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Helen of Nowhere
In the middle of the countryside, a realtor is showing a disgraced professor around an idyllic house. She speaks not only about the home's many wonderful qualities but about its previous owner, the mystifying Helen, whose presence still seems to suffuse every fixture. Through hearing stories of Helen's chosen way of living, the man begins to see that his story is not actually over – rather, he is being offered a chance to buy his way into the simple life, close to the land, that's always been out of reach to him. But as evening fades into black, he will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated. Philosophically and formally adventurous, at once intimate and cosmic in scope, Helen of Nowhere asks: What must we give up in exchange for true happiness?
168 pages, Paperback
Published January 29, 2026
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May 31, 2025
This did not work for me, unfortunately. I don't think I've read two books from the same author that feel so different in writing. I liked The Shame for its acerbic humor and charm, but Helen of Nowhere feels like it is trying too hard to be profound.
The plot seems like a hybrid of Mrs. Dalloway and A Christmas Carol in that the events take place over a single day, and our narrator is visited by a ghost who helps him reckon with his life. He is an unreliable narrator who only gives us glimpses into the breakdown of his marriage.
I fear I may be too stupid to really get what this book is trying to say... The main commentary of the book is that the husband takes his wife for granted, exploits their power dynamic, and she performs domestic and professional labour that contributes to his success at the expense of her own. Which is all fine and valid - but not particularly groundbreaking. Nothing brings the disjoint plot elements together, and it could be argued that the ending undermines much of the book's commentary.
Both of Goodman's novels center on the domestic lives of women and how they navigate them in a modern world, but ultimately, I think The Shame is a better execution of it. The writing has some poignant remarks but is bogged down by ambiguity and the inability to commit to a central plot arc.
Thank you to Coffee House Press for the advanced copy.
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Lucy Dacus gave this 5 stars and that was all the encouragement I needed
The plot seems like a hybrid of Mrs. Dalloway and A Christmas Carol in that the events take place over a single day, and our narrator is visited by a ghost who helps him reckon with his life. He is an unreliable narrator who only gives us glimpses into the breakdown of his marriage.
I fear I may be too stupid to really get what this book is trying to say... The main commentary of the book is that the husband takes his wife for granted, exploits their power dynamic, and she performs domestic and professional labour that contributes to his success at the expense of her own. Which is all fine and valid - but not particularly groundbreaking. Nothing brings the disjoint plot elements together, and it could be argued that the ending undermines much of the book's commentary.
Both of Goodman's novels center on the domestic lives of women and how they navigate them in a modern world, but ultimately, I think The Shame is a better execution of it. The writing has some poignant remarks but is bogged down by ambiguity and the inability to commit to a central plot arc.
Thank you to Coffee House Press for the advanced copy.
---
Lucy Dacus gave this 5 stars and that was all the encouragement I needed
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July 29, 2026Update 28/07/2026. This novel has just been long-listed for the Booker 2026 (I guess in the grounds of being ‘experimental’?) I was underwhelmed when I’ve read it in February. It seemed the author tried to do too many things at once and not convincingly.
My initial review:
I tend to write longer reviews lately. Sometimes, i am bit worried that people need to find time reading these reviews. But then again, if a book is alive in my mind, i want to talk about it even if to the audience of one:-). However, this review would be slightly more concise. This novel was a disappointment. That is a summary in one word with a bit of more details below.
Recently, we’ve discussed here the potential for an individually-tailored curation in the future of the books’ world. This novel seemed to be an ideal example of something handpicked for me: published by one of my favourite presses, invitingly blurbed by Rachel Cusk as a book ‘with an insanity inside its sanity – or the other way around’ (i am huge fan of Cusk); and also recommended by Merve Emre, a star critic. A novel is structured in six acts, like a play; each with its own narrator. I like the polyphony in fiction. So i could not wait to get hold of the book. I’ve expected something ‘extraordinary’ (a word from another blurb). And for the first ‘act’ it was quite promising.
The first ‘voice’ was of a middle aged literature professor teaching American transcendentalism in a college. He has recently fallen out of favour with the faculty, estranged from his wife and respectively found himself in the process of reevaluating his life. Initially, i’ve had an impression the author would explore the complexity of this character without creating a caricature. At one stage, it looked like she would subvert Stoner for our time making him a bit more self-aware. And i loved this idea. The sentences were good: immensely quotable, ‘cuskian’ in spirit (though lacking her trade mark ambiguity).
But unfortunately it went downhill from there. Unless it has meant like a very subtle satire, the narrative has become very earnest and was reduced to the numerous well-known tropes of toxic masculinity, toxic faculty politiking, toxic power dynamics in a relationship, toxic industrial agriculture etc, etc. Even the Holocaust was brought in on a tangent with a mentioning of a woman who has hidden a jewish family and risked her life (she was not named but i suspect it was Marion Pritchard). It is a very honourable story, but I am not sure how it has contributed to the whole in such a cursory mentioning. There were too much of these 'toxic' themes. But the development of each of them was following a well-trodden path. The attempt to examine dichotomies such as takers vs doers; man vs woman; city vs nature etc have not brought up any new tension between these opposites either. Soon it has become evident that it would be a discourse driven text rather than a voice driven I've imagined initially.
The uncanny element was as well pretty basic by any stretch of imagination. At some stage, a literal crystal ball has appeared and has been used for -you've guessed rightly-to foretell the future! Among other things, ‘a female medium’ (or maybe she was not a medium but just an older woman - figuring this out might be a part of the book's challenge I guess) was advising to the professor how to get his wife back. These are a few examples from this session:
I apologise for the lack of nuance in my judgement. Maybe this was meant to be subversive, but i’ve honestly found all of this pretty tiresome.
There was a nine page essay presented as one of these acts that i’ve enjoyed. In that piece, she did a bit of a ‘Samuel Beckett’, by starting with a phrase along the lines (i am a bit paraphrasing): 'say you are a woman... no, start again. Say you a man writing about a woman. Much better.’ It was pretty clear that the content of this essay is indeed engaged with Cusk or her type of a female writer, a critique of her imagined from a male perspective by another woman. And it was thought-provoking and interestingly composed. But it has lasted only for nine pages.
Overall the book was closer to Study for Obedience rather than to any novels by Cusk. But Bernstein’s novel is much more accomplished. This also might appeal to the readers who enjoyed the last novel by Katie Kitamura. Like that book, this one as well might be considered to be ‘wide open to interpretation’ in terms of the actual plot: who is alive and who is not, the sequence of events, that sort of thing. But Audition is more focused on a specific situation, more tight in its themes a little less performative, i dare say.
I am sure this book will find a wider readership. I would be interested to read more nuanced reviews and interpretations. I am happy to admit if i’ve lost something. But unless this novel was meant to be a very clever, very subtle satire, i’ve felt somewhat let down with this one. It is a shame as i can see myself liking her writing. I blame my expectations.
