-seven-year-old man—is just figuring out what introspection is and it’s exhausting.
2) Every single character is described by their body size. There is absolutely no reason for that.
3) It takes place during the election and all the characters do are say things like, “gee, it’s really too bad about Gaza” or “oh, so depressing about the election.” I get that there’s a whole generation of well-off white Boomers and Gen-X’ers who are upset about the election and feel powerless, but something about the way the author wrote about it felt slimy. Oh, and one of Artie’s friends is a Trump supporter, but they just don’t talk politics so it’s fine—ugh.
4) One of the characters is a therapist, but the author clearly has NEVER MET A THERAPIST IN HER LIFE, because this therapist character does things like:
-Freely divulge details of her clients’ sessions
-Tell a client that she shouldn’t tell her husband she’s having an affair, because what good would that do (?!)
-Shame someone for being a kleptomaniac
-Unironically call a psychiatric institution “the looney bin”
5) It’s full of cheesy “inspirational” moments between Artie and his high school students (who don’t act like Gen-Z high-schoolers AT ALL). Like, Artie tells his students to ~believe in themselves~ and this transforms their life sort of bullshit.
May 9, 2026
I have been a HUGE fan of Elizabeth Strout’s novels and all the recurring characters that pass through them (Olive Kitteridge, Lucy Barton, and my true love Bob Burgess.) When I heard that her newest novel would introduce us to a new world of unforgettable characters, I couldn’t wait to read it.
So, imagine my utter dismay when, in “The Things We Never Say”, Strout gets political. The novel starts shortly before the 2024 presidential election, and through her characters, Strout makes her political views very clear.
I kept reading, hoping that once she’d “had her say” the book would concentrate more on the characters and plot (which is riveting), but the political doom and gloom continue throughout, and intensifies with the Epilogue.
This is going to be super disappointing for readers who come to Strout’s novels to be uplifted by the humanity of her characters. This is the most depressing novel I’ve read in years.
So, imagine my utter dismay when, in “The Things We Never Say”, Strout gets political. The novel starts shortly before the 2024 presidential election, and through her characters, Strout makes her political views very clear.
I kept reading, hoping that once she’d “had her say” the book would concentrate more on the characters and plot (which is riveting), but the political doom and gloom continue throughout, and intensifies with the Epilogue.
This is going to be super disappointing for readers who come to Strout’s novels to be uplifted by the humanity of her characters. This is the most depressing novel I’ve read in years.
Read
May 7, 2026I picked this up hoping for a poignant, character‑driven read with some insight into human connection, and for the first part, it delivered. The book has some really good nuggets about how little we can ever truly know each other, and how even the people closest to us can feel like strangers. It asks interesting questions about intimacy, loneliness, and the limits of understanding, and those sections really worked for me.
But then the story swerves hard into politics, and that completely lost me. Even if I happen to agree with some of the ideas, the way they’re presented is so on‑the‑nose and polarizing that it felt like being lectured instead of told a story. I read fiction to escape that kind of discourse; if I wanted more “end of civilization” commentary, I could get it for free on Facebook.
The tonal shift from quiet exploration of human connection to overt political messaging was a huge missed connection for me as a reader.
In the end, the thoughtful, intimate moments couldn’t outweigh how didactic and heavy‑handed the political sections felt.
But then the story swerves hard into politics, and that completely lost me. Even if I happen to agree with some of the ideas, the way they’re presented is so on‑the‑nose and polarizing that it felt like being lectured instead of told a story. I read fiction to escape that kind of discourse; if I wanted more “end of civilization” commentary, I could get it for free on Facebook.
The tonal shift from quiet exploration of human connection to overt political messaging was a huge missed connection for me as a reader.
In the end, the thoughtful, intimate moments couldn’t outweigh how didactic and heavy‑handed the political sections felt.
May 29, 2026
Strout hasn’t disappointed me yet. She takes every day people and puts them into a story that is so relatable. Characters we can connect with.
Artie is 57. He's depressed. Thinks of suicide. Then a near miss happens. Life looks brighter. But then a discovery is made. And the brightness dims.
Strout writes of loneliness and grief; and the joy found in memories; in relationships. There are words and thoughts not spoken-often hanging like dark clouds threatening to disrupt. But, these people are connected - often by unspoken truths. Makes one wonder do we really know ourselves and the people who surround us? And do we hide things to protect others or to protect ourselves?
It was a profound read and I will miss Artie Dam immensely.
But, much as I enjoyed Strout’s character driven story, the political angle it takes, I could honestly do without.
4.25⭐️
Artie is 57. He's depressed. Thinks of suicide. Then a near miss happens. Life looks brighter. But then a discovery is made. And the brightness dims.
Strout writes of loneliness and grief; and the joy found in memories; in relationships. There are words and thoughts not spoken-often hanging like dark clouds threatening to disrupt. But, these people are connected - often by unspoken truths. Makes one wonder do we really know ourselves and the people who surround us? And do we hide things to protect others or to protect ourselves?
It was a profound read and I will miss Artie Dam immensely.
But, much as I enjoyed Strout’s character driven story, the political angle it takes, I could honestly do without.
4.25⭐️
May 7, 2026
Artie Dam reminds me in some ways of Strout’s Olive Kitteridge. He’s also a teacher who makes an impact on his students, but without the edginess of Olive’s personality. Artie mentions reading a book about a “crotchety old woman from Maine” who understood that people can die of loneliness.” I loved the reference . Artie who seems to bring light to most people around him is living in the darkness of being lonely. I felt for him as he navigates this feeling of despair about what is happening around him and for the personal challenges he endures, contemplating the unspeakable.
For such a short book at just 224 pages, there’s the gamut of many of life’s difficulties that touch people- mental illness, suicides, death, marital infidelity, depression, loneliness. There are references to the state of the country reflected by the election of 2024 without mentioning names, and concerns over the future of our country and the world, antisemitism on the soccer field, anti immigrant sentiments in the classroom.
Artie wants to know if there is such a thing as free will, why people don’t know really each other. I loved Artie’s relationship with his son, and I loved his friendships, most notably with a supportive friend who he discovers doesn’t agree politically with him, yet they are friends . Strout gets us, gets what the human condition is about in so many ways. She takes us to the past and even how things will be in the future in a seamless way. She’s at her best here showing us that the connection people make with each other is the most valuable thing we have.
For such a short book at just 224 pages, there’s the gamut of many of life’s difficulties that touch people- mental illness, suicides, death, marital infidelity, depression, loneliness. There are references to the state of the country reflected by the election of 2024 without mentioning names, and concerns over the future of our country and the world, antisemitism on the soccer field, anti immigrant sentiments in the classroom.
