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Ein guter Charakter
Eine große Liebe, das Porträt einer scheiternden Ehe und die Geschichte eines Verrats.
Als Barr, Professor für Kreatives Schreiben, unter seinem eigenen Namen das Manuskript seiner Frau veröffentlicht, ahnt er noch nicht, welche Lawine er damit lostritt. Seine Frau Dava ist von ihrem gemeinsamen Leben als beliebte Professoren an einer Universität im Mittleren Westen schon lange unerfüllt. Unglücklich in ihrer Ehe mit Barr, arbeitet sie bis spät in die Nacht an ihrem Roman, angetrieben von einer Affäre mit der Kollegin Svetlana. Doch es wird für Dava immer schwieriger zu schreiben, sie verliert sich an eine Krankheit, die ihr das Gedächtnis raubt. Bis sie sich nicht mehr wehren kann, als Barr ihre Geschichte stiehlt und umdeutet.
Ein Roman über das Erinnern und Vergessen, über Liebe gegen alle Widerstände und das Schreiben als Kampf gegen den Selbstverlust – und eine Hündin, die das Leben der Hauptfiguren auf ungeahnte Weise miteinander verbindet.
Als Barr, Professor für Kreatives Schreiben, unter seinem eigenen Namen das Manuskript seiner Frau veröffentlicht, ahnt er noch nicht, welche Lawine er damit lostritt. Seine Frau Dava ist von ihrem gemeinsamen Leben als beliebte Professoren an einer Universität im Mittleren Westen schon lange unerfüllt. Unglücklich in ihrer Ehe mit Barr, arbeitet sie bis spät in die Nacht an ihrem Roman, angetrieben von einer Affäre mit der Kollegin Svetlana. Doch es wird für Dava immer schwieriger zu schreiben, sie verliert sich an eine Krankheit, die ihr das Gedächtnis raubt. Bis sie sich nicht mehr wehren kann, als Barr ihre Geschichte stiehlt und umdeutet.
Ein Roman über das Erinnern und Vergessen, über Liebe gegen alle Widerstände und das Schreiben als Kampf gegen den Selbstverlust – und eine Hündin, die das Leben der Hauptfiguren auf ungeahnte Weise miteinander verbindet.
362 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 13, 2026
About the author
Julie Orringer
16 books1,124 followersJulie Orringer is an American author born in Miami, Florida. Her first book, How to Breathe Underwater, was published in September 2003 by Knopf Publishing Group. She is a graduate of Cornell University and the Iowa Writers' Workshop and was a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University. Her stories have appeared in The Paris Review, McSweeney's, Ploughshares, Zoetrope: All-Story, The Pushcart Prize Anthology, The Best New American Voices, and The Best American Non-Required Reading. She received the Paris Review's Discovery Prize, two Pushcart Prizes, The Yale Review Editors' Prize, Ploughshares' Cohen Award, the Northern California Book Award, and the Anne and Robert Cowan Award from the Jewish Community Endowment Fund. She was the recipient of a 2004-5 NEA grant for her current project, a novel set in Budapest and Paris before and during the Second World War.
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Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A huge thank you to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor for an ARC of LUNA, PHOENIX, QUEEN by Julie Orringer. Expected publication date is October 13, 2026.
Fans of literary fiction, mark your calendars. You do not want to miss this one.
I loved the way Orringer structures this novel. Told across eight linked chapters, the story shifts among key characters, with each chapter written in the second person. Every perspective moves the narrative forward while deepening our understanding of what has already occurred. Occasionally, Orringer revisits the same scene through another character’s eyes, revealing just how differently people can experience and interpret the same event. I found this structure particularly effective.
The novel begins with Barr Pennington, a novelist and writing professor at an unnamed Iowa university. His wife, Dava, a noted and beloved literature professor, is experiencing early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Barr is not coping well. He is also under intense pressure to produce another novel when he discovers something unexpected: a manuscript Dava had secretly written by hand on multiple yellow legal pads.
Dava never mentioned wanting to write a novel. Now her disease has progressed to the point that she cannot explain what she wrote or why she wrote it. No one else even knows the manuscript exists.
And Barr makes a terrible decision.
After the book becomes a bestseller and brings him the literary acclaim he craves, guilt begins to consume him. There is something almost Dostoyevskian about Barr’s psychological descent as success, deception, shame, and self-justification begin to distort his thinking.
Through multiple perspectives, Orringer gradually reveals Barr and Dava’s marriage, their two sons, and the other people intimately connected to the Pennington family. At a relatively brief 288 pages, LUNA, PHOENIX, QUEEN spans decades, taking us from the years when the children are in primary school into adulthood, when they must finally reckon with the past.
Orringer writes about Dava’s decline with tremendous compassion, allowing us to experience her increasing confusion from both Dava’s perspective and those of the people who love her. That same compassion extends to nearly every character, even Barr, who can be extraordinarily difficult to like. Orringer never excuses his choices, yet by the end, I found myself feeling sorrow for him.
And then there is the dog.
I don’t want to say too much about her because discovering her place in this story is part of its beauty. But for all the novel’s literary complexity, LUNA, PHOENIX, QUEEN is also a deeply moving exploration of the healing power of animals and the profound connections we form with them. Dog lovers, especially, may find the ending packs an emotional wallop.
Beautiful prose, inventive structure, morally complicated characters, and a story that rewards close reading.
Highly recommended for readers who love thoughtful, character-driven literary fiction.
Fans of literary fiction, mark your calendars. You do not want to miss this one.
I loved the way Orringer structures this novel. Told across eight linked chapters, the story shifts among key characters, with each chapter written in the second person. Every perspective moves the narrative forward while deepening our understanding of what has already occurred. Occasionally, Orringer revisits the same scene through another character’s eyes, revealing just how differently people can experience and interpret the same event. I found this structure particularly effective.
The novel begins with Barr Pennington, a novelist and writing professor at an unnamed Iowa university. His wife, Dava, a noted and beloved literature professor, is experiencing early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Barr is not coping well. He is also under intense pressure to produce another novel when he discovers something unexpected: a manuscript Dava had secretly written by hand on multiple yellow legal pads.
Dava never mentioned wanting to write a novel. Now her disease has progressed to the point that she cannot explain what she wrote or why she wrote it. No one else even knows the manuscript exists.
And Barr makes a terrible decision.
After the book becomes a bestseller and brings him the literary acclaim he craves, guilt begins to consume him. There is something almost Dostoyevskian about Barr’s psychological descent as success, deception, shame, and self-justification begin to distort his thinking.
Through multiple perspectives, Orringer gradually reveals Barr and Dava’s marriage, their two sons, and the other people intimately connected to the Pennington family. At a relatively brief 288 pages, LUNA, PHOENIX, QUEEN spans decades, taking us from the years when the children are in primary school into adulthood, when they must finally reckon with the past.
Orringer writes about Dava’s decline with tremendous compassion, allowing us to experience her increasing confusion from both Dava’s perspective and those of the people who love her. That same compassion extends to nearly every character, even Barr, who can be extraordinarily difficult to like. Orringer never excuses his choices, yet by the end, I found myself feeling sorrow for him.
And then there is the dog.
I don’t want to say too much about her because discovering her place in this story is part of its beauty. But for all the novel’s literary complexity, LUNA, PHOENIX, QUEEN is also a deeply moving exploration of the healing power of animals and the profound connections we form with them. Dog lovers, especially, may find the ending packs an emotional wallop.
Beautiful prose, inventive structure, morally complicated characters, and a story that rewards close reading.
Highly recommended for readers who love thoughtful, character-driven literary fiction.
August 2, 2026
Oh what a tangled web….
This novel which is about spousal infidelity and betrayal of another kind made me angry as characters deceived each other and themselves. It was also about Alzheimer’s Disease and it was heartbreaking in its realistic portrayal. It also touched my heart with the love found here. The story is told from multiple points of view - a husband and wife, both professors, another professor who is the lover of one of them, their children, a research assistant, and a dog they all come to love . A complex mix of emotions, actions and connections had me questioning motives, feeling ambivalent about these characters, except one whose actions and cruelty were beyond my ability to forgive .
With each POV we learn more about the other characters than is divulged from their perspective. Orrringer does an amazing job with telling the story through this mechanism as the characters are complex. The Goodreads description gives more detail of the story so no need to repeat it here . I’ll just say it is well written, the characterizations are excellent and the ending is fitting.
I read The Invisible Bridge quite some time ago and even years after I remember it . So it was not a difficult choice to read this one. Although very different stories, they are both worth reading .
I received a copy of this from Knopf through NetGalley.
This novel which is about spousal infidelity and betrayal of another kind made me angry as characters deceived each other and themselves. It was also about Alzheimer’s Disease and it was heartbreaking in its realistic portrayal. It also touched my heart with the love found here. The story is told from multiple points of view - a husband and wife, both professors, another professor who is the lover of one of them, their children, a research assistant, and a dog they all come to love . A complex mix of emotions, actions and connections had me questioning motives, feeling ambivalent about these characters, except one whose actions and cruelty were beyond my ability to forgive .
With each POV we learn more about the other characters than is divulged from their perspective. Orrringer does an amazing job with telling the story through this mechanism as the characters are complex. The Goodreads description gives more detail of the story so no need to repeat it here . I’ll just say it is well written, the characterizations are excellent and the ending is fitting.
I read The Invisible Bridge quite some time ago and even years after I remember it . So it was not a difficult choice to read this one. Although very different stories, they are both worth reading .
I received a copy of this from Knopf through NetGalley.
July 24, 2026
So, I went into this book completely blind.
I loved the title and the cover and I had heard of this author, and some older novels of hers were highly rated.. so I grabbed the ARC.
This was a beautiful book, and a story within a story, very emotional.
It covers four decades.
There is a married professional couple,
(Barr and Dava) both professors and writers…Dava is devoted to her family yet falls for a woman (Svetlana) and they become lovers and their children become friends.
Dava is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s.
This story is about love in all it’s complicated forms and the topics explored are artistic ambition, betrayal, literary theft, memory, secrecy, family and the stories we tell ourselves and others.
I love how the author really makes us feel each of the characters feelings and emotions in all their situations.
We cannot forget about the dog, a rescue who had been badly burned in a fire and brings something very special to the story…
her name changes from Luna, to Phoenix, to Queen! ❤️
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the free ebook in exchange for my honest review!
I loved the title and the cover and I had heard of this author, and some older novels of hers were highly rated.. so I grabbed the ARC.
This was a beautiful book, and a story within a story, very emotional.
It covers four decades.
There is a married professional couple,
(Barr and Dava) both professors and writers…Dava is devoted to her family yet falls for a woman (Svetlana) and they become lovers and their children become friends.
Dava is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s.
This story is about love in all it’s complicated forms and the topics explored are artistic ambition, betrayal, literary theft, memory, secrecy, family and the stories we tell ourselves and others.