My initial review:
I tend to write longer reviews lately. Sometimes, i am bit worried that people need to find time reading these reviews. But then again, if a book is alive in my mind, i want to talk about it even if to the audience of one:-). However, this review would be slightly more concise. This novel was a disappointment. That is a summary in one word with a bit of more details below.
Recently, we’ve discussed here the potential for an individually-tailored curation in the future of the books’ world. This novel seemed to be an ideal example of something handpicked for me: published by one of my favourite presses, invitingly blurbed by Rachel Cusk as a book ‘with an insanity inside its sanity – or the other way around’ (i am huge fan of Cusk); and also recommended by Merve Emre, a star critic. A novel is structured in six acts, like a play; each with its own narrator. I like the polyphony in fiction. So i could not wait to get hold of the book. I’ve expected something ‘extraordinary’ (a word from another blurb). And for the first ‘act’ it was quite promising.
The first ‘voice’ was of a middle aged literature professor teaching American transcendentalism in a college. He has recently fallen out of favour with the faculty, estranged from his wife and respectively found himself in the process of reevaluating his life. Initially, i’ve had an impression the author would explore the complexity of this character without creating a caricature. At one stage, it looked like she would subvert Stoner for our time making him a bit more self-aware. And i loved this idea. The sentences were good: immensely quotable, ‘cuskian’ in spirit (though lacking her trade mark ambiguity).
But unfortunately it went downhill from there. Unless it has meant like a very subtle satire, the narrative has become very earnest and was reduced to the numerous well-known tropes of toxic masculinity, toxic faculty politiking, toxic power dynamics in a relationship, toxic industrial agriculture etc, etc. Even the Holocaust was brought in on a tangent with a mentioning of a woman who has hidden a jewish family and risked her life (she was not named but i suspect it was Marion Pritchard). It is a very honourable story, but I am not sure how it has contributed to the whole in such a cursory mentioning. There were too much of these 'toxic' themes. But the development of each of them was following a well-trodden path. The attempt to examine dichotomies such as takers vs doers; man vs woman; city vs nature etc have not brought up any new tension between these opposites either. Soon it has become evident that it would be a discourse driven text rather than a voice driven I've imagined initially.
The uncanny element was as well pretty basic by any stretch of imagination. At some stage, a literal crystal ball has appeared and has been used for -you've guessed rightly-to foretell the future! Among other things, ‘a female medium’ (or maybe she was not a medium but just an older woman - figuring this out might be a part of the book's challenge I guess) was advising to the professor how to get his wife back. These are a few examples from this session:
How? You take your clothes off and you take her pants off, and you just do it. You have to enter her (the italics (is by the author. (p 75)).
The woman who ruined your life has taken the place of your mother and you must remove her.
I apologise for the lack of nuance in my judgement. Maybe this was meant to be subversive, but i’ve honestly found all of this pretty tiresome.
There was a nine page essay presented as one of these acts that i’ve enjoyed. In that piece, she did a bit of a ‘Samuel Beckett’, by starting with a phrase along the lines (i am a bit paraphrasing): 'say you are a woman... no, start again. Say you a man writing about a woman. Much better.’ It was pretty clear that the content of this essay is indeed engaged with Cusk or her type of a female writer, a critique of her imagined from a male perspective by another woman. And it was thought-provoking and interestingly composed. But it has lasted only for nine pages.
Overall the book was closer to Study for Obedience rather than to any novels by Cusk. But Bernstein’s novel is much more accomplished. This also might appeal to the readers who enjoyed the last novel by Katie Kitamura. Like that book, this one as well might be considered to be ‘wide open to interpretation’ in terms of the actual plot: who is alive and who is not, the sequence of events, that sort of thing. But Audition is more focused on a specific situation, more tight in its themes a little less performative, i dare say.
I am sure this book will find a wider readership. I would be interested to read more nuanced reviews and interpretations. I am happy to admit if i’ve lost something. But unless this novel was meant to be a very clever, very subtle satire, i’ve felt somewhat let down with this one. It is a shame as i can see myself liking her writing. I blame my expectations.
July 30, 2026
Girl I have no idea what this was about
May 15, 2026
Helen of Nowhere - Makenna Goodman
سمسارة عقارات تعرض منزلا ريفيًّا على أستاذ ذو سمعة ملطخة وتأخذه في جولة داخل المنزل وما يجاوره وتقص عليه حكايات حول صاحبته الغامضة: هيلين، تختلط الحكايات وينتعش الأمل في نفس الأستاذ الموصوم ويفكر جديًا في أحداث حياته وزوجته وانهيار زواجهما مع تطلع لفرصة ثانية لاصلاح زواجه..
الفكرة لا بأس بها، التنفيذ والكتابة، لم ترقني قط. محيرة ومشوشة ومتكلفة .. أظن النية كانت كتابة شيء عبقري، وربما هي جديًا شيء عبقري لكن لم يصلني للأسف... هذه النوفيلا ليست لي.
لم أكن سأكلف نفسي حتّى عناء الكتابة عنها لولا أن لديّ التزام تجاه نفسي بالكتابة عن كل كتاب أقرأه- والتزمت به بدون توقف من نهايات 2023 والحمدلله.. وهو واحد من الأشياء القليلة التي التزمت بتنفيذها خلال السنوات الثلاث الماضية ...
سمسارة عقارات تعرض منزلا ريفيًّا على أستاذ ذو سمعة ملطخة وتأخذه في جولة داخل المنزل وما يجاوره وتقص عليه حكايات حول صاحبته الغامضة: هيلين، تختلط الحكايات وينتعش الأمل في نفس الأستاذ الموصوم ويفكر جديًا في أحداث حياته وزوجته وانهيار زواجهما مع تطلع لفرصة ثانية لاصلاح زواجه..
الفكرة لا بأس بها، التنفيذ والكتابة، لم ترقني قط. محيرة ومشوشة ومتكلفة .. أظن النية كانت كتابة شيء عبقري، وربما هي جديًا شيء عبقري لكن لم يصلني للأسف... هذه النوفيلا ليست لي.
لم أكن سأكلف نفسي حتّى عناء الكتابة عنها لولا أن لديّ التزام تجاه نفسي بالكتابة عن كل كتاب أقرأه- والتزمت به بدون توقف من نهايات 2023 والحمدلله.. وهو واحد من الأشياء القليلة التي التزمت بتنفيذها خلال السنوات الثلاث الماضية ...