Artie wants to know if there is such a thing as free will, why people don’t know really each other. I loved Artie’s relationship with his son, and I loved his friendships, most notably with a supportive friend who he discovers doesn’t agree politically with him, yet they are friends . Strout gets us, gets what the human condition is about in so many ways. She takes us to the past and even how things will be in the future in a seamless way. She’s at her best here showing us that the connection people make with each other is the most valuable thing we have.
May 7, 2026
Artie Dam is a long married, 57 yr old high school history teacher who lives near Massachusetts Bay.
He is such an endearing man and his big problem is that he is lonely.
His other problem, like many of us… the 2024 election and what it means for our country.
There is also a family secret that he becomes aware of that would take anyone down… but Artie is so kind and compassionate that he just rides it out.
I love Artie.
I love Elizabeth Strout’s writing every time!
He is such an endearing man and his big problem is that he is lonely.
His other problem, like many of us… the 2024 election and what it means for our country.
There is also a family secret that he becomes aware of that would take anyone down… but Artie is so kind and compassionate that he just rides it out.
I love Artie.
I love Elizabeth Strout’s writing every time!
June 8, 2026
Anyone who has read the Olive Kitteridge or Lucy Barton series will recognize the voice of Pulitzer Prize-winning author Elizabeth Strout in the first paragraph of The Things We Never Say.
Strout moves freely in and out of the musings of her characters: a plumber who's just learned his wife is having an affair; a concert pianist; an unhappy teenage student; a 57-year-old high school history teacher.
Occasionally, the narrator steps forward in italics, the way a neighbor might lean over a backyard fence to share a bit of wisdom or a story.
This roving, generous omniscience is one of the book’s great pleasures.
Tender, observational, and full of Strout's signature attention to everyday life in a quiet New England town, by the final pages you feel less like a reader and more like a witness to an (extra)ordinary life.
May 18, 2026
Long Listed for the Booker Prize 2026
Something is missing within Artie Dam’s spirit. A celebrated high school history teacher, beloved by his pupils, Artie is quietly struggling with suicidal ideation. It’s the summer of 2024, a cloud of dread closely hovering. At home, he doesn’t feel seen by his wife, Evie; his son, Rob, has been distant since a tragic car accident ten years ago. Readers are quickly placed inside the battle of Artie’s depression.
Concerned with whether we have free will, Artie can’t get an answer when he asks friends and family. What he gets in response are blank faces. He’s more temperamental at home, disappointed that people aren’t honest with each other. A shattering family secret has crushed him, and it’s death by a thousand cuts.
When Artie turns to a self-shaming behavior, a kind of “I-don’t-know-what-made-me-do-it” act of defiance, we know. Artie’s emptiness has been filled to capacity. Strout’s themes of loss and the search for connection are well-lit with the grey dimness that she masters so well. Artie’s fragility has been building for years, “an accretion of loneliness.”
Olive-world is either closed or put aside for these new characters and the Boston Bay. Artie is an unsettled Everyman near retirement, who survives one trauma after another. He and Evie now live with a lie, but Evie doesn’t know that Artie knows her deception. After 57 years, Artie’s sense of reality explodes, and he ponders that “...no matter what we think we know we can never fully understand how we appear to others.” But, there’s an upside; the further the distance from his wife, the closer he gets to his son.
Readers who are damning rather than Dam-ing Strout’s latest work have misunderstood. The nation is polarized and fractured, that’s a fact, and the narrative contains a few election remarks. Despite that, there’s minimal politics, a passage on a page. So for those that slammed this novel, you lot have lost the plot. Strout struck gold, she reached our collective hearts.
Artie, we’re listening, we got you.
Something is missing within Artie Dam’s spirit. A celebrated high school history teacher, beloved by his pupils, Artie is quietly struggling with suicidal ideation. It’s the summer of 2024, a cloud of dread closely hovering. At home, he doesn’t feel seen by his wife, Evie; his son, Rob, has been distant since a tragic car accident ten years ago. Readers are quickly placed inside the battle of Artie’s depression.
Concerned with whether we have free will, Artie can’t get an answer when he asks friends and family. What he gets in response are blank faces. He’s more temperamental at home, disappointed that people aren’t honest with each other. A shattering family secret has crushed him, and it’s death by a thousand cuts.
When Artie turns to a self-shaming behavior, a kind of “I-don’t-know-what-made-me-do-it” act of defiance, we know. Artie’s emptiness has been filled to capacity. Strout’s themes of loss and the search for connection are well-lit with the grey dimness that she masters so well. Artie’s fragility has been building for years, “an accretion of loneliness.”
Olive-world is either closed or put aside for these new characters and the Boston Bay. Artie is an unsettled Everyman near retirement, who survives one trauma after another. He and Evie now live with a lie, but Evie doesn’t know that Artie knows her deception. After 57 years, Artie’s sense of reality explodes, and he ponders that “...no matter what we think we know we can never fully understand how we appear to others.” But, there’s an upside; the further the distance from his wife, the closer he gets to his son.
Readers who are damning rather than Dam-ing Strout’s latest work have misunderstood. The nation is polarized and fractured, that’s a fact, and the narrative contains a few election remarks. Despite that, there’s minimal politics, a passage on a page. So for those that slammed this novel, you lot have lost the plot. Strout struck gold, she reached our collective hearts.
Artie, we’re listening, we got you.
Read
June 8, 2026A kind book. I bet Fredrik Backman fans would find a lot to like here.
May 8, 2026
I was immersed in the beautiful writing until I was yanked right out if the world Strout had created by the political self righteousness. I am so sick of politics and I read fiction to escape the vitriol and posturing. Stephen King feels the need to do the same and it's very distracting from the story. We get it - you are on the "right side of history". Everyone who doesn't agree with you is evil and hateful. And it's apparent that some writers only want to write for the people who agree with them politically. I just wish we could go back to a time where we could read fiction without knowing how the author votes in the current elections. I gave two stars instead of one because the writing is so GOOD. But I could not finish.
This is just my opinion- please don't try and "educate" me. I don't want to read OR DISCUSS politics so I will be busy starting a new novel...
This is just my opinion- please don't try and "educate" me. I don't want to read OR DISCUSS politics so I will be busy starting a new novel...
May 9, 2026
If I want political opinions, I’ll watch cable news! In The Things We Never Say, Elizabeth Strout slaps us in the face with her view on the state of our country and the leaders of both industry and nations. I expect more from such a talented author.