I love how the author really makes us feel each of the characters feelings and emotions in all their situations.
We cannot forget about the dog, a rescue who had been badly burned in a fire and brings something very special to the story…
her name changes from Luna, to Phoenix, to Queen! ❤️
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the free ebook in exchange for my honest review!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
It’s a good bet I’ll try to read any book that has a dog as a main component in it. Luna, Phoenix, Queen definitely has a dog, but it’s also so much more. It’s a story that encompasses infidelity, betrayal and loss.
The story starts when Barr is moved to get a dog and becomes interested in Luna, a dog horribly burned in a fire and up for adoption at the shelter. He visits every day to walk and spend time with her. Barr’s wife, Dava, has early onset Alzheimer’s which has progressed to where she is in a memory care unit. You would think this set up would make me inclined to like Barr. You’d be wrong. From the beginning, Barr rubbed me the wrong way. As I learned more about him, it became obvious my intuition was spot on. But Barr is just part of the story. Different chapters are told from the perspective of Svetlana, Dava’s lover; Evie, Barr’s assistant; James and Milo, their sons; and Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter. I was taken in by these characters - how they interact with each other and the dog, what they feel they owe not only to each other but to Dava. These are people who are caring and want to do the right thing. The story also moves around in time, spanning 4 decades and not in chronological order. I felt it was done in a straightforward manner and helped build the story, not leading to any confusion.
Orringer gets so much right in the telling of this story. Not just how Alzheimer’s impacts relationships, but the comfort a dog brings (especially a dog’s head on your legs) and the need to keep moving forward. Her descriptions made scenes easy to envision, except for the house and the ivy taking it over. (I had visions of a horror movie.)
I haven’t read any of Orringer’s earlier works but will seek to remedy that.
Readers looking for a character rich story will enjoy this. It would make an excellent book club selection.
My thanks to Netgalley and Knopf for an advance copy of this book.
The story starts when Barr is moved to get a dog and becomes interested in Luna, a dog horribly burned in a fire and up for adoption at the shelter. He visits every day to walk and spend time with her. Barr’s wife, Dava, has early onset Alzheimer’s which has progressed to where she is in a memory care unit. You would think this set up would make me inclined to like Barr. You’d be wrong. From the beginning, Barr rubbed me the wrong way. As I learned more about him, it became obvious my intuition was spot on. But Barr is just part of the story. Different chapters are told from the perspective of Svetlana, Dava’s lover; Evie, Barr’s assistant; James and Milo, their sons; and Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter. I was taken in by these characters - how they interact with each other and the dog, what they feel they owe not only to each other but to Dava. These are people who are caring and want to do the right thing. The story also moves around in time, spanning 4 decades and not in chronological order. I felt it was done in a straightforward manner and helped build the story, not leading to any confusion.
Orringer gets so much right in the telling of this story. Not just how Alzheimer’s impacts relationships, but the comfort a dog brings (especially a dog’s head on your legs) and the need to keep moving forward. Her descriptions made scenes easy to envision, except for the house and the ivy taking it over. (I had visions of a horror movie.)
I haven’t read any of Orringer’s earlier works but will seek to remedy that.
Readers looking for a character rich story will enjoy this. It would make an excellent book club selection.
My thanks to Netgalley and Knopf for an advance copy of this book.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
It would be hard to adore a novel more than I adored this one and I can’t quite explain that to you, because the writing includes a lot of narrative summary, and you spend a lot of time inside the head of a man who is hard to love, and I loved it anyway--it’s really a testament to the marvelous magic that can happen when a writer follows her instincts no matter how unlikely and illogical and not-what-the-market-says-it-wants those instincts might be. Wonderful. Wonderful.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
FINALIST for the 2026 Kirkus Prize for Fiction.
Rating: 4.75* of five
The Publisher Says: A spellbinding tour de force from the bestselling author of The Invisible Bridge—a novel about varieties of infidelity, the provenance of a literary masterpiece, and the power of storytelling to shape identity and destiny.
Dava and Barr Pennington, professors at a Midwestern university, both harbor potent secrets. Fiction writing is his specialty, English literature is hers. But Dava is unhappy in their marriage, and secretly in love with a colleague, Svetlana White, who teaches in the Russian Studies department; spurred by their complicated liaison, she spends her nights working on a novel about two women who run a domestic violence shelter in coastal Maine. Though she loves the work and the refuge it provides, the writing becomes increasingly difficult as her memory begins to fail; tests reveal that she’s suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s. After a precipitous decline, she moves to a memory-care facility in a neighboring town. Soon afterward, her husband, alone in the house at night, discovers her hidden manuscript, which he reads with envy, and then with anger, as he extrapolates his wife’s affair from the relationship described in the novel’s pages. Over the next two years he rewrites the novel and publishes it as his own, to wide acclaim. But persistent feelings of guilt lead him to confess his theft to an unlikely party, who leads others to the truth.
Luna, Phoenix, Queen tells its tale of artistic and marital betrayal in a chorus of voices. We hear from Barr as he becomes obsessed with Luna, a horrifically injured dog at a local shelter; from Dava as she meets Svetlana for the first time, on a transatlantic flight to Dublin; from Milo, Dava’s son, as he hides in the woods with Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter; from Svetlana, experiencing the loss of a relationship that ended before it could come to fruition; from Evie, Barr’s research assistant, who witnessed Dava’s last days at home with her husband; from James, the Penningtons’ younger son, who makes a startling discovery after his father’s death; and from Milo and Svetlana again, as they grieve the injustice of Barr’s theft and confront the devastation of Dava’s disease.
In a narrative that spans four decades and four thousand miles, Luna, Phoenix, Queen illuminates the power of storytelling and explores the terror of losing the ability to make sense of our world. It is a cry of rage against our vulnerability and helplessness; an acknowledgment of the mysteries beneath the familiar surface of our world; and ultimately, if unexpectedly, a radical testament to love in its many forms.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: I'm a sucker for a revenge story. I know, I know, cheating on your wedding vows is okay when you're unhappy and also discovering your same-sex attractions in escaping your tedious, dull, humdrum, bad-heterosex marriage.
Not to me. Talk about it. Make a deal that gets you closer to a happier life. "I can't because {wafflewafflewaffle}." Yes you can; if there's no communication divorce them already and THEN go live that happier life. Be a grown up not a selfish adolescent in other words.
Happily for revenge-story lovers like me, most people are selfish adolescents. Like Dava. In love with Svetlana, not Barr her husband and father of her children, does she say "we should figure out how to get along in honesty while we finish raising the kids" or even the truthful "adios chickenfucker, my lawyer'll be in touch"? No! She lies and sneaks and Barr kinda-sorta knows it but can't be arsed to do anything about it until the horror of dementia eats Dava.
What he does is steal Dava's life of love that she led with Svetlana in the shadows and corners of theit bad-heterosex lives. Dava, you see, wrote her first-ever novel about her true love. Barr's got to clean out Dava's stuff as she disappears from the life she once led, of course; Svetlana has no legal standing to act in protection of Dava's life. (An excellent reason to be upfront with spouses being cheated on: they'll tell your lover the real deal about health and prospects for the future if only crow viciously, victoriously.)
Barr uses his creative writing teaching career's lessons to turn a good story into an excellent novel that catches a strand in the culture and rises on the blending of Dava's happiness away from him and his skill at shaping that story. And Dava can't do anything about it; she doesn't remember it. Svetlana? No legal or moral standing. A good reason to hide her sneakin' lyin' ways from her and Dava's mutual employer (I have to think it's all a fictionalized Iowa Writers' Workshop; it's in Iowa anyway). So Barr has free rein. His employer (the actual workshop) sees Dava's book's success in the wake of a terrible personal tragedy of spousal loss. He's not going to tell the real truth: he stole his cheatin' wife's tainted happiness and made it into better art than she could've, then let the market reward him.
Sleazy enough for a soap opera. But this, my olds, is not the last word on the subject.
Luna the (sadly but accidentally maimed) shelter dog gets Barr's urgent confession. She is then on a walk with her new doggy-daddy. In his declining years by now, Luna becomes the focus of Barr's need for an uncritical audience. His ever-more necessary assistant, Evie, ends up adopting Luna and renaming her Phoenix (why people think it's okay to rename animals grown into full personhood is a mystery to me) while catalyzing surprises.
Milo and Jamie, sons of Dava and Barr, reach out to Svetlana after their father's death brings the whole picture into focus. They want to know the woman Dava, obviously so different from their mother. It is Author Orringer's gift, by structuring the story as she did...alternating narrators by chapter...to keep homing in on the process of family secrets becoming known at a surprisingly effective pace. I'm aware of how judgmental I sound about Dava. I judge Barr harshly as well. I understand and empathize with them both now I've read the novel, and even willingly grant grace to Svetlana for her role in this needlessly complicated love triangle of sorts. Svetlana's utterly uninteresting daughter Naomi, and Author Orringer's use throughout these eight chapters filling under three hundred pages of the evil satanic second person for all narration combined cost the story a whopping quarter star.
Not ordinary for me. I'd've tossed it onto the Pearl-Rule pile early on most days! But I was forewarned that I'd need to read a lot of satanic second person text, so I persevered. The delicate dissection of the characters' reasons and decisions to do the things they did are so believably, humanly, laid out and so gently treated as the very difficult choices they were that I was never going to whap the story with the paddle I'd propped in the corner of my mind. I relate. Not condone but accept. I get it; I wish all y'all'd done different better things.
You couldn't. It's the human tragedy told again, told with accepting love that I hope to high heaven I receive when I go offstage the last time.
And Luna, the Phoenix...she truly got this story over the hill of my intolerance. She was my star, my belovèd dote of a character. You'll see.
Or you'll miss out on a truly delightful read.
Rating: 4.75* of five
The Publisher Says: A spellbinding tour de force from the bestselling author of The Invisible Bridge—a novel about varieties of infidelity, the provenance of a literary masterpiece, and the power of storytelling to shape identity and destiny.
Dava and Barr Pennington, professors at a Midwestern university, both harbor potent secrets. Fiction writing is his specialty, English literature is hers. But Dava is unhappy in their marriage, and secretly in love with a colleague, Svetlana White, who teaches in the Russian Studies department; spurred by their complicated liaison, she spends her nights working on a novel about two women who run a domestic violence shelter in coastal Maine. Though she loves the work and the refuge it provides, the writing becomes increasingly difficult as her memory begins to fail; tests reveal that she’s suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s. After a precipitous decline, she moves to a memory-care facility in a neighboring town. Soon afterward, her husband, alone in the house at night, discovers her hidden manuscript, which he reads with envy, and then with anger, as he extrapolates his wife’s affair from the relationship described in the novel’s pages. Over the next two years he rewrites the novel and publishes it as his own, to wide acclaim. But persistent feelings of guilt lead him to confess his theft to an unlikely party, who leads others to the truth.
