What do you think?
Switzy
A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
10 pages, Audiobook
First published September 8, 2026
About the author
Emma Cline
18 books5,057 followersEmma Cline is an American writer and novelist, originally from California. She published her first novel, "The Girls", in 2016, to positive reviews. The book was shortlisted for the John Leonard Award from the National Book Critics Circle and the Center for Fiction's First Novel Prize.
Her stories have been published in The New Yorker, Tin House, Granta and The Paris Review.
In 2017 Cline was named one of Granta's Best Young American Novelists.
Her stories have been published in The New Yorker, Tin House, Granta and The Paris Review.
In 2017 Cline was named one of Granta's Best Young American Novelists.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,342 reviews
September 1, 2026
if this book doesn't change my life i'm going to file a formal complaint
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Now Longlisted for the Booker Prize 2026
This is a very, very hard read for anyone really - the protagonist is in that terrifying state of Alzheimer's when the mind registers its own rapid decline, trapping the patient in a position of helplessness, as the disease will at some point inevitably win. This is a destiny that could await any of us, and if you happen to have lived with a friend of family member who suffered an illness related to progressive memory loss (as I did), this novel is all the more devastating - I felt like crying from 10% in to the very end.
Cline's protagonist is David Hastings, a divorced former CFO in his 70's who is travelling to Zurich to end his life in an assisted suicide before his illness deteriorates further. This novel is not here to judge or even discuss the morality or immorality of suicide or organisations that help people with it; rather, it tells the tale of one specific man in mental decline who takes his final trip. We meet David on a private plane to Switzerland with his assistant Cody, so a paid person, not a loved one will be with him when he dies. Before he gets to his last destination, the Swiss clinic, he stops over in London to meet his daughter Rebecca and travels to France to meet a friend from his school days whom he failed in a haunting act of youthful cowardice.
In a way, this novel is very conservatively written, there is no po-mo extravaganza or three-dimensional chess, and while I love whacky stuff like fellow nominee The Vivisectors, this delivers on emotional intensity and creates a shocking understanding of a shattering mind: Failing memories, intruding thoughts and images, grasping at straws, fugue states, being angered by the reflection of oneself seen in others, because they are a testament of one's own loss of control. David was an influential, respected man, now some assistant has to point out his stained clothes and remind him where he is - for a man of his generation, this is even harder to deal with. This feeling is hightened by the effects of the changing world around aging David (which prompted me to wonder how younger generations will feel about this, as the change is ever accelerating). At the same time, while he doesn't utter open regret, readers will ponder how he ended up so lonely, why he failed himself when it comes to love by always remaining emotionally distant.
No, David is not a likeable grandpa figure, he's a very messy old white man who made some bad decisions along the way and failed the ones he should have loved better, but his deep humanity renders this tale heart-wrenching. A very worthy Booker contender that could go far.
This is a very, very hard read for anyone really - the protagonist is in that terrifying state of Alzheimer's when the mind registers its own rapid decline, trapping the patient in a position of helplessness, as the disease will at some point inevitably win. This is a destiny that could await any of us, and if you happen to have lived with a friend of family member who suffered an illness related to progressive memory loss (as I did), this novel is all the more devastating - I felt like crying from 10% in to the very end.
Cline's protagonist is David Hastings, a divorced former CFO in his 70's who is travelling to Zurich to end his life in an assisted suicide before his illness deteriorates further. This novel is not here to judge or even discuss the morality or immorality of suicide or organisations that help people with it; rather, it tells the tale of one specific man in mental decline who takes his final trip. We meet David on a private plane to Switzerland with his assistant Cody, so a paid person, not a loved one will be with him when he dies. Before he gets to his last destination, the Swiss clinic, he stops over in London to meet his daughter Rebecca and travels to France to meet a friend from his school days whom he failed in a haunting act of youthful cowardice.