July 27, 2026
The Things We Never Say is a character-driven slow-burn that focuses on 57-year-old MC Artie Dam, a high school history teacher who cares deeply about his students. In fact, he seems to feel more in control in his classroom with his students than he does at home with his family.
Artie is sensitive and feels deeply about most things. He puts on a good front and thinks the way he feels on the inside is invisible to others on the outside. Then one day a secret is shared with him that rocks him to his core...
The Things We Never Say is a quiet character study with an emotional punch. All the characters are flawed, especially Artie. Strout writes a story that's thought-provoking and unsettling, deceptively subtle yet mesmerizing, blending topics of kindness, anxiety, and lingering questions about free will.
An immersive read, the audiobook is narrated by Robert Petkoff, whose voice felt overly animated. Strout's writing style has always felt on the dry side to me, but my preference with this book was to stop listening and only read. Her writing is simple and easy, and it fit this story perfectly.
The Things We Never Say left me with a couple of niggles. First, I don't like political talk in fiction, and I think this book would be fine or better without it. Second, this story needed more time. It felt rushed at the end, and there seemed to be much more to unpack. With that said, this is a book I very much enjoyed, especially Artie!
4⭐
Artie is sensitive and feels deeply about most things. He puts on a good front and thinks the way he feels on the inside is invisible to others on the outside. Then one day a secret is shared with him that rocks him to his core...
The Things We Never Say is a quiet character study with an emotional punch. All the characters are flawed, especially Artie. Strout writes a story that's thought-provoking and unsettling, deceptively subtle yet mesmerizing, blending topics of kindness, anxiety, and lingering questions about free will.
An immersive read, the audiobook is narrated by Robert Petkoff, whose voice felt overly animated. Strout's writing style has always felt on the dry side to me, but my preference with this book was to stop listening and only read. Her writing is simple and easy, and it fit this story perfectly.
The Things We Never Say left me with a couple of niggles. First, I don't like political talk in fiction, and I think this book would be fine or better without it. Second, this story needed more time. It felt rushed at the end, and there seemed to be much more to unpack. With that said, this is a book I very much enjoyed, especially Artie!
4⭐
November 20, 2025
I Just turned the last page of The Things We Never Say, by the incomparable Elizabeth Strout. I, like Artie Dam's students, thoroughly loved spending time with this open-hearted, caring man.
At the start of the novel, Artie is unhappy. He attends a pretentious neighbourhood party and becomes tired of all the small talk and inane chatter. People never say what they really want to say: they hide their true feelings and utter inanities instead.
The recent U.S. election is a recurring topic in this novel. The author, through Artie, projects her fear that the U.S. will be forever changed and damaged by this new president's reign. - and I totally agree with her. People have become paranoid. Civil liberties are non-existent. Tyranny reigns where once individual rights and freedoms were paramount. Money is the only thing that matters and the pursuit of wealth and imperialism seems to excuse all kinds of atrocities. Artie at one point comes to realize that when he married his "upper class" wife, he turned his back on his relationship with his beloved working -class father.
We are aware that Artie is deeply unhappy and is contemplating suicide. We feel the heaviness of his disenchantment with the world, but then, thankfully, a certain incident happens, and Artie is reborn - indeed, he is happy to be alive.
But his newfound love for life is threatened when his son, Rob, reveals a secret about his mother, Evie. Artie's peace of mind is once again under attack, but Artie, being the wonderful soul that he is, takes the revelation in stride. I was so proud of Artie! We need decent, good men like Artie in this world. Things become dire for Artie once again. Artie's job is in jeopardy when the principal of the high school where he teaches dies. The new principal does not approve of Artie and the old-guard teaching staff. Artie's resulting depression very likely had a physical component to it, as we discover in the final pages of the story.
I loved this book. Elizabeth Strout bravely spoke her truth through Artie. BRAVO! I'm giving this book 100 Stars, because it takes courage to stand up for what you believe in these days.
Respect!!!!
100 bright and shiny stars for this beacon of truth!
At the start of the novel, Artie is unhappy. He attends a pretentious neighbourhood party and becomes tired of all the small talk and inane chatter. People never say what they really want to say: they hide their true feelings and utter inanities instead.
The recent U.S. election is a recurring topic in this novel. The author, through Artie, projects her fear that the U.S. will be forever changed and damaged by this new president's reign. - and I totally agree with her. People have become paranoid. Civil liberties are non-existent. Tyranny reigns where once individual rights and freedoms were paramount. Money is the only thing that matters and the pursuit of wealth and imperialism seems to excuse all kinds of atrocities. Artie at one point comes to realize that when he married his "upper class" wife, he turned his back on his relationship with his beloved working -class father.
We are aware that Artie is deeply unhappy and is contemplating suicide. We feel the heaviness of his disenchantment with the world, but then, thankfully, a certain incident happens, and Artie is reborn - indeed, he is happy to be alive.
But his newfound love for life is threatened when his son, Rob, reveals a secret about his mother, Evie. Artie's peace of mind is once again under attack, but Artie, being the wonderful soul that he is, takes the revelation in stride. I was so proud of Artie! We need decent, good men like Artie in this world. Things become dire for Artie once again. Artie's job is in jeopardy when the principal of the high school where he teaches dies. The new principal does not approve of Artie and the old-guard teaching staff. Artie's resulting depression very likely had a physical component to it, as we discover in the final pages of the story.
I loved this book. Elizabeth Strout bravely spoke her truth through Artie. BRAVO! I'm giving this book 100 Stars, because it takes courage to stand up for what you believe in these days.
Respect!!!!
100 bright and shiny stars for this beacon of truth!
July 29, 2026
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
There probably comes a day in every man's life when he is looking at himself and at the world around him, and he has to ask if he or the world is on the right path. As I grow older, I want to think that I'm learning not to feel afraid of this moment. The answer is important, of course, and you can't ever be entirely ready for a crisis, especially if it's created by your own mind, but you can only hope that you did your best to be a good man, or that you can still change the direction of your life.
"I did not want to die, I just did not want to live."
"His country was committing suicide."
Artie is a good man. He is a good father, a good husband, the teacher of the year, a colleague who is always sought out for an honest conversation, a friend who won't judge you, and yet he feels like something isn't right. He thinks about suicide so seriously that it seems the only reason why he didn't do it yet is because he couldn't find a way to make it look like an accident. But then an accident happens, and he discovers that he doesn't want to die, but wants to change something, wants to talk about the things that he feels and that people around him never say. And when his son shares a secret, Artie discovers that while the relationship with his son has opened up again, sharing his feelings to certain people around him hasn't become easier.