Luna, Phoenix, Queen tells its tale of artistic and marital betrayal in a chorus of voices. We hear from Barr as he becomes obsessed with Luna, a horrifically injured dog at a local shelter; from Dava as she meets Svetlana for the first time, on a transatlantic flight to Dublin; from Milo, Dava’s son, as he hides in the woods with Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter; from Svetlana, experiencing the loss of a relationship that ended before it could come to fruition; from Evie, Barr’s research assistant, who witnessed Dava’s last days at home with her husband; from James, the Penningtons’ younger son, who makes a startling discovery after his father’s death; and from Milo and Svetlana again, as they grieve the injustice of Barr’s theft and confront the devastation of Dava’s disease.
In a narrative that spans four decades and four thousand miles, Luna, Phoenix, Queen illuminates the power of storytelling and explores the terror of losing the ability to make sense of our world. It is a cry of rage against our vulnerability and helplessness; an acknowledgment of the mysteries beneath the familiar surface of our world; and ultimately, if unexpectedly, a radical testament to love in its many forms.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: I'm a sucker for a revenge story. I know, I know, cheating on your wedding vows is okay when you're unhappy and also discovering your same-sex attractions in escaping your tedious, dull, humdrum, bad-heterosex marriage.
Not to me. Talk about it. Make a deal that gets you closer to a happier life. "I can't because {wafflewafflewaffle}." Yes you can; if there's no communication divorce them already and THEN go live that happier life. Be a grown up not a selfish adolescent in other words.
Happily for revenge-story lovers like me, most people are selfish adolescents. Like Dava. In love with Svetlana, not Barr her husband and father of her children, does she say "we should figure out how to get along in honesty while we finish raising the kids" or even the truthful "adios chickenfucker, my lawyer'll be in touch"? No! She lies and sneaks and Barr kinda-sorta knows it but can't be arsed to do anything about it until the horror of dementia eats Dava.
What he does is steal Dava's life of love that she led with Svetlana in the shadows and corners of theit bad-heterosex lives. Dava, you see, wrote her first-ever novel about her true love. Barr's got to clean out Dava's stuff as she disappears from the life she once led, of course; Svetlana has no legal standing to act in protection of Dava's life. (An excellent reason to be upfront with spouses being cheated on: they'll tell your lover the real deal about health and prospects for the future if only crow viciously, victoriously.)
Barr uses his creative writing teaching career's lessons to turn a good story into an excellent novel that catches a strand in the culture and rises on the blending of Dava's happiness away from him and his skill at shaping that story. And Dava can't do anything about it; she doesn't remember it. Svetlana? No legal or moral standing. A good reason to hide her sneakin' lyin' ways from her and Dava's mutual employer (I have to think it's all a fictionalized Iowa Writers' Workshop; it's in Iowa anyway). So Barr has free rein. His employer (the actual workshop) sees Dava's book's success in the wake of a terrible personal tragedy of spousal loss. He's not going to tell the real truth: he stole his cheatin' wife's tainted happiness and made it into better art than she could've, then let the market reward him.
Sleazy enough for a soap opera. But this, my olds, is not the last word on the subject.
Luna the (sadly but accidentally maimed) shelter dog gets Barr's urgent confession. She is then on a walk with her new doggy-daddy. In his declining years by now, Luna becomes the focus of Barr's need for an uncritical audience. His ever-more necessary assistant, Evie, ends up adopting Luna and renaming her Phoenix (why people think it's okay to rename animals grown into full personhood is a mystery to me) while catalyzing surprises.
Milo and Jamie, sons of Dava and Barr, reach out to Svetlana after their father's death brings the whole picture into focus. They want to know the woman Dava, obviously so different from their mother. It is Author Orringer's gift, by structuring the story as she did...alternating narrators by chapter...to keep homing in on the process of family secrets becoming known at a surprisingly effective pace. I'm aware of how judgmental I sound about Dava. I judge Barr harshly as well. I understand and empathize with them both now I've read the novel, and even willingly grant grace to Svetlana for her role in this needlessly complicated love triangle of sorts. Svetlana's utterly uninteresting daughter Naomi, and Author Orringer's use throughout these eight chapters filling under three hundred pages of the evil satanic second person for all narration combined cost the story a whopping quarter star.
Not ordinary for me. I'd've tossed it onto the Pearl-Rule pile early on most days! But I was forewarned that I'd need to read a lot of satanic second person text, so I persevered. The delicate dissection of the characters' reasons and decisions to do the things they did are so believably, humanly, laid out and so gently treated as the very difficult choices they were that I was never going to whap the story with the paddle I'd propped in the corner of my mind. I relate. Not condone but accept. I get it; I wish all y'all'd done different better things.
You couldn't. It's the human tragedy told again, told with accepting love that I hope to high heaven I receive when I go offstage the last time.
And Luna, the Phoenix...she truly got this story over the hill of my intolerance. She was my star, my belovèd dote of a character. You'll see.
Or you'll miss out on a truly delightful read.
November 5, 2026
The power of Luna, Phoenix, Queen surprised me. So much of life is encapsulated in these pages. Orringer writes beautifully about a family, a dog, writing, a love affair, loss, and so much more. It kept my brain humming and my heart singing right up until the end.
October 13, 2026
4 complex stars
Told from several points of view, this one brings several complex characters to life. A lot happens in this story, but a dog runs through it all.
We meet husband-and-wife professors, Dava and Barr Pennington. Sadly, Dava is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Her brilliant mind soon fails her, and she declines rapidly. She is eventually moved to a memory care facility.
The story includes several betrayals. One is a marital betrayal. Dava has a years-long affair with another professor, Svetlana. Another betrayal happens when Barr discovers a story Dava was secretly writing that reveals the affair. The novel is brilliant, and Barr decides to rewrite parts and claim it as his own. The book wins several prizes. I could never do that!
We also meet Barr’s graduate assistant; she’s a wonderful human, and Barr hasn’t been the best mentor. We also meet Dava and Barr’s adult sons.
I had no trouble keeping these complex characters straight. It was hard to read how dishonest they were with each other. The realistic portrait of Alzheimer’s was hard to read, too.
The dog, Luna, plays a healing role for many of the characters, as she herself is healing from fire injuries.
I really enjoyed this author’s book, “The Invisible Bridge.” The two books are very different, but both are well written.
My thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, Anchor for the opportunity to read and honestly review this one.
Told from several points of view, this one brings several complex characters to life. A lot happens in this story, but a dog runs through it all.
We meet husband-and-wife professors, Dava and Barr Pennington. Sadly, Dava is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Her brilliant mind soon fails her, and she declines rapidly. She is eventually moved to a memory care facility.
The story includes several betrayals. One is a marital betrayal. Dava has a years-long affair with another professor, Svetlana. Another betrayal happens when Barr discovers a story Dava was secretly writing that reveals the affair. The novel is brilliant, and Barr decides to rewrite parts and claim it as his own. The book wins several prizes. I could never do that!
We also meet Barr’s graduate assistant; she’s a wonderful human, and Barr hasn’t been the best mentor. We also meet Dava and Barr’s adult sons.
I had no trouble keeping these complex characters straight. It was hard to read how dishonest they were with each other. The realistic portrait of Alzheimer’s was hard to read, too.
The dog, Luna, plays a healing role for many of the characters, as she herself is healing from fire injuries.
I really enjoyed this author’s book, “The Invisible Bridge.” The two books are very different, but both are well written.
My thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, Anchor for the opportunity to read and honestly review this one.
October 23, 2026
In Julie Orringer's extraordinary fourth book, dementia threatens the marriage and writing of two Midwestern academics, but familial and erotic bonds endure. And through it all threads one exceptional dog.
To call this a story of adultery and betrayal would sell it short. After literature professor Dava Pennington is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease and moves into a nursing home, her husband, Barr, discovers a hidden manuscript in her study. It's a messy yet brilliant novel of the love between two women who direct a Maine women's shelter. Dava's mother's life story is instantly recognizable, but the text also confirms something Barr has long suspected: Dava's affair with her best friend and colleague, Svetlana White. He edits her handwritten draft of The Refuge, alters the style, tones down the lesbian sex, and publishes it as his own--to great acclaim.
Orringer's title incants the names borne by Barr's assistant Evie's rescue dog, who was badly burned in a house fire. As Luna, she's Barr's confessor; as Phoenix, she's Dava's therapy animal; as Queen, she symbolizes the pull of home, tacit communication, and the hope that memory might surpass words. The chapters range over several decades and as far afield as Dublin and Rome. They resemble linked stories; each is as intricate as a whole novel and reveals a fresh perspective and backstory, including Dava and Barr's sons and Svetlana's daughter. Orringer is never less than stellar, and Luna, Phoenix, Queen--which calls to mind Amy Bloom and Meg Wolitzer--is unforgettable.
(Posted with permission from Shelf Awareness.)
To call this a story of adultery and betrayal would sell it short. After literature professor Dava Pennington is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease and moves into a nursing home, her husband, Barr, discovers a hidden manuscript in her study. It's a messy yet brilliant novel of the love between two women who direct a Maine women's shelter. Dava's mother's life story is instantly recognizable, but the text also confirms something Barr has long suspected: Dava's affair with her best friend and colleague, Svetlana White. He edits her handwritten draft of The Refuge, alters the style, tones down the lesbian sex, and publishes it as his own--to great acclaim.
Orringer's title incants the names borne by Barr's assistant Evie's rescue dog, who was badly burned in a house fire. As Luna, she's Barr's confessor; as Phoenix, she's Dava's therapy animal; as Queen, she symbolizes the pull of home, tacit communication, and the hope that memory might surpass words. The chapters range over several decades and as far afield as Dublin and Rome. They resemble linked stories; each is as intricate as a whole novel and reveals a fresh perspective and backstory, including Dava and Barr's sons and Svetlana's daughter. Orringer is never less than stellar, and Luna, Phoenix, Queen--which calls to mind Amy Bloom and Meg Wolitzer--is unforgettable.
(Posted with permission from Shelf Awareness.)
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
The story unfolds through the experiences of the characters, each allotted a distinct voice and sector. How Barr, wracked with guilt over the approbation of his wife's work, finds solace in the presence of a highly unusual shelter dog, one that has suffered herself. And where that very same dog leads the characters makes for hauntingly beautiful reading. Everyone has secrets, some not as apparent, and all questions remain unanswered, but I can't recommend this novel enough.
October 19, 2026
WOW. If you love literary fiction, put this on your TBR immediately.
Told over several decades and from multiple POVs (not confusing, I promise!), Luna, Phoenix, Queen follows the lives of Dava and Barr, two acclaimed professors and writers who build a life and raise a family together. But Dava is in love with a woman, and when she develops early-onset Alzheimer’s, Barr finds a particularly cruel way to exact revenge for her infidelity: he publishes her writing as his own, knowing she is no longer able to protest or even fully understand what is happening. There is so much to unpack here about love, betrayal, identity, and the ownership of someone else’s story.