In a way, this novel is very conservatively written, there is no po-mo extravaganza or three-dimensional chess, and while I love whacky stuff like fellow nominee The Vivisectors, this delivers on emotional intensity and creates a shocking understanding of a shattering mind: Failing memories, intruding thoughts and images, grasping at straws, fugue states, being angered by the reflection of oneself seen in others, because they are a testament of one's own loss of control. David was an influential, respected man, now some assistant has to point out his stained clothes and remind him where he is - for a man of his generation, this is even harder to deal with. This feeling is hightened by the effects of the changing world around aging David (which prompted me to wonder how younger generations will feel about this, as the change is ever accelerating). At the same time, while he doesn't utter open regret, readers will ponder how he ended up so lonely, why he failed himself when it comes to love by always remaining emotionally distant.
No, David is not a likeable grandpa figure, he's a very messy old white man who made some bad decisions along the way and failed the ones he should have loved better, but his deep humanity renders this tale heart-wrenching. A very worthy Booker contender that could go far.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
[3.5 stars] An interesting pivot for Cline. I'll join the chorus of commentary saying that this is unexpected and feels like an intentional departure from her previous titles. With that said, I think Switzy borrows a lot of the successful storytelling techniques from The Guest — the plot once again takes place over a few days, and our protagonist's past is only offered to the reader in fleeting flashbacks.
Cline's stories are fascinating because they don't shy away from the expected; in all three of her novels, the ending is deliberately telegraphed from the beginning. Switzy is perhaps the most telegraphed of the three, yet I found myself unable to put it down. For a 350+ page book, it reads incredibly quickly.
As David grapples with his rapidly progressing Alzheimer's disease, there is a deliberate repetition and blurring of time that places the reader squarely in his perspective. There are reflections on mortality, estrangement, and the fact that we eventually all become strangers to the world we inhabit. I found myself wanting a deeper dissection of the latter theme — David makes several allusions to technology, cultural shifts, and the intangible strangeness that modernity presents — but these allusions are shy.
There's a lot Switzy does right, yet I can't help but feel some degree of disappointment that the premise is not particularly fresh. On a technical level, the prose is excellent, and it avoids the banalities that similar books often delve into (I don't need an asinine lecture on the ethics of medically assisted death). By the conclusion of the novel, David's story still feels half written, which I personally didn't mind, but I would anticipate will leave some readers dissatisfied.
I'm in two minds because I do think that Cline is a writer worthy of plenty of accolades, but I'm not sure if Switzy is her best showing. An enjoyable read (despite my laundry list of complaints, I still think a four-star rating is appropriate), but certainly more commercial than her previous releases. Thank you to the publisher for the ARC.
---
Emma Cline returning in 2026… oh it’s gonna be a good year... I rarely read about MEN, but I trust her wholeheartedly xx
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Cline's stories are fascinating because they don't shy away from the expected; in all three of her novels, the ending is deliberately telegraphed from the beginning. Switzy is perhaps the most telegraphed of the three, yet I found myself unable to put it down. For a 350+ page book, it reads incredibly quickly.
As David grapples with his rapidly progressing Alzheimer's disease, there is a deliberate repetition and blurring of time that places the reader squarely in his perspective. There are reflections on mortality, estrangement, and the fact that we eventually all become strangers to the world we inhabit. I found myself wanting a deeper dissection of the latter theme — David makes several allusions to technology, cultural shifts, and the intangible strangeness that modernity presents — but these allusions are shy.
There's a lot Switzy does right, yet I can't help but feel some degree of disappointment that the premise is not particularly fresh. On a technical level, the prose is excellent, and it avoids the banalities that similar books often delve into (I don't need an asinine lecture on the ethics of medically assisted death). By the conclusion of the novel, David's story still feels half written, which I personally didn't mind, but I would anticipate will leave some readers dissatisfied.
I'm in two minds because I do think that Cline is a writer worthy of plenty of accolades, but I'm not sure if Switzy is her best showing. An enjoyable read (despite my laundry list of complaints, I still think a four-star rating is appropriate), but certainly more commercial than her previous releases. Thank you to the publisher for the ARC.
---
Emma Cline returning in 2026… oh it’s gonna be a good year... I rarely read about MEN, but I trust her wholeheartedly xx
Substack | Bookstagram | BookTok | BookTube | Bookshop.org Store | Libro.fm Bonus Offer
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Pogo stick time!
Ah, finally, a book that sent me bouncing—and blabbing about how good it is! Oh I am so excited! The language is to die for! It opens with a demented man, David, and his assistant, Cody, on a plane to Switzerland.