"It was a private thing, to be alive. He understood this now."
This is a novel about a crisis, with themes like suicide and fascism present more than other issues, but the beauty of this novel from Elizabeth Strout lies in the little details and interactions that Artie has with so many characters. It reminded me in a way about Small Things Like These (coincidentally another novel with "things" in the title), and the message remains the same: listen to your heart and do the right thing. You maybe can't change the system, but if your actions helped another person, it is enough.
There probably comes a day in every man's life when he is looking at himself and at the world around him, and he has to ask if he or the world is on the right path. As I grow older, I want to think that I'm learning not to feel afraid of this moment. The answer is important, of course, and you can't ever be entirely ready for a crisis, especially if it's created by your own mind, but you can only hope that you did your best to be a good man, or that you can still change the direction of your life.
"I did not want to die, I just did not want to live."
"His country was committing suicide."
Artie is a good man. He is a good father, a good husband, the teacher of the year, a colleague who is always sought out for an honest conversation, a friend who won't judge you, and yet he feels like something isn't right. He thinks about suicide so seriously that it seems the only reason why he didn't do it yet is because he couldn't find a way to make it look like an accident. But then an accident happens, and he discovers that he doesn't want to die, but wants to change something, wants to talk about the things that he feels and that people around him never say. And when his son shares a secret, Artie discovers that while the relationship with his son has opened up again, sharing his feelings to certain people around him hasn't become easier.
"It was a private thing, to be alive. He understood this now."
This is a novel about a crisis, with themes like suicide and fascism present more than other issues, but the beauty of this novel from Elizabeth Strout lies in the little details and interactions that Artie has with so many characters. It reminded me in a way about Small Things Like These (coincidentally another novel with "things" in the title), and the message remains the same: listen to your heart and do the right thing. You maybe can't change the system, but if your actions helped another person, it is enough.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
For the past several years Strout has created a beautiful tapestry of novels about the intersecting lives of a number of her characters – most notably Lucy Barton, Olive Kitteridge and Bob Burgess in titles such as “Oh William!”, “Lucy by the Sea” and “Tell Me Everything”. So it's notable that she has written a new novel which is entirely outside of this set of books – although keen readers will notice there is an easter egg within “The Things We Never Say” that refers to a previous Strout novel and definitively establishes that this story is entirely outside of that fictional universe. Though the setting and characters are somewhat different, Strout's characteristic style of fiction persists. We follow idiosyncratic characters having conversations and privately contemplating the world. The narrative dips into the past and gives small snapshots into the future. The author has such a moving way of representing her characters' thoughts where memories intrude upon the present to produce a ruminative and lightly philosophical sensation. The genius of Strout's writing is that it is both highly relatable and profound as it guides the reader through what matters the most.
This new story focuses on Artie Dam, a history teacher who lives on the coast of Massachusetts. He's been married to his wife Evie over thirty years, has an adult son and enjoys taking meditative solo afternoon sailing trips. And in this strange new post-pandemic world Artie finds himself preoccupied with a sense of loneliness and the question of whether we really have free will. Not only does he contemplate the possibility of incompatibilism but he boldly raises this issue in casual conversation. Naturally many people are quick to bat away discussing such a ponderous question. Gradually Artie finds truer understanding with the people in his life by daring to speak about things which aren't normally verbalised, but this isn't a sure method of achieving real connections. The results are both surprising and humbling as the story concerns the nuances of human communication. Sometimes his exchanges are tenderly moving and sometimes they're just awkward in a way which is true to the ebb and flow of our personal networks. Some friends turn into strangers and some strangers become close friends. The central father and son relationship in this story is especially poignant. There is also a narrative tension as Artie discovers a dramatic secret about his family which may or may not completely upend his life.
The novel begins in the lead up to the 2024 US presidential elections and Artie has a terrifying feeling about what the result will be. In a conversation it's remarked “He's going to win, you know... People want authority. They crave authority. And she doesn't have the kind they want, and he does. In his cult following kind of way.” Everyone who has lived through this recent period of time will know exactly what is being said here. Though Strout possesses a seemingly gentle style of storytelling this novel is also excoriating about the present state of the country and the very real threats we may face in the near future. It's no coincidence that Artie is a teacher of history and his class openly discusses the lives of ordinary people from the Civil War and WWII. The anger and frustration with the state of our present times is palpable in this story. Artie witnesses bursts of violence and firm political lines being drawn. Yet surprising love can also be found between people who are seemingly diametrically opposed. What can we talk about and what can't we say? At one point it's stated: “to say anything real was to say things that nobody wanted to know. Or if they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand. It was a private thing, to be alive.” Though Artie is preoccupied with the question of free will, Strout seems more concerned with the question: what's happened to decency?
Read more of my reviews on my book blog LonesomeReader or check out the videos on my BookTube channel or consider joining my Bookclub
This new story focuses on Artie Dam, a history teacher who lives on the coast of Massachusetts. He's been married to his wife Evie over thirty years, has an adult son and enjoys taking meditative solo afternoon sailing trips. And in this strange new post-pandemic world Artie finds himself preoccupied with a sense of loneliness and the question of whether we really have free will. Not only does he contemplate the possibility of incompatibilism but he boldly raises this issue in casual conversation. Naturally many people are quick to bat away discussing such a ponderous question. Gradually Artie finds truer understanding with the people in his life by daring to speak about things which aren't normally verbalised, but this isn't a sure method of achieving real connections. The results are both surprising and humbling as the story concerns the nuances of human communication. Sometimes his exchanges are tenderly moving and sometimes they're just awkward in a way which is true to the ebb and flow of our personal networks. Some friends turn into strangers and some strangers become close friends. The central father and son relationship in this story is especially poignant. There is also a narrative tension as Artie discovers a dramatic secret about his family which may or may not completely upend his life.
The novel begins in the lead up to the 2024 US presidential elections and Artie has a terrifying feeling about what the result will be. In a conversation it's remarked “He's going to win, you know... People want authority. They crave authority. And she doesn't have the kind they want, and he does. In his cult following kind of way.” Everyone who has lived through this recent period of time will know exactly what is being said here. Though Strout possesses a seemingly gentle style of storytelling this novel is also excoriating about the present state of the country and the very real threats we may face in the near future. It's no coincidence that Artie is a teacher of history and his class openly discusses the lives of ordinary people from the Civil War and WWII. The anger and frustration with the state of our present times is palpable in this story. Artie witnesses bursts of violence and firm political lines being drawn. Yet surprising love can also be found between people who are seemingly diametrically opposed. What can we talk about and what can't we say? At one point it's stated: “to say anything real was to say things that nobody wanted to know. Or if they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand. It was a private thing, to be alive.” Though Artie is preoccupied with the question of free will, Strout seems more concerned with the question: what's happened to decency?