And then you may ask, who is Luna, Phoenix, Queen? Why, she's a dog! A dog horribly maimed in a fire (for my fellow animal lovers, rest assured, there is no on-page animal abuse). This dog, regardless of what name she goes by, touches the lives of the characters in ways that are both heartbreaking and beautiful. She becomes a symbol of survival, resilience, and comfort amid chaos, loss, and decline.
The writing. MY GOD, THE WRITING. I read The Invisible Bridge years ago, and now I understand why that book left such an impression on me. Julie Orringer’s writing chops deserve to be talked about a whole lot more. The prose, the characters, the way all these lives weave together over time. Flawless.
Told over several decades and from multiple POVs (not confusing, I promise!), Luna, Phoenix, Queen follows the lives of Dava and Barr, two acclaimed professors and writers who build a life and raise a family together. But Dava is in love with a woman, and when she develops early-onset Alzheimer’s, Barr finds a particularly cruel way to exact revenge for her infidelity: he publishes her writing as his own, knowing she is no longer able to protest or even fully understand what is happening. There is so much to unpack here about love, betrayal, identity, and the ownership of someone else’s story.
And then you may ask, who is Luna, Phoenix, Queen? Why, she's a dog! A dog horribly maimed in a fire (for my fellow animal lovers, rest assured, there is no on-page animal abuse). This dog, regardless of what name she goes by, touches the lives of the characters in ways that are both heartbreaking and beautiful. She becomes a symbol of survival, resilience, and comfort amid chaos, loss, and decline.
The writing. MY GOD, THE WRITING. I read The Invisible Bridge years ago, and now I understand why that book left such an impression on me. Julie Orringer’s writing chops deserve to be talked about a whole lot more. The prose, the characters, the way all these lives weave together over time. Flawless.
October 12, 2026
4.5 ⭐️ I loved this beautifully written story of family, love, infidelity, secrets, and grief. Written from the POV’s of eight main characters, it was never confusing and flowed so well to allow different perspectives of the same events. Oh and there’s a dog!
Dava and Barr Pennington are both literary professors, his in writing, hers in English. They have two sons, Milo and James, success in their fields, and what seems to be an idyllic life. But Dava is deeply unhappy. She begins to write a novel in the evenings loosely based on her Mother’s secret affair with a woman. When Dava falls for her colleague Svetlana it turns her world upside down. The gorgeous prose adds to the depth of the characters and setting. And did I mention there is a dog?
I was so invested in this story and loved all the well written characters and each one’s point of view. My one complaint is I wanted more!
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf Publishers for the eARC in exchange for my honest review
Dava and Barr Pennington are both literary professors, his in writing, hers in English. They have two sons, Milo and James, success in their fields, and what seems to be an idyllic life. But Dava is deeply unhappy. She begins to write a novel in the evenings loosely based on her Mother’s secret affair with a woman. When Dava falls for her colleague Svetlana it turns her world upside down. The gorgeous prose adds to the depth of the characters and setting. And did I mention there is a dog?
I was so invested in this story and loved all the well written characters and each one’s point of view. My one complaint is I wanted more!
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf Publishers for the eARC in exchange for my honest review
October 20, 2026
What an amazing, unputdownable journey of a story. It’s a complex story of betrayal in different forms, told from a chorus of voices. I especially loved how a dog plays a central role in the story. So unique with richly drawn characters, Luna, Phoenix, Queen is a mesmerizing novel I highly recommend.
I received a gifed copy.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
I received a gifed copy.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.jennifertarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
October 23, 2026
Highly recommended. This was a major stylistic departure from Orringer's previous novels, The Invisible Bridge and The Flight Portfolio, which were slightly staid, thoroughly-researched historical novels set in the mid-twentieth century.
In Luna, Phoenix, Queen, Orringer is experimenting with something riskier and looser, and explores more uncomfortable emotional and psychological territory. Close third-person narration cycles through the perspectives of its main characters, who are morally flawed and emotionally damaged. One of them is the titular abused shelter dog, but this metaphor is always elusive. Set in a college town that's a thinly-masked version of Iowa City, the novel dramatizes the lives of middle-aged professors living in semi-bohemian privilege, after their children have grown up and fled the nest.
At the novel's center is the tragic figure of Dava, a married college English professor with early-onset Alzheimer's, who has been having a decade-long affair with her colleague Svetlana, the love of her life. Dava's husband Barr Pennington is a middlingly successful creative writing professor who's creatively blocked and willfully oblivious to her infidelity. When Dava succumbs to the ravages of early-onset Alzheimer's, and gets relocated to a memory-care nursing home, Barr becomes isolated and withdrawn, and his mental health disintegrates further.
Unhinged with a pervy desire for his blue-haired graduate student assistant Evie, he also becomes obsessed with adopting an abused shelter dog named Luna, whom he hears speaking to him in full English sentences. In the midst of all this chaos, Barr stumbles across the manuscript of the stashed-away novel that Dava was been writing in secret on stacks of yellow legal pads, which describes a love affair between two women, whose details are likely autobiographical. Stealing and sanitizing the narrative, Barr plagiarizes and publishes it as his own, winning undeserved acclaim as a champion of women's issues.
There's more than enough plot in this first chapter to power an entire novel. But as Orringer jumps backwards and forward in time, and into the perspectives of Evie, Dava, Svetlana, and their children, she develops their intersecting backstories. And as these characters make their own discoveries, so do we. The twists and turns are shocking, revealing, and emotionally earned.
Many thanks to Knopf and Netgalley for providing me with a free ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
In Luna, Phoenix, Queen, Orringer is experimenting with something riskier and looser, and explores more uncomfortable emotional and psychological territory. Close third-person narration cycles through the perspectives of its main characters, who are morally flawed and emotionally damaged. One of them is the titular abused shelter dog, but this metaphor is always elusive. Set in a college town that's a thinly-masked version of Iowa City, the novel dramatizes the lives of middle-aged professors living in semi-bohemian privilege, after their children have grown up and fled the nest.
At the novel's center is the tragic figure of Dava, a married college English professor with early-onset Alzheimer's, who has been having a decade-long affair with her colleague Svetlana, the love of her life. Dava's husband Barr Pennington is a middlingly successful creative writing professor who's creatively blocked and willfully oblivious to her infidelity. When Dava succumbs to the ravages of early-onset Alzheimer's, and gets relocated to a memory-care nursing home, Barr becomes isolated and withdrawn, and his mental health disintegrates further.
Unhinged with a pervy desire for his blue-haired graduate student assistant Evie, he also becomes obsessed with adopting an abused shelter dog named Luna, whom he hears speaking to him in full English sentences. In the midst of all this chaos, Barr stumbles across the manuscript of the stashed-away novel that Dava was been writing in secret on stacks of yellow legal pads, which describes a love affair between two women, whose details are likely autobiographical. Stealing and sanitizing the narrative, Barr plagiarizes and publishes it as his own, winning undeserved acclaim as a champion of women's issues.
There's more than enough plot in this first chapter to power an entire novel. But as Orringer jumps backwards and forward in time, and into the perspectives of Evie, Dava, Svetlana, and their children, she develops their intersecting backstories. And as these characters make their own discoveries, so do we. The twists and turns are shocking, revealing, and emotionally earned.
Many thanks to Knopf and Netgalley for providing me with a free ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Thanks to Netgally and the publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
This was an incredible story, told from several different perspectives (one long chapter at a time so very easy to follow/keep everyone straight), with a rescue dog as kind of a thread connecting everyone. I usually prefer short chapters, but this layout really lets the reader get immersed in the perspective of the character in its specific chapter.
The story was heartbreaking as well as hopeful, full of love and connection as well as betrayal.
I think the author did a wonderful job of portraying someone with Alzheimers disease and all of the terrible realities that go along with the disease.
This was my first time reading this author, and I have already added everything else she's written to my TBR.. Read this book, and I'm sure you'll be adding her other books to yours as well.
This was an incredible story, told from several different perspectives (one long chapter at a time so very easy to follow/keep everyone straight), with a rescue dog as kind of a thread connecting everyone. I usually prefer short chapters, but this layout really lets the reader get immersed in the perspective of the character in its specific chapter.
The story was heartbreaking as well as hopeful, full of love and connection as well as betrayal.
I think the author did a wonderful job of portraying someone with Alzheimers disease and all of the terrible realities that go along with the disease.
This was my first time reading this author, and I have already added everything else she's written to my TBR.. Read this book, and I'm sure you'll be adding her other books to yours as well.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
“There’s no justice,” Evie said. “But there might still be truth.” from Luna, Phoenix, Queen
Of our seven dogs, four were rescues. Of those rescues, it was Kara who won everyone’s heart.
He was loving, and a rascal. He had never lived in a house before and soiled his bed and peed on the fireplace and in the evening made a bed under the bushes so we had to drag him out and bring him back indoors to his crate.
Kara was joyful. And horribly damaged. Frostbite had taken the tips of his ears. His allergies untreated, he chewed the fur off his legs. A broken bone had not been set and he limped. His teeth were worn to nubbins, he had ear mites and kidney failure. He lived ten months in our care. And all who knew him grieved his loss.
Julie Orringer’s new novel is named for just such a damaged dog. With horrible burns from a fire, an ear gone, Luna was soon to be euthanized. But rescued, Luna became Phoenix, risen from the flames to a new life. Phoenix is an inspiration, a calming presence. She is a survivor. And if Luna/Phoenix can survive tragedy and love and flourish, then so can those who love her.
It is Barr who first sees Luna. His wife, Dava, is in a care facility with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Barr is struggling with his next novel and with the loneliness that has haunted his marriage for a long time. He feels attracted to his research assistant, Evie. But she sees how he treats Dava. When Barr tells her he is going to adopt Luna, Evie secretly gets to Luna first, not trusting Barr to be responsible. Evie takes Luna to visit Dava, who is calmed by the dog.
…he knew what it felt like to be trapped, to have lost control of one’s own narrative, to have suffered, to have been scarred by events beyond one’s control. from Luna, Phoenix, Queen
Barr and Dava have secrets.
Dava’s dearest friend Svetlana is also heartbroken over the loss of Dava’s love. And, Dava has a secret manuscript, a novel inspired by their love story.
Barr found the manuscript, which he published under his name, garnering awards and fame.
They kept their secrets until Barr’s death, at which time Dava’s and Svetlana’s children discover the truth and grapple with the moral complexity of the truth.
Imperfect people with their imperfect loves. And a dog who loves perfectly. There is so much life and truth and heart in this stunning novel.
Thanks to Knopf for a free book through NetGalley.
Of our seven dogs, four were rescues. Of those rescues, it was Kara who won everyone’s heart.