David is always trying to grasp what is really going on. Often he is clueless or misinterprets what’s happening. And while he’s trying to hold on for dear life, snippets of long-ago memories come into his head. Through these memories, we get a real sense of what his life was like before he started slipping.
Why I loved it:
-Every word is carefully placed. And every word counts; not an extraneous word to be had. I was mesmerized! This writer means business, and she is a master of her craft! In awe, simply in awe.
-The style is sort of stream-of-consciousness and it has this cool rhythm, like jazz. You can always seduce me with language that dances like this. Cha cha cha!
-There’s word play. Oh heaven help me, I’m a goner! One of my favorites is sodium pinot-barbiedoll (meaning sodium Pentothal, of course)! David hears and says things that are not quite right, but close. Some very funny phrases to be had!
-The book is full of insights. I highlighted a lot. Yum!
-Wow did I ever feel like I was seeing the world through the eyes of someone with Alzheimer’s! Through David’s eyes, everything is off-kilter, wrong, strange, confusing.
-David’s interactions are fascinating and intense, especially with his daughter and a long-lost friend. I was at attention, savoring every word, wondering what would happen next. I was usually embarrassed for David, and I sweated out people’s uncomfortable reaction to him. People have such trouble trying to handle someone with dementia, and the author conveys this discomfort, this awkwardness, beautifully. Yum yum again.
-This story is told in third person. What?? How to get so deeply inside someone’s head if the story isn’t told in first person? It’s bizarre (and brilliant) that we get to see David’s world so clearly. David sees things through a glaze, as his memories fade in and out and his mind plays tricks on him, yet at the same time, objects stand out in high relief. Very trippy. Conversations seem vague and weird and often hushed. There’s some unreliable narrating going on, as David’s take on reality isn’t to be trusted. I love me an unreliable narrator!
-David is a rich, aloof person. I was surprised I was fond of him, since he wasn’t personable or relatable. A skilled author, that’s what’s going on here!
A few (of many) favorite quotes:
“… the day would come and he’d find that the contents of his brain had been excised with an ice cream scoop instead of these dainty little teaspoons, here and there.”
“He was sometimes a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.”
“Amyloid plaque, the doctor said so often, often enough that David started hearing it as Amy Lloyd plaque. I hate you, Amy Lloyd, he thought idly.”
I loved Cline’s The Girls. This is a totally different kind of story, which shows the author’s range. I just read that this book is long-listed for the Booker Prize. It’s deserved—and exciting!
This is a sad book, but beautiful. I hardly ever recommend reading a blurb, but the Goodreads blurb is excellent and it does not give spoilers. Check it out.
This is how it’s done, folks. Kudos to Cline! Highly recommended!
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
Expected publication date: September 8, 2026
Ah, finally, a book that sent me bouncing—and blabbing about how good it is! Oh I am so excited! The language is to die for! It opens with a demented man, David, and his assistant, Cody, on a plane to Switzerland.
David is always trying to grasp what is really going on. Often he is clueless or misinterprets what’s happening. And while he’s trying to hold on for dear life, snippets of long-ago memories come into his head. Through these memories, we get a real sense of what his life was like before he started slipping.
Why I loved it:
-Every word is carefully placed. And every word counts; not an extraneous word to be had. I was mesmerized! This writer means business, and she is a master of her craft! In awe, simply in awe.
-The style is sort of stream-of-consciousness and it has this cool rhythm, like jazz. You can always seduce me with language that dances like this. Cha cha cha!
-There’s word play. Oh heaven help me, I’m a goner! One of my favorites is sodium pinot-barbiedoll (meaning sodium Pentothal, of course)! David hears and says things that are not quite right, but close. Some very funny phrases to be had!
-The book is full of insights. I highlighted a lot. Yum!
-Wow did I ever feel like I was seeing the world through the eyes of someone with Alzheimer’s! Through David’s eyes, everything is off-kilter, wrong, strange, confusing.
-David’s interactions are fascinating and intense, especially with his daughter and a long-lost friend. I was at attention, savoring every word, wondering what would happen next. I was usually embarrassed for David, and I sweated out people’s uncomfortable reaction to him. People have such trouble trying to handle someone with dementia, and the author conveys this discomfort, this awkwardness, beautifully. Yum yum again.