April 15, 2026
Not sure what I was expecting, but not this. The first part was fine enough, but as soon as the 'Realtor' part started, I lost all interest. Each subsequent part seemed to be worse than the one before. A lot crammed into 150 pages: gender, climate change, identity politics and 'wokeism', if you will, but none of it really materialises into anything of substance. Then it gets witchy and the ending seemed so ridiculous I almost thought I had missed the punchline, but I hadn't; it's exactly what you think. It's being spun as a sort of feminist retelling of Dr Faustus, but it's mostly boring and didn't feel inventive. The style gets in the way of the substance, and so it just feels flat and vapid. Also, I was positively cringing at Helen the apparition/ghost/whatever you want to call her appearance recommending that the man has sex with his wife more and possibly try anal, all the while continually calling him baby. Once more I find myself despairing at the modern publications I've been reading recently, and Fitzcarraldo so rarely let me down.
August 4, 2026
.5, rounded up.
Absolute and utter garbage. Not only does the setup make no sense whatsoever (why would a realtor suddenly be telling a potential buyer of a house the entire history of corporate fertilized farming?), but the execution is so clunky and boring, it was a slog to get through.
I got eyestrain from the countless eyerolls that ensued in part three, when the realtor 'channels' the spirit of the eponymous Helen - it would have been hilarious if it wasn't so tragically inept.
Had it not been for its inexplicable inclusion on this year's Booker longlist I would have DNF'd it 30 pages in. As a Booker completist for the past decade, I wasn't about to let it defeat me - so I carried on. You're welcome! :-)
The long passages that read like poorly edited Wiki pages, filled with jejune psychobabble, are nothing if not utterly sophomoric - it's as if the author THINKS she is being terribly profound, yet what she is actually saying is truly trite and trivial.
Look, I'm about as 'woke' as they come, but it seems that this is just a checklist of trendy MAGAt-baiting topics flung out willy-nilly with no depth of thought whatsoever.
The penultimate chapter, in which the author veers into a childish rant about how another (unnamed) author has gotten more acclaim than herself is laughably adolescent - and also doesn't really fit in with the rest of the book - not that there was any compelling throughline anyway.
Oh, for a large sock full of steaming horse manure to beat the author into submission, so she can no longer inflict such travesties on unsuspecting readers. At least it was short ... Ben Lerner should consider suing...
Absolute and utter garbage. Not only does the setup make no sense whatsoever (why would a realtor suddenly be telling a potential buyer of a house the entire history of corporate fertilized farming?), but the execution is so clunky and boring, it was a slog to get through.
I got eyestrain from the countless eyerolls that ensued in part three, when the realtor 'channels' the spirit of the eponymous Helen - it would have been hilarious if it wasn't so tragically inept.
Had it not been for its inexplicable inclusion on this year's Booker longlist I would have DNF'd it 30 pages in. As a Booker completist for the past decade, I wasn't about to let it defeat me - so I carried on. You're welcome! :-)
The long passages that read like poorly edited Wiki pages, filled with jejune psychobabble, are nothing if not utterly sophomoric - it's as if the author THINKS she is being terribly profound, yet what she is actually saying is truly trite and trivial.
Look, I'm about as 'woke' as they come, but it seems that this is just a checklist of trendy MAGAt-baiting topics flung out willy-nilly with no depth of thought whatsoever.
The penultimate chapter, in which the author veers into a childish rant about how another (unnamed) author has gotten more acclaim than herself is laughably adolescent - and also doesn't really fit in with the rest of the book - not that there was any compelling throughline anyway.
Oh, for a large sock full of steaming horse manure to beat the author into submission, so she can no longer inflict such travesties on unsuspecting readers. At least it was short ... Ben Lerner should consider suing...
July 31, 2026
“She fell asleep early, exhausted just to have had the sun alive on her face for a time. And then, she got up early to sit on the deck with coffee to watch the fog lift, feel the dew suck back up into the air revealing the green daylight beneath it. To pay attention, you had to spend hours. To see the flight pattern of a bee, you had to sit idly beside a flower. (…)
Helen came to know a different kind of language, a different kind of art. She came to see that there are people who live completely apart from the minds that supposedly trigger seismic shifts in human history. There’s contentment outside of all that, a life that sees no use for it. There are people who don’t feel excluded, who aren’t humiliated by their station in life, who don’t compare themselves to those who may be seen as better, bigger.”
Makenna Goodman is a rare bird.
Her first novel “The Shame” was a stunning portrait of a mother on the run, fueled by fury and obsession. A novel walking the (narrative) line, a speeding object on a straight highway.
Nothing is straight in “Helen of Nowhere”.
An aging disgraced professor (Man) visits a house for sale in the countryside, away from it all, yearning for a renewed lease on life. A mysterious Helen previously owned the house. Enough said.
Go in blind. Don’t think. The sublime writing will carry you through. Scene after scene, you will surf the waves of patriarchy, academia, cities and the natural world, individual agency and social constructs, men and women, the self and all its masks. Capitalism. The Land. Rescued dogs.
A provocative and idiosyncratic novel/play in six acts, six variations on perception, identity, ownership and reinvention, “Helen of Nowhere” feels like a hallucinatory trip through the chakras, from the root to the crown. Or is it the other way around?
A puzzle. An indictment. A reverie.
What will you acquire or give up in order to be?
A rare bird indeed.
Helen came to know a different kind of language, a different kind of art. She came to see that there are people who live completely apart from the minds that supposedly trigger seismic shifts in human history. There’s contentment outside of all that, a life that sees no use for it. There are people who don’t feel excluded, who aren’t humiliated by their station in life, who don’t compare themselves to those who may be seen as better, bigger.”
Makenna Goodman is a rare bird.
Her first novel “The Shame” was a stunning portrait of a mother on the run, fueled by fury and obsession. A novel walking the (narrative) line, a speeding object on a straight highway.
Nothing is straight in “Helen of Nowhere”.
An aging disgraced professor (Man) visits a house for sale in the countryside, away from it all, yearning for a renewed lease on life. A mysterious Helen previously owned the house. Enough said.
Go in blind. Don’t think. The sublime writing will carry you through. Scene after scene, you will surf the waves of patriarchy, academia, cities and the natural world, individual agency and social constructs, men and women, the self and all its masks. Capitalism. The Land. Rescued dogs.
A provocative and idiosyncratic novel/play in six acts, six variations on perception, identity, ownership and reinvention, “Helen of Nowhere” feels like a hallucinatory trip through the chakras, from the root to the crown. Or is it the other way around?
A puzzle. An indictment. A reverie.
What will you acquire or give up in order to be?
A rare bird indeed.
August 4, 2026
Now Longlisted for the Booker Prize 2026
Granted, this is whacky and out there (which for me is always a compliment), and it's also brimming with ambition (also: very good), but at the end of the day, the question remains: Why is this relevant? Aesthetically, the idea to shift from a highly subjective justification about a life in shambles to a supernatural psychological tale is interesting, but on the content-level, it falls short. Looking at The Vivisectors (also in the Booker competition), I have to admit that I'm slightly annoyed by readers complaining that a novel of ideas is not plot driven (surprise!), but "Helen of Nowhere" shows that a novel of ideas needs, well: ideas. So my problem is not that the plot is hardly existent and, if it is, frequently nonsensical, but that the lengthy intersections that ponder concepts like the patriarchy, truth in academia, and masculinity are unsurprising and unchallenging - and that's the big difference between this and "The Vivisectors".