He was loving, and a rascal. He had never lived in a house before and soiled his bed and peed on the fireplace and in the evening made a bed under the bushes so we had to drag him out and bring him back indoors to his crate.
Kara was joyful. And horribly damaged. Frostbite had taken the tips of his ears. His allergies untreated, he chewed the fur off his legs. A broken bone had not been set and he limped. His teeth were worn to nubbins, he had ear mites and kidney failure. He lived ten months in our care. And all who knew him grieved his loss.
Julie Orringer’s new novel is named for just such a damaged dog. With horrible burns from a fire, an ear gone, Luna was soon to be euthanized. But rescued, Luna became Phoenix, risen from the flames to a new life. Phoenix is an inspiration, a calming presence. She is a survivor. And if Luna/Phoenix can survive tragedy and love and flourish, then so can those who love her.
It is Barr who first sees Luna. His wife, Dava, is in a care facility with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Barr is struggling with his next novel and with the loneliness that has haunted his marriage for a long time. He feels attracted to his research assistant, Evie. But she sees how he treats Dava. When Barr tells her he is going to adopt Luna, Evie secretly gets to Luna first, not trusting Barr to be responsible. Evie takes Luna to visit Dava, who is calmed by the dog.
…he knew what it felt like to be trapped, to have lost control of one’s own narrative, to have suffered, to have been scarred by events beyond one’s control. from Luna, Phoenix, Queen
Barr and Dava have secrets.
Dava’s dearest friend Svetlana is also heartbroken over the loss of Dava’s love. And, Dava has a secret manuscript, a novel inspired by their love story.
Barr found the manuscript, which he published under his name, garnering awards and fame.
They kept their secrets until Barr’s death, at which time Dava’s and Svetlana’s children discover the truth and grapple with the moral complexity of the truth.
Imperfect people with their imperfect loves. And a dog who loves perfectly. There is so much life and truth and heart in this stunning novel.
Thanks to Knopf for a free book through NetGalley.
November 3, 2026
Let me get right to the bottom line: this rapturous book mesmerized me from start to finish and will assuredly take its place on my personal 2026 Top Ten List. Julie Orringer, through the perspective of multiple characters including a down-and-out rescue dog, explores themes of identity and authenticity, betrayal and loyalty, heartbreak and resilience.
The book begins with the perspective of Barr Pennington, a narcissistic professor and struggling novelist, who is married to fellow professor Dava, in the throes of early Alzheimer’s. Feeling isolated and depressed, Barr – who has never shared his life with a dog – explores adopting Luna, who is severely burned and disfigured and will likely be put down. His decision is partially driven by an awareness that his wife, before her illness, had been secretly writing an auto-fiction book showcasing her love affair with another professor, Svetlana White. What's more, it is far better written than his own books.
As this book gets deeper into the characters of Barr, Dava, and Svetlana, new characters assume their places in the narrative – mainly the two sons shared by Barr and Dava, Svetlana’s unconventional daughter, and Barr’s research assistant Evie. But it is the title of the book that provides a hint as to what Orringer is accomplishing. Luna, Phoenix, Queen are three names given to the same rescue dog. It is the dog that is the catalyst for the growth and insight experienced by the characters.
Luna is the name for the moon goddess and when Barr first meets her at the indifferent shelter, she gives him an outlet to confess a deep betrayal of his wife. He projects magical powers on her to hear and understand him in ways no one else can. Later, Luna will be renamed Phoenix – a symbol of soaring from the ashes – by another character. As Phoenix, the dog grows healthier and stronger and starts her new life, much in the way the characters do. When she becomes restored to her true name, Luna has gone full circle, assuming her authentic identity and rightful identity at last.
The themes of the book are rich and multiple and unite around one key concept: how do the voiceless, the abused, and the psychically lost regain the ability to claim their real selves and tell their own stories? What happens when our identities are unrecognized or altered and we can’t communicate in the truest sense? How do we find our way back to who we are meant to be?
This is just a superb book and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I’ll end this review with just two words: read it!
The book begins with the perspective of Barr Pennington, a narcissistic professor and struggling novelist, who is married to fellow professor Dava, in the throes of early Alzheimer’s. Feeling isolated and depressed, Barr – who has never shared his life with a dog – explores adopting Luna, who is severely burned and disfigured and will likely be put down. His decision is partially driven by an awareness that his wife, before her illness, had been secretly writing an auto-fiction book showcasing her love affair with another professor, Svetlana White. What's more, it is far better written than his own books.
As this book gets deeper into the characters of Barr, Dava, and Svetlana, new characters assume their places in the narrative – mainly the two sons shared by Barr and Dava, Svetlana’s unconventional daughter, and Barr’s research assistant Evie. But it is the title of the book that provides a hint as to what Orringer is accomplishing. Luna, Phoenix, Queen are three names given to the same rescue dog. It is the dog that is the catalyst for the growth and insight experienced by the characters.
Luna is the name for the moon goddess and when Barr first meets her at the indifferent shelter, she gives him an outlet to confess a deep betrayal of his wife. He projects magical powers on her to hear and understand him in ways no one else can. Later, Luna will be renamed Phoenix – a symbol of soaring from the ashes – by another character. As Phoenix, the dog grows healthier and stronger and starts her new life, much in the way the characters do. When she becomes restored to her true name, Luna has gone full circle, assuming her authentic identity and rightful identity at last.
The themes of the book are rich and multiple and unite around one key concept: how do the voiceless, the abused, and the psychically lost regain the ability to claim their real selves and tell their own stories? What happens when our identities are unrecognized or altered and we can’t communicate in the truest sense? How do we find our way back to who we are meant to be?
This is just a superb book and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I’ll end this review with just two words: read it!
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
BOOK REPORT
Received a complimentary copy of Luna, Phoenix, Queen by Julie Orringer from Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor | Knopf/NetGalley, for which I am appreciative, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Scroll past the BOOK REPORT section for a cut-and-paste of the DESCRIPTION of it from them if you want to read my thoughts on the book in the context of that summary.
⭐ 1.25 ⭐
Oh good Lord, y’all, what was I thinking, reading a book described by its publisher not only as “a literary masterpiece,” but “a major literary event”???
I know better. KNOW better.
Call me a philistine if you will, but I’m much more a fan of a good story than I am “good writing.” And not only was this not a good story, the writing itself felt overwrought, forced, and formulaic. None of the characters were likeable, not even the dog. Plus there were so many descriptions of so many things. SO, so very many LONG and QUITE DETAILED descriptions of so, so very many things……
Welp. Like I told my husband, I have only myself to blame. May as well have picked up a Man-Booker Prize-winning for all the favors I did myself sticking with this very boring book throughout the morning.
The only reason I’m giving the additional quarter star is because I think that I liked the idea of Monographs, Gelato & Betrayal as a name for an album.
PS
If this the first time you’ve read something I have written on Goodreads and/or NetGalley, please know that 99.4 percent of the time I have nothing but admiration for someone who has the imagination and discipline to write a fiction book. This is one of those times; I appreciate that Julie Orringer is someone who has such talent and skill, and I’m figuring that lots and lots of people really enjoy her work. (I personally had never heard of her before downloading this book the other day.)
Also, my Book Reports are not standard book reviews. Instead, they’re my reactions to what I’ve read, set within the context of my own life experiences and whatever’s going on in the world today. So I fully understand that what is my cuppa might not be someone else’s.
Cheerios, then!
DESCRIPTION
A spellbinding tour de force from the bestselling author of The Invisible Bridge—a novel about varieties of infidelity, the provenance of a literary masterpiece, and the power of storytelling to shape identity and destiny.
“Luna, Phoenix, Queen breaks all the rules and makes its own. Gripping, heartbreaking, redemptive and a joy to read, Orringer has given readers a great gift. It will knock your socks off.” —Andrew Sean Greer, Pulitzer Prize–winning author of Less
Dava and Barr Pennington, professors at a Midwestern university, both harbor potent secrets. Fiction writing is his specialty, English literature is hers. But Dava is unhappy in their marriage, and secretly in love with a colleague, Svetlana White, who teaches in the Russian Studies department; spurred by their complicated liaison, she spends her nights working on a novel about two women who run a domestic violence shelter in coastal Maine. Though she loves the work and the refuge it provides, the writing becomes increasingly difficult as her memory begins to fail; tests reveal that she’s suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s. After a precipitous decline, she moves to a memory-care facility in a neighboring town. Soon afterward, her husband, alone in the house at night, discovers her hidden manuscript, which he reads with envy, and then with anger, as he extrapolates his wife’s affair from the relationship described in the novel’s pages. Over the next two years he rewrites the novel and publishes it as his own, to wide acclaim. But persistent feelings of guilt lead him to confess his theft to an unlikely party, who leads others to the truth.
Luna, Phoenix, Queen tells its tale of artistic and marital betrayal in a chorus of voices. We hear from Barr as he becomes obsessed with Luna, a horrifically injured dog at a local shelter; from Dava as she meets Svetlana for the first time, on a transatlantic flight to Dublin; from Milo, Dava’s son, as he hides in the woods with Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter; from Svetlana, experiencing the loss of a relationship that ended before it could come to fruition; from Evie, Barr’s research assistant, who witnessed Dava’s last days at home with her husband; from James, the Penningtons’ younger son, who makes a startling discovery after his father’s death; and from Milo and Svetlana again, as they grieve the injustice of Barr’s theft and confront the devastation of Dava’s disease.
In a narrative that spans four decades and four thousand miles, Luna, Phoenix, Queen illuminates the power of storytelling and explores the terror of losing the ability to make sense of our world. It is a cry of rage against our vulnerability and helplessness; an acknowledgment of the mysteries beneath the familiar surface of our world; and ultimately, if unexpectedly, a radical testament to love in its many forms.
Received a complimentary copy of Luna, Phoenix, Queen by Julie Orringer from Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor | Knopf/NetGalley, for which I am appreciative, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Scroll past the BOOK REPORT section for a cut-and-paste of the DESCRIPTION of it from them if you want to read my thoughts on the book in the context of that summary.
⭐ 1.25 ⭐
Oh good Lord, y’all, what was I thinking, reading a book described by its publisher not only as “a literary masterpiece,” but “a major literary event”???
I know better. KNOW better.
Call me a philistine if you will, but I’m much more a fan of a good story than I am “good writing.” And not only was this not a good story, the writing itself felt overwrought, forced, and formulaic. None of the characters were likeable, not even the dog. Plus there were so many descriptions of so many things. SO, so very many LONG and QUITE DETAILED descriptions of so, so very many things……
Welp. Like I told my husband, I have only myself to blame. May as well have picked up a Man-Booker Prize-winning for all the favors I did myself sticking with this very boring book throughout the morning.
The only reason I’m giving the additional quarter star is because I think that I liked the idea of Monographs, Gelato & Betrayal as a name for an album.