Read more of my reviews on my book blog LonesomeReader or check out the videos on my BookTube channel or consider joining my Bookclub
May 7, 2026
Why include hate politics and a hopeless outlook for our for our country?
I found the story to be thoughtful and interesting. It could have been so much better if the author had chosen NOT to continually interject the story with hate filled politics and to predict fear of the US government and despair for a country she paints on a downward spiral. Unnecessary. Disgraceful.
I found the story to be thoughtful and interesting. It could have been so much better if the author had chosen NOT to continually interject the story with hate filled politics and to predict fear of the US government and despair for a country she paints on a downward spiral. Unnecessary. Disgraceful.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Top Read for 2026 - incredibly powerful and Booker Longlist 2026😊📚
"Why don't people ever say anything real?" ..."And now he knew why. Because to say anything real was to say things nobody wanted to know. Or I they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand."
A new Elizabeth Strout book is always something to look forward- over the last two decades she has tapped into the human condition and crated some of the most memorable literary characters of recent times.
The Things We Never Say has a slight different feel- as ever, the depth and understanding of human emotions within the principle character Artie is so palpable to feel that he is sitting with you. But this has a sense that Elizabeth Strout need to write this novel as a part of a cathartic process to try and make sense of the rapid and often confusing changes in the world today.
Artie Dam is a high school teacher who cares profoundly for his students- a man of the old-school who had time for each and everyone around him but all is not well. His equilibrium is changing - trying to comprehend how and why national changes are occurring and the long term effect of the young people he supports. After a near death experience, Artie is told a family secret that brings into question who he is and how we all never truly reveal everything of ourselves to one another; the unspoken truths and lies.
As the story progresses, your heart aches for Artie and a deeper realisation hits as a reader that where will the Artie's of the world be in the future - how will they survive the turmoil of politics and the ever increasing demise of humanity with the rise of technology manipulating and controlling all?
The two student characters - Rhonda Lazarre and Danny Marino need a future novel.
This could be construed as a 'dark/depressing' as so may alarm bells are rung - but actually Elizabeth Strout has produced a masterpiece that forces the reader to reflect upon how we all need to come together to challenge, question, support and show that kindness should be the winner and not relegated to the past as we all feel a sense of losing control in a world of insanity.
A novel of our times written by one of the planet's consummate contemporary storytellers. Superb.
Thank you to Viking publishing and NetGalley for the advance copy.
" His students continued to move him deeply, partly now because he felt that he was delivering them to an unsafe world."
"But mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another's selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.
"Why don't people ever say anything real?" ..."And now he knew why. Because to say anything real was to say things nobody wanted to know. Or I they wanted to know, they would not care in the right way. Or even understand."
A new Elizabeth Strout book is always something to look forward- over the last two decades she has tapped into the human condition and crated some of the most memorable literary characters of recent times.
The Things We Never Say has a slight different feel- as ever, the depth and understanding of human emotions within the principle character Artie is so palpable to feel that he is sitting with you. But this has a sense that Elizabeth Strout need to write this novel as a part of a cathartic process to try and make sense of the rapid and often confusing changes in the world today.
Artie Dam is a high school teacher who cares profoundly for his students- a man of the old-school who had time for each and everyone around him but all is not well. His equilibrium is changing - trying to comprehend how and why national changes are occurring and the long term effect of the young people he supports. After a near death experience, Artie is told a family secret that brings into question who he is and how we all never truly reveal everything of ourselves to one another; the unspoken truths and lies.
As the story progresses, your heart aches for Artie and a deeper realisation hits as a reader that where will the Artie's of the world be in the future - how will they survive the turmoil of politics and the ever increasing demise of humanity with the rise of technology manipulating and controlling all?
The two student characters - Rhonda Lazarre and Danny Marino need a future novel.
This could be construed as a 'dark/depressing' as so may alarm bells are rung - but actually Elizabeth Strout has produced a masterpiece that forces the reader to reflect upon how we all need to come together to challenge, question, support and show that kindness should be the winner and not relegated to the past as we all feel a sense of losing control in a world of insanity.
A novel of our times written by one of the planet's consummate contemporary storytellers. Superb.
Thank you to Viking publishing and NetGalley for the advance copy.
" His students continued to move him deeply, partly now because he felt that he was delivering them to an unsafe world."
"But mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another's selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.
May 8, 2026
DNF I wanted a story, not a lecture. The preaching completely overshadowed the characters and plot, and I lost interest fast. Not every book needs political commentary to be considered meaningful or intelligent.
June 24, 2026
I sense that my two-star rating is an outlier opinion on this novel, so I’ll start with what I appreciated. First, I liked how Elizabeth Strout showed that mental health and mental health concerns affect people of all ages. I think sometimes certain mental health issues (being vague to avoid spoilers) mostly affect young adults, so it’s nice that Strout showed how older people can go through it too. I also appreciated some of her strident political messaging in the latter half of the book – which is somewhat ironic given that a quick skim of some of the other two-star reviews highlights how some people were turned off by that.
The reason I give this book a lower star rating is because the writing was a big turn off for me. The prose gave off fake deep vibes to me, like it was trying too hard. There were several times in which Strout would employ a dramatic turn of phrase that I could tell was intended to elicit an emotion, though for me it just took me out of the narrative. To be honest the writing gave me Fredrik Backman energy (at least from the one novel of his I read, Beartown). It’s like I can tell these authors are trying to be deep and profound though it’s too obvious and the prose doesn’t capture the characters’ subtle emotions and interactions enough. Anyway, feel free to let me know if you think Strout’s other novels are written differently or if they’re more or less the same in terms of writing style. Onto the next book!
The reason I give this book a lower star rating is because the writing was a big turn off for me. The prose gave off fake deep vibes to me, like it was trying too hard. There were several times in which Strout would employ a dramatic turn of phrase that I could tell was intended to elicit an emotion, though for me it just took me out of the narrative. To be honest the writing gave me Fredrik Backman energy (at least from the one novel of his I read, Beartown). It’s like I can tell these authors are trying to be deep and profound though it’s too obvious and the prose doesn’t capture the characters’ subtle emotions and interactions enough. Anyway, feel free to let me know if you think Strout’s other novels are written differently or if they’re more or less the same in terms of writing style. Onto the next book!