The novella is structured in three acts, but does not do much with the theater allegory. The first act is told from the perspective of Man, a professor who clashes with younger female faculty as they challenge his beliefs and methods from structuralist and intersectional standpoints. The university lets him go (we only get his side, so: how dare they) and his wife dumps him, although they tried to save their marriage with a tantric sex workshop in Iceland (again: how dare she). Not so fun fact: The wife used to be his student, and now she's a professor herself, which, you know, how dare she.
In the second act, Man visits a house in the countryside that is for sale, belonging to the title-giving Helen (I mean: Man taught the transcendentalists, let's see whether he really wants to live closer to nature). Realtor butters up Man and rambles on and on about the oh-so-great Helen, about a dream that screams feminism, about the problems of farmers because of greedy chemical companies, about birds, yada yada yada, and then makes it obvious: The house is a metaphor!!! Who inhabits our minds? (I asked myself whether poor spooky house pioneer Edgar Allan Poe didn't deserve better, and the answer is yes). Act three veers into the supernatiral with spirit-Helen pontificating while calling the professor "baby", and that's enough to get an idea about this effort (act five is for Wife, though, and six for Wife and Man).
All this is not exactly profound: Man is a caricature of the old white mysogynist mansplainer who has long been alimented generously by the state, babbling about nature while hating and hitting women and dogs - and when his lucky streak ends, wokeism and cancel culture and who knows what are to blame, but certainly not him. His very version of reality and his sense of self have been verbally challenged, and he freaks out - and the book rambles and rambles and rambles, much like him. Then we get intentionally bizarre commentary on masculinity, the end.
Don't pull a Milkman on us, Booker! I wouldn't shortlist this.
Granted, this is whacky and out there (which for me is always a compliment), and it's also brimming with ambition (also: very good), but at the end of the day, the question remains: Why is this relevant? Aesthetically, the idea to shift from a highly subjective justification about a life in shambles to a supernatural psychological tale is interesting, but on the content-level, it falls short. Looking at The Vivisectors (also in the Booker competition), I have to admit that I'm slightly annoyed by readers complaining that a novel of ideas is not plot driven (surprise!), but "Helen of Nowhere" shows that a novel of ideas needs, well: ideas. So my problem is not that the plot is hardly existent and, if it is, frequently nonsensical, but that the lengthy intersections that ponder concepts like the patriarchy, truth in academia, and masculinity are unsurprising and unchallenging - and that's the big difference between this and "The Vivisectors".
The novella is structured in three acts, but does not do much with the theater allegory. The first act is told from the perspective of Man, a professor who clashes with younger female faculty as they challenge his beliefs and methods from structuralist and intersectional standpoints. The university lets him go (we only get his side, so: how dare they) and his wife dumps him, although they tried to save their marriage with a tantric sex workshop in Iceland (again: how dare she). Not so fun fact: The wife used to be his student, and now she's a professor herself, which, you know, how dare she.
In the second act, Man visits a house in the countryside that is for sale, belonging to the title-giving Helen (I mean: Man taught the transcendentalists, let's see whether he really wants to live closer to nature). Realtor butters up Man and rambles on and on about the oh-so-great Helen, about a dream that screams feminism, about the problems of farmers because of greedy chemical companies, about birds, yada yada yada, and then makes it obvious: The house is a metaphor!!! Who inhabits our minds? (I asked myself whether poor spooky house pioneer Edgar Allan Poe didn't deserve better, and the answer is yes). Act three veers into the supernatiral with spirit-Helen pontificating while calling the professor "baby", and that's enough to get an idea about this effort (act five is for Wife, though, and six for Wife and Man).
All this is not exactly profound: Man is a caricature of the old white mysogynist mansplainer who has long been alimented generously by the state, babbling about nature while hating and hitting women and dogs - and when his lucky streak ends, wokeism and cancel culture and who knows what are to blame, but certainly not him. His very version of reality and his sense of self have been verbally challenged, and he freaks out - and the book rambles and rambles and rambles, much like him. Then we get intentionally bizarre commentary on masculinity, the end.
Don't pull a Milkman on us, Booker! I wouldn't shortlist this.
August 3, 2026
Why am i doing this again? I feel like every booker prize i’ve read so far has whiny men that feel wronged by modern women
For a novel barely 150 pages long, it attempts to encompass an astonishing number of contemporary discourses: gender, climate change, toxic masculinity, identity politics, academia, industrial agriculture, collapsing relationships, feminism, urban alienation, the exploitation of nature. None of these ideas are inherently uninteresting. But they exist in this novel as topics without offering a perspective that feels particularly fresh or illuminating.
There is certainly honour in wanting to explore these subjects, but simply assembling them does not produce a meaningful whole.
What ultimately disappointed me most was the imbalance between style and substance. The prose frequently draws attention to itself, but without the intellectual or emotional depth to justify it. Instead of enriching the novel's ideas, the style often obscures how little there is beneath the surface. By the end, Helen of Nowhere felt like a catalogue of contemporary anxieties.
Booker Prize 2026 longlist
For a novel barely 150 pages long, it attempts to encompass an astonishing number of contemporary discourses: gender, climate change, toxic masculinity, identity politics, academia, industrial agriculture, collapsing relationships, feminism, urban alienation, the exploitation of nature. None of these ideas are inherently uninteresting. But they exist in this novel as topics without offering a perspective that feels particularly fresh or illuminating.
There is certainly honour in wanting to explore these subjects, but simply assembling them does not produce a meaningful whole.
What ultimately disappointed me most was the imbalance between style and substance. The prose frequently draws attention to itself, but without the intellectual or emotional depth to justify it. Instead of enriching the novel's ideas, the style often obscures how little there is beneath the surface. By the end, Helen of Nowhere felt like a catalogue of contemporary anxieties.
Booker Prize 2026 longlist
July 2, 2026
I think one of the joys of being a reader is when one comes across a book and it just grabs you and leaves a profound effect. Helen of Nowhere was such a novel.
The premise is a disgraced professor leaves his hometown and is going to buy a house in the country. There he encounters a realtor who channels her mentor Helen through her. The professor and Helen have a revelatory chat.
As simple as this seems, this is a complex novel which takes the form of a philosophical enquiry. Throughout the book the professor asks if he is a genuine person and if he is living an authentic life. Eventually the discussion goes to love and how essential is it to our development.
There is a lot to think and dissect in Helen of Nowhere (note Helen means guiding light) the text itself reads breezily and contains some gently humorous observations.
HIGHLY recommended.