PS
If this the first time you’ve read something I have written on Goodreads and/or NetGalley, please know that 99.4 percent of the time I have nothing but admiration for someone who has the imagination and discipline to write a fiction book. This is one of those times; I appreciate that Julie Orringer is someone who has such talent and skill, and I’m figuring that lots and lots of people really enjoy her work. (I personally had never heard of her before downloading this book the other day.)
Also, my Book Reports are not standard book reviews. Instead, they’re my reactions to what I’ve read, set within the context of my own life experiences and whatever’s going on in the world today. So I fully understand that what is my cuppa might not be someone else’s.
Cheerios, then!
DESCRIPTION
A spellbinding tour de force from the bestselling author of The Invisible Bridge—a novel about varieties of infidelity, the provenance of a literary masterpiece, and the power of storytelling to shape identity and destiny.
“Luna, Phoenix, Queen breaks all the rules and makes its own. Gripping, heartbreaking, redemptive and a joy to read, Orringer has given readers a great gift. It will knock your socks off.” —Andrew Sean Greer, Pulitzer Prize–winning author of Less
Dava and Barr Pennington, professors at a Midwestern university, both harbor potent secrets. Fiction writing is his specialty, English literature is hers. But Dava is unhappy in their marriage, and secretly in love with a colleague, Svetlana White, who teaches in the Russian Studies department; spurred by their complicated liaison, she spends her nights working on a novel about two women who run a domestic violence shelter in coastal Maine. Though she loves the work and the refuge it provides, the writing becomes increasingly difficult as her memory begins to fail; tests reveal that she’s suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s. After a precipitous decline, she moves to a memory-care facility in a neighboring town. Soon afterward, her husband, alone in the house at night, discovers her hidden manuscript, which he reads with envy, and then with anger, as he extrapolates his wife’s affair from the relationship described in the novel’s pages. Over the next two years he rewrites the novel and publishes it as his own, to wide acclaim. But persistent feelings of guilt lead him to confess his theft to an unlikely party, who leads others to the truth.
Luna, Phoenix, Queen tells its tale of artistic and marital betrayal in a chorus of voices. We hear from Barr as he becomes obsessed with Luna, a horrifically injured dog at a local shelter; from Dava as she meets Svetlana for the first time, on a transatlantic flight to Dublin; from Milo, Dava’s son, as he hides in the woods with Naomi, Svetlana’s daughter; from Svetlana, experiencing the loss of a relationship that ended before it could come to fruition; from Evie, Barr’s research assistant, who witnessed Dava’s last days at home with her husband; from James, the Penningtons’ younger son, who makes a startling discovery after his father’s death; and from Milo and Svetlana again, as they grieve the injustice of Barr’s theft and confront the devastation of Dava’s disease.
In a narrative that spans four decades and four thousand miles, Luna, Phoenix, Queen illuminates the power of storytelling and explores the terror of losing the ability to make sense of our world. It is a cry of rage against our vulnerability and helplessness; an acknowledgment of the mysteries beneath the familiar surface of our world; and ultimately, if unexpectedly, a radical testament to love in its many forms.
October 21, 2026
Early copy courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher.
Review to follow.
Review to follow.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
Loved this story, especially the way each chapter was told by a differnt character's perspective. It was yet another 2026 book where Alzeheimer's played a critical part. Full review to follow.
August 5, 2026
This is going to be one of my top reads of 2026! Really enjoyed the different POVs and I loved how the meaning of the title of the book starts being revealed as the story progresses.
When you read the synopsis for this title you already know that Barr will be the most hated character, but what I was not prepared for was how much I was going to end up despising him! Loved and was heartbroken with Dava and Svetlana's story, and I also loved Evie.
Read this!
Thank you to Knopf and the author for providing a free copy of this book through NetGalley.
When you read the synopsis for this title you already know that Barr will be the most hated character, but what I was not prepared for was how much I was going to end up despising him! Loved and was heartbroken with Dava and Svetlana's story, and I also loved Evie.
Read this!
Thank you to Knopf and the author for providing a free copy of this book through NetGalley.
October 21, 2026
oh, what a ride! such a gem of 2026! definitely recommend this (& so very glad that Claire put it on my radar). this masterpiece of literary fiction dives into topics I’ve seen in several recent novels (by Emma Cline, Douglas Stuart, & others) in such fresh, deeper, & amazing ways that intersect with the act of writing & much more.
I didn’t expect to finish today, but couldn’t get it out of my mind nor stop reading the immersive writing, so this review is shorter than I’d like to give this incredible book as have a long evening of work later / ahead (but hopefully will revisit & write more soon)!
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A dog could make you feel that your life had some worth after all, that you hadn’t forfeited your claim to all affection in this world. (4)
“That’s okay,” Pennington said. “We’ll get along. I don’t bite.” The girl failed to acknowledge his joke, or acknowledged it only by indicating that it would be less embarrassing if they both pretended it hadn’t happened. (11)
His wife had been his closest friend in the world, and she’d been lost to him, in every sense that mattered, for years now. (25)
To give away her things meant the permanent closing of a door, a procession down a corridor at the end of which was her death, and, sometime later, his own. (30)
But then he seemed to see the bars of Luna’s cage again from the inside; he knew what it felt like to be trapped, to have lost control of one’s own narrative, to have suffered, to have been scarred by events beyond one’s control. (32)
Being shy didn’t mean you wanted to be invisible. And wanting to be seen didn’t mean you wanted to be exposed. (92)
He knew his mythology, he knew Artemis and the Cyreneian hind; he knew about Taygete, the maiden who’d been turned into a deer so she could outrun Zeus. A deer could be powerful, a deer heard everything, a deer could elude a pack of wolves. But a deer was prey. Who would choose that? Maybe she hadn’t chosen it; maybe it seemed a fate she’d had to accept. (94)
Their conversation seemed urgent, direful; his mother articulated a point with her hands, drawing an invisible fence in the air between them. He could have called out to her, but James was far ahead now and Naomi would soon be gone into the trees, so he slung his towel around his shoulders and followed. (95)
“There’s always something missing from people’s happiness. And when they try to get it, they get something a lot worse.” (102)
The marriage seemed to function for her like a country of origin, one she inhabited as if she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. (121)
But I’ve read a story or two. You can’t be free in your thinking if you’re afraid to write foolish things.” (168)
She’d chosen a passage from the beginning of The Refuge, the lines most often quoted in the press: They arrived at noon, they arrived at night, they came pregnant and afraid and black and blue, they came with children in their arms, they came with suitcases or with empty hands; they came alone, they came in pairs, but they came and came and came, because men continued to do what they did to women, what they’d done since the beginning of time. (183)
“Okay. I’m listening.”
And then he began to read what his mother had to say.
(209)
Those manuscripts—hundreds of pages in her handwriting, the handwriting that had disappeared years ago, then, later, the handwriting she’d still been able to produce when he’d been in high school, and the handwriting she’d eked out when he was in college, and the handwriting that had deteriorated to wobbly capitals some years ago, the last vestiges of a manual dexterity that had once allowed her to write postage-stamp-sized invitations to the parties he used to throw for his tiny wooden farm animals when he was five or six—those manuscripts contained her mind, her life, like nothing else on earth did anymore; those manuscripts were as close as he could come to time travel, to being with her again. (210)
Strange how grief manifested sometimes as a deluge of sound, and other times as silence. (251)
She had every word by heart. I don’t remember exactly how it went, but it was something like, I applaud, I value, I egg you on in, your study of the American life that surrounds you. I egg you on! She wanted the students to feel what that letter meant to Wharton. She wanted them to understand why it was worth committing to memory. She used to say memorizing was an act of love that changed our physiology. (253)
The terrible fierce effort of new intimacy: dread of it made her feel selfish, ancient, past all joy. But soon she and Caroline were sleeping in each other’s beds every night, and the joy was present, undeniable, shamefully light, a gown of orchid-colored ostrich feathers; it seemed it must be obvious to everyone. (255)
“Nothing’s more boring than hearing a lover on the object of their love.” “Right, it’s only about three-fourths of Shakespeare and the lion’s share of Tolstoy, and most of the rest of the canon, at least the bits of it I’ve read.” (257)
The full spectrum of color would have been superfluous, an overload. Dogs’ vision was just what they needed it to be. To think otherwise was to misunderstand dogs entirely. But that was what humans did, as often as they could manage it: they misunderstood entirely. (260)
[stop here to avoid any even if only slightly spoilers!]
Phoenix seemed to have an idea about where she was going. She led them with purpose and speed, pulling all the while, to a destination half a mile farther along, where the path ended in a limestone boulder and impenetrable brush. She stood at the edge of the brush and pushed her nose around in the damp soil, snuffling. A look back at Evie, a tense tug at the leash: Let’s go. (260)
“Everyone excises their marginalia,” Svetlana said. “Everyone edits their dirty copy.” “She didn’t get to do that.” “Other people can read the books now, though, if we let them. A lot of people. It might be argued that you’ve done the opposite of erasing.” “They can read the books, but they won’t really be reading what she wrote. Her dirty copy isn’t dirty, it’s a chronicle. She didn’t just abandon those novels. She got sick, and the novels got sick with her. You can see it on the page, or you could, before I took it out.” (261)
“If I were her, I’d want the novels out as soon as possible. And I wouldn’t want anyone changing anything I did. I’d want a record of what I made. And I’d want everyone to know why I had to stop.” (262)
The manuscripts did not exist. Barr did not exist. She had no need for justice. What she needed was to sit here and look at the water, next to a person with whom, for the moment, she felt safe. (263)
Where few abstractions remained, there was still this one idea: dog. And no wonder: The dog asked nothing. The dog only gave. She did not require conversation; she did not call on the phone, or pass judgment. The dog did not compare Dava today with Dava yesterday. She would never ask an unanswerable question; she would never hold a grudge. The dog was a font of warm friction. The dog wanted only to stay at Dava’s side. Why hadn’t Svetlana brought the dog? (263)
She had spent the duration of her family’s visit tin-canning around the front yard, clong-clonging on the sidewalk, singing Hey, hey, up she rises, hey, hey, up she rises, hey, hey, up she rises, ear-ly in the morning. (266)
Above the opening was a painted sign, crude black letters on a mildew-tinted background: Queen. (269)
“Look at you,” she said, taking hold of Phoenix’s leash. “Here you are. You knew just where you were going.” (269)
“Queen,” Svetlana said again. “Is that who you are?” The dog held Svetlana’s gaze for a long moment. They could call her what they wanted, she seemed to say; they could make her recognize the sound of a new name, and she would answer to it, but it was no more or less her than any other name. She had scented her way here through the woods because this had been her place and still belonged to her. Scent was memory to a dog; the decay of scent was time. At a time when the house smelled more like a house and less like a set of charred remains, she had lived in it; at a time when the paint on the sign above her head smelled fresh and wet, she had occupied the dog house. And here she was again, changed but still herself. She turned her sleek head toward the river, to watch the water as it slewed through its channel. The river was unbeautiful from this prospect, brown and lank between banks strewn with junk: old tires, rotted boards, trashed coolers, things no one wanted. Queen had once belonged to that company, a ruined and unwanted thing. But now she was as whole as she would need to be. Even with one ear gone, she heard everything; even with one eye clouded with scar tissue, she saw what she needed to see. She had suffered terrible injuries, had been burned, perhaps abused, and that was her life; but she could comfort and be comforted, she could recognize the touch of a person who loved her now. She lay still on the needles beneath the arch of her house, holding her infinite selves inside her all at once like a queendom of dogs, and her silence was eloquent. (269)
“You don’t have to say or do anything,” Svetlana said. “I just wanted to tell you. I would have loved for you to be able to know. But I wanted to tell you now. The novels are spectacular, Dava, wild and spectacular. Reading them was one of the great experiences of my life. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the first day I came home.” (270)
It hurt Svetlana to sit like that, her hand burning beneath the bandage, her arm growing heavy as the minutes passed. But she kept her hand there for a long time, as long as Dava was paying attention. She kept it there as long as she could stand the pain. (271)
I didn’t expect to finish today, but couldn’t get it out of my mind nor stop reading the immersive writing, so this review is shorter than I’d like to give this incredible book as have a long evening of work later / ahead (but hopefully will revisit & write more soon)!