April 30, 2026
I’m so glad to see Elizabeth Strout’s new book, “The Things We Never Say,” getting so many enthusiastic and thoughtful reviews. The ones I’ve read — the Times, Ron Charles, others — capture the depth and character of the book in ways I’ve been struggling to do. You'd probably do well to skip what follows and read what they wrote.
Strout’s protagonist, Artie Dam, is in his late fifties. He’s been married to Evie, a therapist, for more than thirty years. They have a grown son named Rob who’s a software developer. They have a beautiful house on the water, a boat. Artie is a beloved history teacher in a small coastal Massachusetts town high school. Everybody admires and likes him. He seems in every way the exemplar of a good man living a good life.
And yet, Artie has for months been quietly, secretly thinking of killing himself.
Nothing new in this set-up, of course; men leading lives of quiet desperation and all that. But there’s more going on here. Artie’s in pain. He’s profoundly lonely, increasingly cut off from the things and people he used to rely on, and fearful of what might lie ahead. He may not be the Everyman for our time but he does seem the living distillation of how difficult it is to live a life of integrity, meaning, and purpose, in a country where ideas like those have lost currency. Not just lost currency but, it seems, been repudiated.
As Artie’s story unfolds — as we learn more about what he’s going through now and what happened in his past — we see a decent man watching the most important personal connections in his life being strained or severed. “An accretion of loneliness,” Strout calls it. The book opens with Artie saying goodbye to a friend, the only person with whom he could be himself. At home his wife — whom he fell in love with because of her laugh and generosity— is distant, unresponsive. His son too, whom he desperately loves, is also withdrawing. His students have been scarred by the pandemic: “They were anxious, and not argumentative—with him or with one another—as he had known them to be in the past, when there had been lively discussions. It was often difficult now to get them even to talk.”
It’s not just the kids. Artie sees it everywhere and finds himself wondering — sometimes saying out loud — “why people never say anything real” and “why can’t anybody talk about what’s really happening?”
Unarticulated but very present is yet another question: Why can’t we truly see one another? “All of us,” Strout tells us, “live with a huge blind spot before our eyes, meaning that no matter what we think we know we can never fully understand how we appear to others.” (One of Artie's students will, we learn -- though Artie won't -- one day look back at her time in high school and think, "God bless Mr. Dam. So blind we humans are—so blind. To each other and to ourselves, moving through life as though through shadows, putting out a hand in the dark and thinking we have touched someone.")
So Artie lives a “double life.” To all appearances he’s still the same calm, kind, and thoughtful person he’s always been. The guy who won Massachusetts Teacher of the Year a few years back. Yet he’s having dark thoughts, lying on his bed and thinking, “I am lonely enough to die.” He will perplex those around him by asking, as if out of nowhere, “We all think there is free will, but what if there isn’t?”
Of course, none of this is coming from out of nowhere. It comes from Artie's past; it's in the air of the country he moves in, in the loneliness endemic to the time. The more we learn more about his life, the clearer the picture we get of what’s behind the darkness in his soul. Some years back, the car his son Rob was driving was in an accident and his girlfriend was killed. There were questions about what really happened. The family was never the same after that. Artie is haunted by memories of his sister Maria: “And his poor, now dead sister, she lived like a shadow pressed against him all the time.” His mother was been hospitalized twice for psychotic episodes during which she became violent. His father had died, leaving Artie with “practically a visceral sense of longing. Who had his father been?” What kind of father is he? How much control over his life does he really have? The past is a daunting burden to Artie Dam. To there entire Dam family. (Yeah, I know.)
Not just the past, because on top of all this, Artie -- a historian and given to introspection -- is deeply worried about the rapidly approaching presidential election, which makes him “feel as if a noose was tightening each day around his neck.”
Then, as if all this wasn't enough, one day he learns of a secret that will threaten to shatter him and change everything he believes.
The madness of the world slowly, inexorably, leeches into Artie’s daily life. Every year for a long time he’s had his students research the Civil War experiences of someone from Massachusetts. Then one day his principal informs him that some parents are asking why there are no Confederates. A session about Nazi Germany ends with one anxious student opining, “It will be the illegal immigrants this time, not the Jews… The ones with brown skin.” To which another student responds, “Oh, stop it. Jesus, they should be sent back.” Fights suddenly start breaking out at school events. Artie is lectured about the impropriety of addressing his students as “boys and girls” because it's “demeaning”: “There may be students who are neither.” Until finally Artie can’t take anymore.
“The Things We Never Say” is a short book with a big heart and a deep curiosity about our relationships with others and the state of the country. When I was done reading it I found myself thinking how much I cared about Artie, how much of what he felt resonated. Looking back from the end, we see how tightly interwoven are the events in “The Things We Never Say."
Also -- and importantly, I think -- although they might be so easy to overlook, again and again in the book we see acts of kindness and generosity. We see compassion from people we would never had expected, moments that challenge our impulse to reduce people to one-dimensionality. We get quick glimpses of the near future where the love Artie gave his students changed their lives, led them to become good and caring people.
I gather that the final printed edition of "The Things We Never Say" has an afterword that's been criticized by some for its political position. I haven't seen it myself -- it wasn't included in the digital ARC -- so I can't comment on it. I can say, without elaboration, that the book ends with a clear affirmation of Artie's life and the kindness he brought into the world and received back from it in return.
My thanks to Random House and Edelweis+ for providing a digital ARC in return for an honest review.
PS: I don’t want to make too much of it but I was intrigued by the quiet parallels Stout creates between Artie’s mental state and the state of the union, almost like they are in tandem: Artie contemplates killing himself; he believes “his country is killing itself.” Artie wrestles with what it means to be a father; he’s reading a biography of Elon Musk whose “father was an awful man. Elon most likely had Asperger’s and had always been a strange child, and his father had been unspeakable to him. And after the pandemic Elon was becoming more like his father.” And so on. There are others.
Strout’s protagonist, Artie Dam, is in his late fifties. He’s been married to Evie, a therapist, for more than thirty years. They have a grown son named Rob who’s a software developer. They have a beautiful house on the water, a boat. Artie is a beloved history teacher in a small coastal Massachusetts town high school. Everybody admires and likes him. He seems in every way the exemplar of a good man living a good life.
And yet, Artie has for months been quietly, secretly thinking of killing himself.