The premise is a disgraced professor leaves his hometown and is going to buy a house in the country. There he encounters a realtor who channels her mentor Helen through her. The professor and Helen have a revelatory chat.
As simple as this seems, this is a complex novel which takes the form of a philosophical enquiry. Throughout the book the professor asks if he is a genuine person and if he is living an authentic life. Eventually the discussion goes to love and how essential is it to our development.
There is a lot to think and dissect in Helen of Nowhere (note Helen means guiding light) the text itself reads breezily and contains some gently humorous observations.
HIGHLY recommended.
October 17, 2025
While reading it, I had no idea where this novel was going to take me, and it was so worth it for the spectacular ending!
I received this book as part of my Coffee House Press subscription for Fall 2025.
I received this book as part of my Coffee House Press subscription for Fall 2025.
July 28, 2026
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
CHARACTERS
MAN, late fifties, wool buttoned vest, arborist-style pants with a worn-in notebook crease in the back pocket, lives in the city.
REALTOR, forties, attractive hippie type, selling a house in the country.
HELEN, seventies, hardscrabble but aging well, owner of the house.
WIFE, forties, in a sunny apartment in the city.
Helen of Nowhere is the second novel by Makenna Goodman, and as the cast of characters above, and the chapters being labelled 'acts' shows, it is written in a format that nods towards plays, albeit without speech headings and stage directions.
It opens:
Act I, Man
I think it’s okay to tell a woman she’s beautiful once a year. Any more than that and her life will be about being beautiful, entirely. Anything less and she’ll feel a lack of love and attention. My wife always said I never told her she was beautiful enough. But like I said, I don’t think it’s good for women.
Someone told me that life is a collection of details you choose to pay attention to. Most of my life has been taken up by my work, but since my work has always been about observing nature, I consider my life’s work all about paying attention. This is what I told my students: The world is to be observed, and observing for its own sake is a life worth living.
The house, for example, was warm, despite its being unfurnished, with simple wooden features and beams containing echo strokes of a handheld chisel. There was a built-in couch with a dark blue fabric cushion, its edges sewn by hand, somehow both right-angled and arched in a crescent shape. Beside it, an ornate cast iron wood stove. The windows were large, single-paned. There was a piece of upright wood in the corner, a gnarled tree or trunk that had been elevated into something sculptural. Besides that, nothing but gleaming, empty space.
I was in the middle of nowhere. I was looking for a simpler life. I had driven all day, alone, to get there.
Man is a professor, or arguably former professor, in his 50s, a once celebrated neo-transcendentalist, now cancelled because, at least in his account, who he is - they called me a ‘colonial artifact’ - rather than anything he did, although the sexism that underpins his life-values is evident from his opening remarks above. Goodman has said the novel was inspired by the movements that swept campuses in 2020 in the aftermath of the George Floyd killing, although the angle her appears to be more sexism than racism.
I had been betrayed by a system that once valued mastery and now seemed only to value its redistribution. It wasn't fair, and it was dirty.
What about a moral code. A sense of decency! No true ally would have dared to stoop so low as to question the character of a man so kind, so plant-loving, so mild-mannered as I, suffering so much from being forced into the confines of these women's newly minted stereotypes of maleness, stereotypes that like all stereotypes sought to simplify, to reduce, reduce, reduce, like the theories of my colleagues, theories that were created to destroy, to dismantle and ridicule, as sheer exercises of power.
The novel is set over one day where he has come to the countryside - the middle of nowhere - to view a property, shown around it by Realtor. The house itself is owned by the eponymous Helen - the character's name a nod both to Troy and to Helen Nearing - who is now in care.
The first Act has Man exploring, with resentment, his downfall, which also led to a break-up with his wife, herself in a more junior role at the same university. The second act introduces Realtor, who in turn tells Man about Helen, but also turns out to be well informed, and probing, on his own situation.
The novel then takes an increasingly surreal turn, with Realtor offering to channel Helen as a consciousness, while another chapter - but possibly written from someone else's imagination, puts us into the thoughts of Wife.
The novel was for me at its best in the earlier Acts, particularly when the characters develop theories of categorisation - the role of Doers and Takers in an institution, or Anchors and Kites in a relationship - Man is accused by his colleagues of being a Taker, and by Wife of being a Kite that forces her to be an Anchor).
The ending of the novel is, unfortunately, a bit too obvious to be effective - it's heavily signposted throughout (although intriguingly Goodman has said this was sub-conscious, as she had not necessarily planned it) and I guessed it on page 5.
This is a novel whose form and ambition I admired - if a UK author, it would have been a Goldsmiths contender - but something of a disappointment in the execution and the latter half.
CHARACTERS
MAN, late fifties, wool buttoned vest, arborist-style pants with a worn-in notebook crease in the back pocket, lives in the city.
REALTOR, forties, attractive hippie type, selling a house in the country.
HELEN, seventies, hardscrabble but aging well, owner of the house.
WIFE, forties, in a sunny apartment in the city.
Helen of Nowhere is the second novel by Makenna Goodman, and as the cast of characters above, and the chapters being labelled 'acts' shows, it is written in a format that nods towards plays, albeit without speech headings and stage directions.
It opens:
Act I, Man
I think it’s okay to tell a woman she’s beautiful once a year. Any more than that and her life will be about being beautiful, entirely. Anything less and she’ll feel a lack of love and attention. My wife always said I never told her she was beautiful enough. But like I said, I don’t think it’s good for women.
Someone told me that life is a collection of details you choose to pay attention to. Most of my life has been taken up by my work, but since my work has always been about observing nature, I consider my life’s work all about paying attention. This is what I told my students: The world is to be observed, and observing for its own sake is a life worth living.
The house, for example, was warm, despite its being unfurnished, with simple wooden features and beams containing echo strokes of a handheld chisel. There was a built-in couch with a dark blue fabric cushion, its edges sewn by hand, somehow both right-angled and arched in a crescent shape. Beside it, an ornate cast iron wood stove. The windows were large, single-paned. There was a piece of upright wood in the corner, a gnarled tree or trunk that had been elevated into something sculptural. Besides that, nothing but gleaming, empty space.
I was in the middle of nowhere. I was looking for a simpler life. I had driven all day, alone, to get there.
Man is a professor, or arguably former professor, in his 50s, a once celebrated neo-transcendentalist, now cancelled because, at least in his account, who he is - they called me a ‘colonial artifact’ - rather than anything he did, although the sexism that underpins his life-values is evident from his opening remarks above. Goodman has said the novel was inspired by the movements that swept campuses in 2020 in the aftermath of the George Floyd killing, although the angle her appears to be more sexism than racism.
I had been betrayed by a system that once valued mastery and now seemed only to value its redistribution. It wasn't fair, and it was dirty.