/////////////
A dog could make you feel that your life had some worth after all, that you hadn’t forfeited your claim to all affection in this world. (4)
“That’s okay,” Pennington said. “We’ll get along. I don’t bite.” The girl failed to acknowledge his joke, or acknowledged it only by indicating that it would be less embarrassing if they both pretended it hadn’t happened. (11)
His wife had been his closest friend in the world, and she’d been lost to him, in every sense that mattered, for years now. (25)
To give away her things meant the permanent closing of a door, a procession down a corridor at the end of which was her death, and, sometime later, his own. (30)
But then he seemed to see the bars of Luna’s cage again from the inside; he knew what it felt like to be trapped, to have lost control of one’s own narrative, to have suffered, to have been scarred by events beyond one’s control. (32)
Being shy didn’t mean you wanted to be invisible. And wanting to be seen didn’t mean you wanted to be exposed. (92)
He knew his mythology, he knew Artemis and the Cyreneian hind; he knew about Taygete, the maiden who’d been turned into a deer so she could outrun Zeus. A deer could be powerful, a deer heard everything, a deer could elude a pack of wolves. But a deer was prey. Who would choose that? Maybe she hadn’t chosen it; maybe it seemed a fate she’d had to accept. (94)
Their conversation seemed urgent, direful; his mother articulated a point with her hands, drawing an invisible fence in the air between them. He could have called out to her, but James was far ahead now and Naomi would soon be gone into the trees, so he slung his towel around his shoulders and followed. (95)
“There’s always something missing from people’s happiness. And when they try to get it, they get something a lot worse.” (102)
The marriage seemed to function for her like a country of origin, one she inhabited as if she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. (121)
But I’ve read a story or two. You can’t be free in your thinking if you’re afraid to write foolish things.” (168)
She’d chosen a passage from the beginning of The Refuge, the lines most often quoted in the press: They arrived at noon, they arrived at night, they came pregnant and afraid and black and blue, they came with children in their arms, they came with suitcases or with empty hands; they came alone, they came in pairs, but they came and came and came, because men continued to do what they did to women, what they’d done since the beginning of time. (183)
“Okay. I’m listening.”
And then he began to read what his mother had to say.
(209)
Those manuscripts—hundreds of pages in her handwriting, the handwriting that had disappeared years ago, then, later, the handwriting she’d still been able to produce when he’d been in high school, and the handwriting she’d eked out when he was in college, and the handwriting that had deteriorated to wobbly capitals some years ago, the last vestiges of a manual dexterity that had once allowed her to write postage-stamp-sized invitations to the parties he used to throw for his tiny wooden farm animals when he was five or six—those manuscripts contained her mind, her life, like nothing else on earth did anymore; those manuscripts were as close as he could come to time travel, to being with her again. (210)
Strange how grief manifested sometimes as a deluge of sound, and other times as silence. (251)
She had every word by heart. I don’t remember exactly how it went, but it was something like, I applaud, I value, I egg you on in, your study of the American life that surrounds you. I egg you on! She wanted the students to feel what that letter meant to Wharton. She wanted them to understand why it was worth committing to memory. She used to say memorizing was an act of love that changed our physiology. (253)
The terrible fierce effort of new intimacy: dread of it made her feel selfish, ancient, past all joy. But soon she and Caroline were sleeping in each other’s beds every night, and the joy was present, undeniable, shamefully light, a gown of orchid-colored ostrich feathers; it seemed it must be obvious to everyone. (255)
“Nothing’s more boring than hearing a lover on the object of their love.” “Right, it’s only about three-fourths of Shakespeare and the lion’s share of Tolstoy, and most of the rest of the canon, at least the bits of it I’ve read.” (257)
The full spectrum of color would have been superfluous, an overload. Dogs’ vision was just what they needed it to be. To think otherwise was to misunderstand dogs entirely. But that was what humans did, as often as they could manage it: they misunderstood entirely. (260)
[stop here to avoid any even if only slightly spoilers!]
Phoenix seemed to have an idea about where she was going. She led them with purpose and speed, pulling all the while, to a destination half a mile farther along, where the path ended in a limestone boulder and impenetrable brush. She stood at the edge of the brush and pushed her nose around in the damp soil, snuffling. A look back at Evie, a tense tug at the leash: Let’s go. (260)
“Everyone excises their marginalia,” Svetlana said. “Everyone edits their dirty copy.” “She didn’t get to do that.” “Other people can read the books now, though, if we let them. A lot of people. It might be argued that you’ve done the opposite of erasing.” “They can read the books, but they won’t really be reading what she wrote. Her dirty copy isn’t dirty, it’s a chronicle. She didn’t just abandon those novels. She got sick, and the novels got sick with her. You can see it on the page, or you could, before I took it out.” (261)
“If I were her, I’d want the novels out as soon as possible. And I wouldn’t want anyone changing anything I did. I’d want a record of what I made. And I’d want everyone to know why I had to stop.” (262)
The manuscripts did not exist. Barr did not exist. She had no need for justice. What she needed was to sit here and look at the water, next to a person with whom, for the moment, she felt safe. (263)
Where few abstractions remained, there was still this one idea: dog. And no wonder: The dog asked nothing. The dog only gave. She did not require conversation; she did not call on the phone, or pass judgment. The dog did not compare Dava today with Dava yesterday. She would never ask an unanswerable question; she would never hold a grudge. The dog was a font of warm friction. The dog wanted only to stay at Dava’s side. Why hadn’t Svetlana brought the dog? (263)
She had spent the duration of her family’s visit tin-canning around the front yard, clong-clonging on the sidewalk, singing Hey, hey, up she rises, hey, hey, up she rises, hey, hey, up she rises, ear-ly in the morning. (266)
Above the opening was a painted sign, crude black letters on a mildew-tinted background: Queen. (269)
“Look at you,” she said, taking hold of Phoenix’s leash. “Here you are. You knew just where you were going.” (269)
“Queen,” Svetlana said again. “Is that who you are?” The dog held Svetlana’s gaze for a long moment. They could call her what they wanted, she seemed to say; they could make her recognize the sound of a new name, and she would answer to it, but it was no more or less her than any other name. She had scented her way here through the woods because this had been her place and still belonged to her. Scent was memory to a dog; the decay of scent was time. At a time when the house smelled more like a house and less like a set of charred remains, she had lived in it; at a time when the paint on the sign above her head smelled fresh and wet, she had occupied the dog house. And here she was again, changed but still herself. She turned her sleek head toward the river, to watch the water as it slewed through its channel. The river was unbeautiful from this prospect, brown and lank between banks strewn with junk: old tires, rotted boards, trashed coolers, things no one wanted. Queen had once belonged to that company, a ruined and unwanted thing. But now she was as whole as she would need to be. Even with one ear gone, she heard everything; even with one eye clouded with scar tissue, she saw what she needed to see. She had suffered terrible injuries, had been burned, perhaps abused, and that was her life; but she could comfort and be comforted, she could recognize the touch of a person who loved her now. She lay still on the needles beneath the arch of her house, holding her infinite selves inside her all at once like a queendom of dogs, and her silence was eloquent. (269)
“You don’t have to say or do anything,” Svetlana said. “I just wanted to tell you. I would have loved for you to be able to know. But I wanted to tell you now. The novels are spectacular, Dava, wild and spectacular. Reading them was one of the great experiences of my life. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the first day I came home.” (270)
It hurt Svetlana to sit like that, her hand burning beneath the bandage, her arm growing heavy as the minutes passed. But she kept her hand there for a long time, as long as Dava was paying attention. She kept it there as long as she could stand the pain. (271)
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
This lovely novel is about many aspects of life, but for me it was overwhelmingly about Alzheimer’s and the way the tentacles of that disease permeate every facet of life. Husbands, sons and lovers are all irrevocably affected and, of course, all respond differently to this tragic illness.
Dava is a professor, a mother of two sons, and a wife. She also is in love with another woman (Svetlana). Dava becomes ill with early onset Alzheimer’s, and the novel follows her mental and physical decline through the eyes of her family members and Svetlana. Each person has a lengthy chapter describing their life and the effect of Dava’s illness on them.
There are betrayals. Dava remains married while being in love with Svetlana. There is also a literary betrayal, which becomes an important plot issue. But best of all, there is a dog. She is wounded and ugly, but she offers deep love to those who need it most.
Julie Orringer masterfully captured the tragedy of Alzheimer’s: from the heartbreak of losing mental capacity to the everyday tasks of caring for a person who cannot care for themselves. She also wonderfully explored family and relationship dynamics. This novel will linger with me as an outstanding portrayal of the effect of a terrible disease not only on the patient, but also on every person whose life is affected but the patient’s illness. But above all, I will remember the dog and the way in which Julie Orringer absolutely, totally “got” dogs and their relationship with humans.
Dava is a professor, a mother of two sons, and a wife. She also is in love with another woman (Svetlana). Dava becomes ill with early onset Alzheimer’s, and the novel follows her mental and physical decline through the eyes of her family members and Svetlana. Each person has a lengthy chapter describing their life and the effect of Dava’s illness on them.
There are betrayals. Dava remains married while being in love with Svetlana. There is also a literary betrayal, which becomes an important plot issue. But best of all, there is a dog. She is wounded and ugly, but she offers deep love to those who need it most.