Nothing new in this set-up, of course; men leading lives of quiet desperation and all that. But there’s more going on here. Artie’s in pain. He’s profoundly lonely, increasingly cut off from the things and people he used to rely on, and fearful of what might lie ahead. He may not be the Everyman for our time but he does seem the living distillation of how difficult it is to live a life of integrity, meaning, and purpose, in a country where ideas like those have lost currency. Not just lost currency but, it seems, been repudiated.
As Artie’s story unfolds — as we learn more about what he’s going through now and what happened in his past — we see a decent man watching the most important personal connections in his life being strained or severed. “An accretion of loneliness,” Strout calls it. The book opens with Artie saying goodbye to a friend, the only person with whom he could be himself. At home his wife — whom he fell in love with because of her laugh and generosity— is distant, unresponsive. His son too, whom he desperately loves, is also withdrawing. His students have been scarred by the pandemic: “They were anxious, and not argumentative—with him or with one another—as he had known them to be in the past, when there had been lively discussions. It was often difficult now to get them even to talk.”
It’s not just the kids. Artie sees it everywhere and finds himself wondering — sometimes saying out loud — “why people never say anything real” and “why can’t anybody talk about what’s really happening?”
Unarticulated but very present is yet another question: Why can’t we truly see one another? “All of us,” Strout tells us, “live with a huge blind spot before our eyes, meaning that no matter what we think we know we can never fully understand how we appear to others.” (One of Artie's students will, we learn -- though Artie won't -- one day look back at her time in high school and think, "God bless Mr. Dam. So blind we humans are—so blind. To each other and to ourselves, moving through life as though through shadows, putting out a hand in the dark and thinking we have touched someone.")
So Artie lives a “double life.” To all appearances he’s still the same calm, kind, and thoughtful person he’s always been. The guy who won Massachusetts Teacher of the Year a few years back. Yet he’s having dark thoughts, lying on his bed and thinking, “I am lonely enough to die.” He will perplex those around him by asking, as if out of nowhere, “We all think there is free will, but what if there isn’t?”
Of course, none of this is coming from out of nowhere. It comes from Artie's past; it's in the air of the country he moves in, in the loneliness endemic to the time. The more we learn more about his life, the clearer the picture we get of what’s behind the darkness in his soul. Some years back, the car his son Rob was driving was in an accident and his girlfriend was killed. There were questions about what really happened. The family was never the same after that. Artie is haunted by memories of his sister Maria: “And his poor, now dead sister, she lived like a shadow pressed against him all the time.” His mother was been hospitalized twice for psychotic episodes during which she became violent. His father had died, leaving Artie with “practically a visceral sense of longing. Who had his father been?” What kind of father is he? How much control over his life does he really have? The past is a daunting burden to Artie Dam. To there entire Dam family. (Yeah, I know.)
Not just the past, because on top of all this, Artie -- a historian and given to introspection -- is deeply worried about the rapidly approaching presidential election, which makes him “feel as if a noose was tightening each day around his neck.”
Then, as if all this wasn't enough, one day he learns of a secret that will threaten to shatter him and change everything he believes.
The madness of the world slowly, inexorably, leeches into Artie’s daily life. Every year for a long time he’s had his students research the Civil War experiences of someone from Massachusetts. Then one day his principal informs him that some parents are asking why there are no Confederates. A session about Nazi Germany ends with one anxious student opining, “It will be the illegal immigrants this time, not the Jews… The ones with brown skin.” To which another student responds, “Oh, stop it. Jesus, they should be sent back.” Fights suddenly start breaking out at school events. Artie is lectured about the impropriety of addressing his students as “boys and girls” because it's “demeaning”: “There may be students who are neither.” Until finally Artie can’t take anymore.
“The Things We Never Say” is a short book with a big heart and a deep curiosity about our relationships with others and the state of the country. When I was done reading it I found myself thinking how much I cared about Artie, how much of what he felt resonated. Looking back from the end, we see how tightly interwoven are the events in “The Things We Never Say."
Also -- and importantly, I think -- although they might be so easy to overlook, again and again in the book we see acts of kindness and generosity. We see compassion from people we would never had expected, moments that challenge our impulse to reduce people to one-dimensionality. We get quick glimpses of the near future where the love Artie gave his students changed their lives, led them to become good and caring people.
I gather that the final printed edition of "The Things We Never Say" has an afterword that's been criticized by some for its political position. I haven't seen it myself -- it wasn't included in the digital ARC -- so I can't comment on it. I can say, without elaboration, that the book ends with a clear affirmation of Artie's life and the kindness he brought into the world and received back from it in return.
My thanks to Random House and Edelweis+ for providing a digital ARC in return for an honest review.
PS: I don’t want to make too much of it but I was intrigued by the quiet parallels Stout creates between Artie’s mental state and the state of the union, almost like they are in tandem: Artie contemplates killing himself; he believes “his country is killing itself.” Artie wrestles with what it means to be a father; he’s reading a biography of Elon Musk whose “father was an awful man. Elon most likely had Asperger’s and had always been a strange child, and his father had been unspeakable to him. And after the pandemic Elon was becoming more like his father.” And so on. There are others.
June 12, 2026
"Pulitzer Prize–winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Strout’s new novel tells the story of a chance incident that sparks a powerful realization in a beloved teacher’s life—a poignant meditation on loneliness, friendship, parenthood, and the importance of truth in a capsizing world."
Artie "Damn-Dam, the greatest man" teaches eleventh grade history. Evie is his wife of three decades and together they have a son. He loves to take his sailboat out on the beautiful Massachusetts Bay. He appears to have it all, but inside, Artie feels isolated. He sees it in the classroom, on the news and the community the world has gone mad. "How is it that we know so little about one another, even those closest to us?" He contemplates suicide until he has a scare then he wants to live. He battles with the concept of "free will" and how we observe others battling this same question. He learns his wife has hid a difficult and important secret from him throughout their marriage. It makes him look and feel deeper about himself and his family. Family is everything and when it disappoints life looks a little bleaker. As a teacher, I felt this deeply. We can look in the faces of students and their behaviors and see the families deteriorating. We constantly question the direction the world is headed. This week in the news has been an eye opener about what is wrong with society. EVERYONE suffers from something, but it is how we choose to handle it. Politics are never going to please everyone and Artie felt the loss of control that we would never have. The book gathers the every day life and conversations and reflects upon them. The compassion and quiet emotional pains are heavy but even in a busy life we all feel isolated in one way or another. I'm going to miss Artie.....
Thank you NetGalley and Random House for this incredible ARC in exchange for my honest review. I listened to the audio and the narrator Robert Petkoff did an amazing job.