What about a moral code. A sense of decency! No true ally would have dared to stoop so low as to question the character of a man so kind, so plant-loving, so mild-mannered as I, suffering so much from being forced into the confines of these women's newly minted stereotypes of maleness, stereotypes that like all stereotypes sought to simplify, to reduce, reduce, reduce, like the theories of my colleagues, theories that were created to destroy, to dismantle and ridicule, as sheer exercises of power.
The novel is set over one day where he has come to the countryside - the middle of nowhere - to view a property, shown around it by Realtor. The house itself is owned by the eponymous Helen - the character's name a nod both to Troy and to Helen Nearing - who is now in care.
The first Act has Man exploring, with resentment, his downfall, which also led to a break-up with his wife, herself in a more junior role at the same university. The second act introduces Realtor, who in turn tells Man about Helen, but also turns out to be well informed, and probing, on his own situation.
The novel then takes an increasingly surreal turn, with Realtor offering to channel Helen as a consciousness, while another chapter - but possibly written from someone else's imagination, puts us into the thoughts of Wife.
The novel was for me at its best in the earlier Acts, particularly when the characters develop theories of categorisation - the role of Doers and Takers in an institution, or Anchors and Kites in a relationship - Man is accused by his colleagues of being a Taker, and by Wife of being a Kite that forces her to be an Anchor).
The ending of the novel is, unfortunately, a bit too obvious to be effective - it's heavily signposted throughout (although intriguingly Goodman has said this was sub-conscious, as she had not necessarily planned it) and I guessed it on page 5.
This is a novel whose form and ambition I admired - if a UK author, it would have been a Goldsmiths contender - but something of a disappointment in the execution and the latter half.
July 31, 2026
Helen of Nowhere opens with a cast list of four characters (Man, Wife, Realtor, and Helen), as if it were a play, and takes place over the course of a single day. Man has recently lost his job as an English professor and is separated from Wife. Realtor shows him a house in the country that belongs to Helen, who is now in a care facility. Wife and Man have a fraught history. She gave up her own career to support his, then became the successful one, and his response to that reversal was to denigrate her achievements.
The play framing is an interesting choice for a novel, and I could picture this staged with a spare set and four actors. It begins conventionally enough, a disgraced professor trying to mend his soul by leaving the city and surrounding himself with nature. Then a mystical element enters and the book turns surreal, with Realtor inhabiting the spirit of Helen. That spirit walks Man through a questioning of his choices and beliefs, centered on his sense of entitlement, including toward Wife's success.
Goodman is asking us to consider how we see the world and what makes a person happy. This book’s structure is more interesting than its content. It is another title on the Booker longlist where the experimental style seems to matter more than whether a reader can become absorbed or invested in the story, at least going by what I have read of the list so far. If you like philosophical musings with a mystical streak, you may enjoy it more than I did.
The play framing is an interesting choice for a novel, and I could picture this staged with a spare set and four actors. It begins conventionally enough, a disgraced professor trying to mend his soul by leaving the city and surrounding himself with nature. Then a mystical element enters and the book turns surreal, with Realtor inhabiting the spirit of Helen. That spirit walks Man through a questioning of his choices and beliefs, centered on his sense of entitlement, including toward Wife's success.
Goodman is asking us to consider how we see the world and what makes a person happy. This book’s structure is more interesting than its content. It is another title on the Booker longlist where the experimental style seems to matter more than whether a reader can become absorbed or invested in the story, at least going by what I have read of the list so far. If you like philosophical musings with a mystical streak, you may enjoy it more than I did.
August 3, 2026
Not for me, I am not the right reader for this book. If you’re here for vibes rather than certainty, with a high threshold for ick factor, you might enjoy it. I could appreciate that the author really takes you right into the psyche of her central character but I didn’t want to be there.
August 1, 2026
This just didn’t work for me - lots of interesting thoughts and ideas, many beautifully articulated, but
the presentation as a whole was a bit of a miss. I can see why the Booker judges would jump on this and find it interesting and unconventional. I may come back and re-read this to see if it flows better a second time through.
the presentation as a whole was a bit of a miss. I can see why the Booker judges would jump on this and find it interesting and unconventional. I may come back and re-read this to see if it flows better a second time through.
August 30, 2025
I read Helen of Nowhere after a strange experience. I attended an author panel where one of the participants was an older author who was once quite relevant. I researched him after the event. He'd won a couple book awards and even had a movie made from one. Without getting into it too much, he was a good writer who'd lost touch with the ways in which authors achieve relevance today.
Sadly, with his latest work, he'd not only tried to keep his status and influence through well-worn means, but doubled down on his role as a sort of spokesperson in an area where truly gifted people could speak with their own voices. This resulted in most reputable publishers not being interested in his most recent book. He did finally find a press who'd take him, but this was likely due to some combination of connections and persistence. I felt sorry for him so I purchased his book, but I couldn't finish it.
As I read the first few pages of Helen of Nowhere, the parallels between the once relevant man at the book event I attended and the man in Goodman's book struck me. I should not be surprised. As the world changes, so are the ways in which we experience authentic stories and voices. But Goodman's story about once esteemed man losing his place made me laugh out loud. I also wondered aloud about my own cruelty.
After all, I'm a man who achieves daily relevance and privilege simply by being a man. The days are coming when this free pass will begin to lose it's value. I think there are many men who fear this transition down to their core. And they're attempting to find ways to recover. Many methods are tragically dark, desperate, and laughable.
For me, the protagonist's recovery at the end of Goodman's novel is among the more reasonable pathways forward. However, as the back cover blurb explains, it remains encumbered by consequence, "He will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated."
(Note: I got an early copy of this book by being a Coffee House Press subscriber.)
Sadly, with his latest work, he'd not only tried to keep his status and influence through well-worn means, but doubled down on his role as a sort of spokesperson in an area where truly gifted people could speak with their own voices. This resulted in most reputable publishers not being interested in his most recent book. He did finally find a press who'd take him, but this was likely due to some combination of connections and persistence. I felt sorry for him so I purchased his book, but I couldn't finish it.
As I read the first few pages of Helen of Nowhere, the parallels between the once relevant man at the book event I attended and the man in Goodman's book struck me. I should not be surprised. As the world changes, so are the ways in which we experience authentic stories and voices. But Goodman's story about once esteemed man losing his place made me laugh out loud. I also wondered aloud about my own cruelty.
After all, I'm a man who achieves daily relevance and privilege simply by being a man. The days are coming when this free pass will begin to lose it's value. I think there are many men who fear this transition down to their core. And they're attempting to find ways to recover. Many methods are tragically dark, desperate, and laughable.
For me, the protagonist's recovery at the end of Goodman's novel is among the more reasonable pathways forward. However, as the back cover blurb explains, it remains encumbered by consequence, "He will learn that the asking price may be much higher, and stranger, than anticipated."