Julie Orringer masterfully captured the tragedy of Alzheimer’s: from the heartbreak of losing mental capacity to the everyday tasks of caring for a person who cannot care for themselves. She also wonderfully explored family and relationship dynamics. This novel will linger with me as an outstanding portrayal of the effect of a terrible disease not only on the patient, but also on every person whose life is affected but the patient’s illness. But above all, I will remember the dog and the way in which Julie Orringer absolutely, totally “got” dogs and their relationship with humans.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
This is a family saga of sorts by a new to me author. The major characters are academicians. Perhaps the most important character is a rescue dog who somehow becomes the heroine of the story.
It’s hard to say too much about the plot without spoilers, but there is an affair and a misappropriation of work. Things that we somehow expect with professors and professional and relationship jealousies but with new twists to these themes.
I felt my sympathies for a few of the characters change as the story evolved. Some I liked better and others I didn’t like at all any more.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
It’s hard to say too much about the plot without spoilers, but there is an affair and a misappropriation of work. Things that we somehow expect with professors and professional and relationship jealousies but with new twists to these themes.
I felt my sympathies for a few of the characters change as the story evolved. Some I liked better and others I didn’t like at all any more.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
October 18, 2026
Als ich gesehen habe, dass es von Julie Orringer ENDLICH ein neues Buch gibt, habe ich mich sehr gefreut. Als ich anfing zu lesen, hatte ich ein bisschen Angst, dass mich das Buch möglicherweise enttäuschen könnte, weil es meine Erwartungen nicht erfüllt. Als ich es nach der letzten Seite zugeklappt habe, habe ich mich im besten Sinne berührt und unterhalten gefühlt. Meine Angst war absolut unbegründet, Julie Orringer hat ein ganz wunderbares Buch geschrieben, und einige der Figuren habe ich tief ins Herz geschlossen - besonders die einohrige Hündin Phoenix, die einen Hausbrand überlebt hat. "Ein guter Charakter" ist ein großartiges Buch über einen unglaublichen Betrug, den Verlust von Erinnerungen und den Zusammenhalt in schweren Zeiten.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Julie Orringer’s Luna, Phoenix, Queen is an absorbing story that draws us deeply into the interior lives of two families, with an abused dog serving as a fulcrum for the central characters’ lives.
Dava is an English literature professor at an unnamed university, while her husband, Barr, is a novelist who has never quite achieved her professional standing. During a business trip, Dava meets Svetlana, a Russian professor, and gradually develops a romantic relationship with her—a relationship she conceals from her husband and children for nearly four decades.
As their relationship unfolds, Dava begins writing a novel on yellow legal pads, a work that mirrors her love for Svetlana and the life they have shared. But Dava is eventually diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, and as her mind deteriorates, the novel is left fragmented and unfinished. Eventually, Barr places her in a memory-care facility. One day, however, he discovers her hidden manuscript. Convinced that it is brilliant, he reworks it and passes it off as his own, carrying the guilt of that decision for the rest of his life.
As time moves forward, we witness the profound effects of Dava’s illness and death on Svetlana, Barr, their children, and Svetlana’s daughter, Naomi, who essentially grew up as a friend of the family. Told through the voices of different characters, the novel portrays the devastating consequences of memory loss with remarkable sensitivity, showing how one person’s unraveling can reverberate throughout an entire family system.
At its heart, Luna, Phoenix, Queen is an exploration of all the different forms love can take—romantic love, marital love, parental love, friendship, loyalty, and even the complicated love that persists through betrayal and loss. In that sense, the novel feels both prescient and deeply timely.
Orringer’s characterization is exceptional, and her portrayal of memory, identity, and the bonds between people is incredibly moving. This is the kind of novel you want to hug tightly when you finish it. It would also make an excellent choice for a book club, with plenty to discuss about love, fidelity, memory, creativity, and the moral compromises we make for the people we care about.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC in return for an honest review.
Dava is an English literature professor at an unnamed university, while her husband, Barr, is a novelist who has never quite achieved her professional standing. During a business trip, Dava meets Svetlana, a Russian professor, and gradually develops a romantic relationship with her—a relationship she conceals from her husband and children for nearly four decades.
As their relationship unfolds, Dava begins writing a novel on yellow legal pads, a work that mirrors her love for Svetlana and the life they have shared. But Dava is eventually diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, and as her mind deteriorates, the novel is left fragmented and unfinished. Eventually, Barr places her in a memory-care facility. One day, however, he discovers her hidden manuscript. Convinced that it is brilliant, he reworks it and passes it off as his own, carrying the guilt of that decision for the rest of his life.
As time moves forward, we witness the profound effects of Dava’s illness and death on Svetlana, Barr, their children, and Svetlana’s daughter, Naomi, who essentially grew up as a friend of the family. Told through the voices of different characters, the novel portrays the devastating consequences of memory loss with remarkable sensitivity, showing how one person’s unraveling can reverberate throughout an entire family system.
At its heart, Luna, Phoenix, Queen is an exploration of all the different forms love can take—romantic love, marital love, parental love, friendship, loyalty, and even the complicated love that persists through betrayal and loss. In that sense, the novel feels both prescient and deeply timely.
Orringer’s characterization is exceptional, and her portrayal of memory, identity, and the bonds between people is incredibly moving. This is the kind of novel you want to hug tightly when you finish it. It would also make an excellent choice for a book club, with plenty to discuss about love, fidelity, memory, creativity, and the moral compromises we make for the people we care about.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC in return for an honest review.
October 30, 2026
The characters in this novel didn’t interest me or live on the page. One of them, Barr Pennington, a middling writer, becomes a successful novelist after unethically reworking (i.e., without her permission) then publishing under his own name the book his wife, Dava, had been secretly and feverishly writing before succumbing to early-onset Alzheimer’s and being institutionalized. Barr’s is the first chapter in Luna, Phoenix, Queen. He is initially a rather sympathetic—even compelling—character, but in Orringer’s hands, he becomes little more than a villain.
Novels about infidelity generally don’t appeal to me, so I’m hardly the ideal reader of this one, a large part of which concerns English professor Dava Pennington’s longtime extramarital affair with another female academic. It didn’t help matters that I found the author’s portrayal of Dava and Svetlana’s supposedly great love to be quite dull. Emotional tension is lacking.
Orringer’s prose is occasionally precious. An editor ought to have reined her in. She is inclined to distracting, baroque imagery.
The novel’s conclusion is unsatisfactory. Once Barr’s intellectual crime (plagiarism and then some) is discovered , the idea is that Dava’s manuscript is to be published. This is what Svetlana, her lover and literary executor, ultimately decides. I cannot imagine that the reading public, even its more prurient members, would want to wade through an increasingly unintelligible manuscript produced by a woman descending into dementia. I also can’t see anyone agreeing to have her personal life exposed in this way. (Dava, you see, has reproduced actual details of her relationship with Svetlana in the novel. These had been edited out by Barr.) We’re supposed to believe that the publication of the draft version will provide some form of justice for the betrayed Dava, the true author of the novel Barr published about two women who run a women’s shelter and fall in love. In fact, the proposed publication of the original manuscript, which more fully—i.e., explicitly—depicts the women’s sexual relationship, is really nothing more than an opportunity for publishers to capitalize on the scandal of a husband’s betrayal and a wife’s unacknowledged love affair with another woman. Add to all of this the fact that Dava is so cognitively compromised at this point that public acknowledgement of her authorship and publication of her work would have absolutely no meaning to her. The whole thing just seemed silly to me.
This is my first Orringer and likely my last. Aside from her presentation of a main character’s precipitous neurological decline, which is well done, I don’t think much of her work here. She tries too hard to be profound and “cosmic”, the writing is overwrought at times, the characters do not convince, and I didn’t find the themes thought provoking or “true”.
Others apparently love this novel. I cannot recommend it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 13, 2026
Thank you @aaknopf for sharing a copy with me.
I love Julie Orringer. I’d only read The Flight Portfolio before this, but that book was extremely special to me at the time I read it—I was (and am) very into historical fiction that changes my perception of everything I thought I knew something about. Orringer and The Flight Portfolio did that for me—no bigger fans out there than me and @m_barbato !!
“Luna, Phoenix, Queen” is a different sort of novel. No less complex, no less interesting. I think maybe I wasn’t ready to feel this deeply, deeply sad and sorrowful about a book as I do about this one. Maybe it’s just that I feel like I have read WAYYY too many dementia books published in 2026. Maybe it’s just that dogs and house fires and illness and all these people just wanting so much life and making so many sacrifices to get it… maybe it just left me with this deep and whole sort of sadness.
I think that speaks to the power of the work. I think this is a good book. I think probably it got a little too maneuvery and plotty for my personal taste in the last 20 percent of the novel for it to get to the landing it needed to get to. It got there, though, and it was good!
Such a good dog, too. Such a good, good dog. And such real people, humans who, as Orringer says, “as often as they can manage it, misunderstand entirely.”
A full-fledged novel for people who want a bit of sprawl, don’t mind a healthy dose of sentimentality, and love a good mix of character-driven narrative and click-together plot as well.
I love Julie Orringer. I’d only read The Flight Portfolio before this, but that book was extremely special to me at the time I read it—I was (and am) very into historical fiction that changes my perception of everything I thought I knew something about. Orringer and The Flight Portfolio did that for me—no bigger fans out there than me and @m_barbato !!
“Luna, Phoenix, Queen” is a different sort of novel. No less complex, no less interesting. I think maybe I wasn’t ready to feel this deeply, deeply sad and sorrowful about a book as I do about this one. Maybe it’s just that I feel like I have read WAYYY too many dementia books published in 2026. Maybe it’s just that dogs and house fires and illness and all these people just wanting so much life and making so many sacrifices to get it… maybe it just left me with this deep and whole sort of sadness.
I think that speaks to the power of the work. I think this is a good book. I think probably it got a little too maneuvery and plotty for my personal taste in the last 20 percent of the novel for it to get to the landing it needed to get to. It got there, though, and it was good!
Such a good dog, too. Such a good, good dog. And such real people, humans who, as Orringer says, “as often as they can manage it, misunderstand entirely.”
A full-fledged novel for people who want a bit of sprawl, don’t mind a healthy dose of sentimentality, and love a good mix of character-driven narrative and click-together plot as well.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A tender realistic and relationship driven storyline that brings mortality and the challenges of health and aging to the forefront. It’s about connections and relationships - human and otherwise - imperfections and flaws. We never really know our closest ones until the rubber hits the road, sadly. A quiet but impactful novel. It also celebrates the power of animal instinct and sensing - those who love animals will appreciate the novel even more - loved the title of the book. A solid 4 stars. Many thanks to the author, publisher, and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
This book was absolutely stunning, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s the storytelling of an affair that happened before Dava began suffering issues with her memory and health. Resentment, anger, envy, and passion are packed into the pages and this book paints a vivid picture of a betrayal and the emotions that come with it. It shows how deep and transformative love can be.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
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