I have loved all of her books that I have read and will continue to be one of her biggest fans.
Artie "Damn-Dam, the greatest man" teaches eleventh grade history. Evie is his wife of three decades and together they have a son. He loves to take his sailboat out on the beautiful Massachusetts Bay. He appears to have it all, but inside, Artie feels isolated. He sees it in the classroom, on the news and the community the world has gone mad. "How is it that we know so little about one another, even those closest to us?" He contemplates suicide until he has a scare then he wants to live. He battles with the concept of "free will" and how we observe others battling this same question. He learns his wife has hid a difficult and important secret from him throughout their marriage. It makes him look and feel deeper about himself and his family. Family is everything and when it disappoints life looks a little bleaker. As a teacher, I felt this deeply. We can look in the faces of students and their behaviors and see the families deteriorating. We constantly question the direction the world is headed. This week in the news has been an eye opener about what is wrong with society. EVERYONE suffers from something, but it is how we choose to handle it. Politics are never going to please everyone and Artie felt the loss of control that we would never have. The book gathers the every day life and conversations and reflects upon them. The compassion and quiet emotional pains are heavy but even in a busy life we all feel isolated in one way or another. I'm going to miss Artie.....
Thank you NetGalley and Random House for this incredible ARC in exchange for my honest review. I listened to the audio and the narrator Robert Petkoff did an amazing job.
I have loved all of her books that I have read and will continue to be one of her biggest fans.
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July 6, 2026Reading an Elizabeth Strout novel feels like being in a conversation with someone who is both incredibly intelligent but extremely kind-hearted. That kind of person who has the ability to truly see you and speak to the deepest, most true parts of yourself. She also has the uncanny ability to synthesize so many conversations currently happening in the United States right now, and craft a compelling, beautiful, character-rich story that speaks to the current moment without feeling cheesy or pandering. It's honest, it's raw, it's really, really painful at times. This book has a heaviness to it that may be difficult to read because of exactly what it's speaking to--the state of the country and the state of ourselves as a people. But it's necessary and so wonderfully done. Truly an exceptional novel that only a master like Strout could publish.
May 10, 2026
UPDATE: It is rare that I update my reviews. But just this week, this poignant novel was long-listed for the Booker prize. During the same week, I attended the movie Odyssey. And then I reread my own review as well as those of others who 1-starred this book based solely on the misguided belief that it was about "politics". In fact, it is about what occurs to humanity when we willfully ignore our better angels -- be they Zeus' law, Jesus' law, or just our better selves. This author so skillfully aligns personal angst with collective breakdown and acceptance of casual cruelties. It truly is a must-read.
If, like me, you’ve read Elizabeth Strout’s prior works, you know that she populates her books with mostly good people. Imperfect, yes. Searching, yes. But underneath their gruff exterior, there is a kindness that shines through. Despite yourself, you like her characters; at the very least, you understand why you don’t.
Artie Dam is a character you will like very much. He’s a high school teacher, voted the most popular teacher, and he cares about those kids. His only son survived a tragic event and Artie is the kind of father you’d want to have around if you were in his son's shoes. He has that special ability to feel people’s pain and to take some of it away. He is the best of all of us.
But, as Elizabeth Strout writes, “So blind we humans are—so blind. To each other and to ourselves moving through life as though through shadows, putting out a hand in the dark and thinking we have touched someone…mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another’s selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.”
The Things We Never Say is a poignant book and I daresay, an existential one. I’d also say it’s the most affective and meaningful book this author has written. It dares to ask the question: do any of us really have free will? Does free will even exist? And it explores the fact that held within every single person is a vast, unknowable universe and an entire world that is filled with unspoken truths.
If I had to sum up the theme of this book, I’d say it is both a requiem for our dying world and a love song for those that we still love despite their complexities. As the foundation that makes up our lives begins to capsize — truth, human kindness, second chances, collective goodness — we face one insidious virus after another. The latest virus is the evil in the form of Trump and MAGA and readers who do not recognize they are precisely the audience for this book but probably will give up on it before understanding what we stand to lose -- the kind who say, "how dare a novel get political".
Elizabeth Strout has written an elegy to our times, meeting us where we are now and offering us profound insight into a world going mad. By positioning Artie as a recreational sailor who ventures forth in waters that surprise him by not being benevolent as he expects, she places him at the heart of her metaphor. I felt disquieted after turning the last page of this book, but also elevated that art has the power, even in these uncertain times, to interpret what's at stake.
If, like me, you’ve read Elizabeth Strout’s prior works, you know that she populates her books with mostly good people. Imperfect, yes. Searching, yes. But underneath their gruff exterior, there is a kindness that shines through. Despite yourself, you like her characters; at the very least, you understand why you don’t.
Artie Dam is a character you will like very much. He’s a high school teacher, voted the most popular teacher, and he cares about those kids. His only son survived a tragic event and Artie is the kind of father you’d want to have around if you were in his son's shoes. He has that special ability to feel people’s pain and to take some of it away. He is the best of all of us.
But, as Elizabeth Strout writes, “So blind we humans are—so blind. To each other and to ourselves moving through life as though through shadows, putting out a hand in the dark and thinking we have touched someone…mostly we travel through life unsighted, grasping only the smallest details of one another’s selves, including our own. Thinking all the while that we can see.”
The Things We Never Say is a poignant book and I daresay, an existential one. I’d also say it’s the most affective and meaningful book this author has written. It dares to ask the question: do any of us really have free will? Does free will even exist? And it explores the fact that held within every single person is a vast, unknowable universe and an entire world that is filled with unspoken truths.
If I had to sum up the theme of this book, I’d say it is both a requiem for our dying world and a love song for those that we still love despite their complexities. As the foundation that makes up our lives begins to capsize — truth, human kindness, second chances, collective goodness — we face one insidious virus after another. The latest virus is the evil in the form of Trump and MAGA and readers who do not recognize they are precisely the audience for this book but probably will give up on it before understanding what we stand to lose -- the kind who say, "how dare a novel get political".
Elizabeth Strout has written an elegy to our times, meeting us where we are now and offering us profound insight into a world going mad. By positioning Artie as a recreational sailor who ventures forth in waters that surprise him by not being benevolent as he expects, she places him at the heart of her metaphor. I felt disquieted after turning the last page of this book, but also elevated that art has the power, even in these uncertain times, to interpret what's at stake.
May 11, 2026
Started out ok but then turned into pages and pages of anger and negativity. The divisive political views were distracting and not necessary. Boring, depressing and almost DNF but had to read the epilogue which was just ridiculous.
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