(Note: I got an early copy of this book by being a Coffee House Press subscriber.)
February 5, 2026
It wasn’t clear to me what Goodman was trying to do here until the end. I found it extremely amusing, mostly because of the elaborate set up.
The joke’s set up is basically a modern feminist retelling of Dr. Faustus. In Goodman’s retelling, a ridiculously mysognistic professor tours a country home where he is seduced by a baccanal Helen figure into necromancy. The benefit of the bargain is deeply ironic.
The joke’s set up is basically a modern feminist retelling of Dr. Faustus. In Goodman’s retelling, a ridiculously mysognistic professor tours a country home where he is seduced by a baccanal Helen figure into necromancy. The benefit of the bargain is deeply ironic.
July 29, 2026
Not what I had expected. Too many philosophical wanderings and emphasis on current hot topics, gender, cancel culture, for example.
It’s the sort of speculative fiction where the effort required to read it is far greater than any reward that comes from it.
It’s the sort of speculative fiction where the effort required to read it is far greater than any reward that comes from it.
July 29, 2026
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
And yet with time, the lower I felt, the brighter she became, though to me that brightness felt punishing, like exiting a theater at midday. (7)
*
It was impossible to simply "be" in nature, she said, without complicating the notion of "nature" itself, just as a border has nothing to do with the land's actual requirements for entry or exit. In fact, she said, it wasn't nature at all that man was searching for in his desire to exist closely within it, but a projection of the desire to be without politics, which man misinterpreted as being without consciousness. Man envied this seeming consciousnessless of nature, for he knew, deep down, that ego alone would never solve the problems of the heart. (9)
*
She annihilated me by knowing things I didn't know. My desire was something about her I could control, and ultimately, marrying her was the greatest revenge against her brilliance. When she was my student, deep down, I wanted to lick up and down the route between her breasts. But she was my student, and so I kept this desire sublimated, entirely. I tell you: entirely. (20)
*
Then came the whispers, singing songs about unworthiness. They told me that the world would be better off without me. The thoughts were like knives in the head.
I would hear music filling silent rooms. The music was a reminder that I was still alive, yet I could not have heard it without the existence of a silence that contained nothing.
(24)
*
Beware the storytellers, I told my students on my last day. They'll build you a world you'll prefer to your
own. (25)
*
Often, she said, you'll see the least altruistic people using sincerity to throw their weight around. Honesty and sincerity are great ways to avoid suspicion, she would always say. (29)
*
I wasn't a smoker, but I was smoking. It was all part of the darkness I was in. The smoking, the terrible way it made me feel.
I came back in. I told her it was nice to be in the country, where nature could really express herself. (34)
*
As an act of resistance against the world of corruptible ideas and false gods, Helen rejected all notion of their existence, refusing to engage in even a memory of the parts of her life that at one point held her attention. She didn't read, didn't go to the movies, didn't listen to music other than the classical station on public radio and, even then, should the host begin a commentary on the reputation of the composer and the mark they made on music's history, she would grab for the dial and switch it off. (60)
*
But I was scared. I had learned to be frightened by my own desire.
It's a rare gift.
Go on, I urged her, go on. (62)
*
Would you have consulted the flowers? Hypothetically. (130)
*
Perhaps it was the feeling of one more chance. The world giving me a choice to love. It had been love I was looking for, the only real thing. The thing I had been searching for was, in fact, just within reach, and had been there all along. It was just that I had to move through time in a different way to return to it. (136)
And yet with time, the lower I felt, the brighter she became, though to me that brightness felt punishing, like exiting a theater at midday. (7)
*
It was impossible to simply "be" in nature, she said, without complicating the notion of "nature" itself, just as a border has nothing to do with the land's actual requirements for entry or exit. In fact, she said, it wasn't nature at all that man was searching for in his desire to exist closely within it, but a projection of the desire to be without politics, which man misinterpreted as being without consciousness. Man envied this seeming consciousnessless of nature, for he knew, deep down, that ego alone would never solve the problems of the heart. (9)
*
She annihilated me by knowing things I didn't know. My desire was something about her I could control, and ultimately, marrying her was the greatest revenge against her brilliance. When she was my student, deep down, I wanted to lick up and down the route between her breasts. But she was my student, and so I kept this desire sublimated, entirely. I tell you: entirely. (20)
*
Then came the whispers, singing songs about unworthiness. They told me that the world would be better off without me. The thoughts were like knives in the head.
I would hear music filling silent rooms. The music was a reminder that I was still alive, yet I could not have heard it without the existence of a silence that contained nothing.
(24)
*
Beware the storytellers, I told my students on my last day. They'll build you a world you'll prefer to your
own. (25)
*
Often, she said, you'll see the least altruistic people using sincerity to throw their weight around. Honesty and sincerity are great ways to avoid suspicion, she would always say. (29)
*
I wasn't a smoker, but I was smoking. It was all part of the darkness I was in. The smoking, the terrible way it made me feel.
I came back in. I told her it was nice to be in the country, where nature could really express herself. (34)
*
As an act of resistance against the world of corruptible ideas and false gods, Helen rejected all notion of their existence, refusing to engage in even a memory of the parts of her life that at one point held her attention. She didn't read, didn't go to the movies, didn't listen to music other than the classical station on public radio and, even then, should the host begin a commentary on the reputation of the composer and the mark they made on music's history, she would grab for the dial and switch it off. (60)
*
But I was scared. I had learned to be frightened by my own desire.
It's a rare gift.
Go on, I urged her, go on. (62)
*
Would you have consulted the flowers? Hypothetically. (130)
*
Perhaps it was the feeling of one more chance. The world giving me a choice to love. It had been love I was looking for, the only real thing. The thing I had been searching for was, in fact, just within reach, and had been there all along. It was just that I had to move through time in a different way to return to it. (136)
July 31, 2026
I hadn't read the blurb before I started this Booker longlisted novel/play and was surprised at each turn. The paragraphs weren't long but they were full of blazing insights and I found they required my fullest, deepest attention - and the effort was rewarding.
Goodman interviewed @ Chicago Review of Books:
"I love theater, I love that you get to suspend disbelief in such a way as to say, okay, this cardboard is the house, fine, and this piece of wood right here is a couch. You make agreements to suspend ideas of what things look like or feel like, which frees up the mind in interesting ways. I wanted the reader to become so immersed that the set began to swallow them up, in mind and in body, where reality could be completely remade. And then in the end, it spits them out. But where are you? So far, people have had really different interpretations of the ending. Some see it as redemptive, some see it as punishing. "
https://chireviewofbooks.com/2025/09/...
Goodman interviewed @ Chicago Review of Books:
"I love theater, I love that you get to suspend disbelief in such a way as to say, okay, this cardboard is the house, fine, and this piece of wood right here is a couch. You make agreements to suspend ideas of what things look like or feel like, which frees up the mind in interesting ways. I wanted the reader to become so immersed that the set began to swallow them up, in mind and in body, where reality could be completely remade. And then in the end, it spits them out. But where are you? So far, people have had really different interpretations of the ending. Some see it as redemptive, some see it as punishing. "
https://chireviewofbooks.com/2025/09/...
January 30, 2026
Holy smokes. I loved this book. Very cerebral and subtly, darkly funny then just… laugh out loud absurd which is a great combination for me. I loved The Shame for its commentary on the trend of urban to rural migration and as a fellow traveller I’m glad Makenna Goodman is continuing to take on this dynamic in smart and inventive ways. A lot of grappling with identity politics here, and for the most part I thought it was fairly nuanced, and even somewhat sympathetic (though others will probably disagree with this) though the ending pretty much turned that on it’s head. Somewhat heavy handed 🤣 but also literally made me gasp in delight so I’ll forgive that. Anyways can’t wait to re read this. More weird novels in 2026
January 28, 2026
1.5
Stylistically leaden and surprisingly lacking in provocation. All the expected blurbs (except my shock at Cusk's (unsurprising given the material) endorsement) are present for a narrative of gender war and empathy and cancel culture and regression and artificial divinity in nature. Boring.
Stylistically leaden and surprisingly lacking in provocation. All the expected blurbs (except my shock at Cusk's (unsurprising given the material) endorsement) are present for a narrative of gender war and empathy and cancel culture and regression and artificial divinity in nature. Boring.
July 31, 2026
Moral of the story: don't marry you're colleague/mentor. Better yet, don't marry academics.
August 4, 2026
Helen of Nowhere by Makenna Goodman
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize, Goodman’s second novel is formally adventurous — written in six acts with a pared‑down cast list that nods toward theater.
The premise is deceptively simple: a disgraced professor tours a countryside house, guided by a probing realtor, while the enigmatic Helen hovers as a spectral presence. Goodman asks what we must give up in exchange for happiness, but the novel also interrogates power, gender, and institutional betrayal.
The early acts are strongest, with sharp theories of categorization — Doers vs. Takers, Anchors vs. Kites — and a biting portrait of a man undone by his own blind spots. Later, the surreal turns (Realtor channeling Helen, Wife’s perspective) feel less assured, and the ending, heavily signposted, lands with diminished force.
I admired the ambition and the play‑like form, but the execution falters. It's a novel that is daring, destabilizing, and uneven. Goodman reminds us that the price of paradise is never listed on the brochure.
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize, Goodman’s second novel is formally adventurous — written in six acts with a pared‑down cast list that nods toward theater.
The premise is deceptively simple: a disgraced professor tours a countryside house, guided by a probing realtor, while the enigmatic Helen hovers as a spectral presence. Goodman asks what we must give up in exchange for happiness, but the novel also interrogates power, gender, and institutional betrayal.
The early acts are strongest, with sharp theories of categorization — Doers vs. Takers, Anchors vs. Kites — and a biting portrait of a man undone by his own blind spots. Later, the surreal turns (Realtor channeling Helen, Wife’s perspective) feel less assured, and the ending, heavily signposted, lands with diminished force.
I admired the ambition and the play‑like form, but the execution falters. It's a novel that is daring, destabilizing, and uneven. Goodman reminds us that the price of paradise is never listed on the brochure.
July 29, 2026
Men really are dogs bro
2.5
2.5
September 9, 2025
Unfortunately this book wasn't for me. There were definitely some great passages that resonated with me. There are a lot of deeply philosophical type musings being conveyed here. However, I find the writing as a whole just a little too abstract for me. I typically enjoy weird and out there type of books, but this one was a little too much even for me. Hopefully it works for you!
Thanks to Coffee House Press for the ARC in exchange for my honest review!
Thanks to Coffee House Press for the ARC in exchange for my honest review!
May 30, 2026
Say the main character is actually a built in couch. Act 5 grated on me by using ‘say you’ too many times. By the end I was confused as to whether the husband was in fact the dog, wanting to be looked after and having his ears rubbed.
February 11, 2026
Goodman’s Helen of Nowhere is performed in six acts. Readers witness the old professor receive intense criticism for his cis-het methodology in approaching his research on the transcendentalists. A younger colleague challenges his work, and with the changing of the guards and with his wife definitively deciding to end their marriage, he retreats to the countryside. The realtor showing him the house also used to live with Helen, the owner. During the viewing, the realtor notes the professor’s similarities with Helen, and she describes Helen with divine attributes of pure consciousness, beyond form, healer, and a kind of all-encompassing love. Then, she conducts a seance in which she’s the medium; the professor asks Helen about love. Helen appears as a ghost or apparition, counseling the professor to undergo a purification ritual to call for his true self, his ego. In Act 5, Goodman seems to double back to retell the story, though this time, with commentary.
There is a Kitamura’s Audition flavor to Goodman’s work insofar as we consider the masks we put on to play our self-assigned roles in various contexts. The professor can’t synthesize his wife’s unhappiness; or, more precisely, he surmises that “she was always menstruating or about to menstruate or recovering from menstruating, and I reminded her of it when her time was coming, for I had tuned in so devotedly to her cycle I could predict an outburst.” He fixates on her menstrual cycle as the source of her moods, and he can’t conceive that he could be a source of her frustration. Unfortunately, that is the extent of my understanding of Helen of Nowhere. My questions abound: Who is Helen? Where is Helen? Who is the realtor? Is this a dog narrating Act 6? A baby? I look forward to the help of others’ reviews I’ll read.
My favorite part of Goodman’s book is the vocab words.
Thanks to Coffee House Press and Edelweiss for a DRC.
There is a Kitamura’s Audition flavor to Goodman’s work insofar as we consider the masks we put on to play our self-assigned roles in various contexts. The professor can’t synthesize his wife’s unhappiness; or, more precisely, he surmises that “she was always menstruating or about to menstruate or recovering from menstruating, and I reminded her of it when her time was coming, for I had tuned in so devotedly to her cycle I could predict an outburst.” He fixates on her menstrual cycle as the source of her moods, and he can’t conceive that he could be a source of her frustration. Unfortunately, that is the extent of my understanding of Helen of Nowhere. My questions abound: Who is Helen? Where is Helen? Who is the realtor? Is this a dog narrating Act 6? A baby? I look forward to the help of others’ reviews I’ll read.
My favorite part of Goodman’s book is the vocab words.
Thanks to Coffee House Press and Edelweiss for a DRC.
July 18, 2026
I can't quite put my finger on why this didn't engage me, but it didn't. I found a lot of the monologues ponderous.
February 7, 2026
No plot just vibes. And the vibes are confusing. I was excited for a book about a disgraced male professor who’s trying to convince us he’s a good guy. But it went left quickly, got weird and pushed me beyond my limit with speculative fiction.
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