-This story is told in third person. What?? How to get so deeply inside someone’s head if the story isn’t told in first person? It’s bizarre (and brilliant) that we get to see David’s world so clearly. David sees things through a glaze, as his memories fade in and out and his mind plays tricks on him, yet at the same time, objects stand out in high relief. Very trippy. Conversations seem vague and weird and often hushed. There’s some unreliable narrating going on, as David’s take on reality isn’t to be trusted. I love me an unreliable narrator!
-David is a rich, aloof person. I was surprised I was fond of him, since he wasn’t personable or relatable. A skilled author, that’s what’s going on here!
A few (of many) favorite quotes:
“… the day would come and he’d find that the contents of his brain had been excised with an ice cream scoop instead of these dainty little teaspoons, here and there.”
“He was sometimes a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.”
“Amyloid plaque, the doctor said so often, often enough that David started hearing it as Amy Lloyd plaque. I hate you, Amy Lloyd, he thought idly.”
I loved Cline’s The Girls. This is a totally different kind of story, which shows the author’s range. I just read that this book is long-listed for the Booker Prize. It’s deserved—and exciting!
This is a sad book, but beautiful. I hardly ever recommend reading a blurb, but the Goodreads blurb is excellent and it does not give spoilers. Check it out.
This is how it’s done, folks. Kudos to Cline! Highly recommended!
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
Expected publication date: September 8, 2026
August 21, 2026
I wasn’t planning on reading this at first, passing on an invitation to read the ARC . I had recently read a novel with one of the characters suffering with Alzheimer’s and it was heartbreaking. Then I read Debbie’s review and thought I should give it a try. There’s no mistaking that this is a sad story as a man makes his a final journey with no one with him besides an assistant doing his job without any compassion that’s visible.
A man trying to hold on to his present, his life , struggling to come to grips . An imagining of what it must be like to forget, to remember, and forget, to sometimes know what is happening and not be able to control it. At the same time, we get a feeling for what his life was like before, we see a flawed man. A visit with his daughter and an old friend before reaching the final destination of his journey in Zurich felt empty without any reconciliation.
In a stream of consciousness like narration, moving from the present to the past and back to the present, from confusion to moments of clarity and back, with a few moments of levity. Cline’s imagining seems believable . Who knows how real these feelings and observations are? We can only imagine. Kudos to her for causing us to do so.
I received a copy of this from Random House through NetGalley.
A man trying to hold on to his present, his life , struggling to come to grips . An imagining of what it must be like to forget, to remember, and forget, to sometimes know what is happening and not be able to control it. At the same time, we get a feeling for what his life was like before, we see a flawed man. A visit with his daughter and an old friend before reaching the final destination of his journey in Zurich felt empty without any reconciliation.
In a stream of consciousness like narration, moving from the present to the past and back to the present, from confusion to moments of clarity and back, with a few moments of levity. Cline’s imagining seems believable . Who knows how real these feelings and observations are? We can only imagine. Kudos to her for causing us to do so.
I received a copy of this from Random House through NetGalley.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Racing Away from the Finish Line
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize, Emma Cline’s third novel, “Switzy,” stands among my favorite books of the year. The story offers a hypnotic, haunting, and deeply poignant portrait of David Hastings, a retired executive entering the final, delicate stage of his life.
Though built upon a deceptively simple premise, the story unfolds into a deeply moving and intimate character study. David, who is navigating the early stages of Alzheimer’s– a condition the author intentionally avoids naming– sets out on a final journey across Europe toward Zurich, where he plans to utilize assisted-death services. What follows is a devastating portrait of decline that manages to turn the messy, fragmented reality of cognitive decline into a coherent narrative achievement.
Cline reportedly conducted extensive research into the medical realities of Alzheimer’s, and the result is nothing short of remarkable. It is difficult to comprehend how she captured the visceral experience of a deteriorating mind—the misheard words, the sudden loss of self-recognition, the desperate grasp for "mental breadcrumbs"—so vividly without having endured it personally. The level of detail makes the text feel uncomfortably real, transforming what could have been a clinical observation into an immersive, fever-dream experience.
David’s internal evolution is portrayed with striking authenticity. Beyond his fading memory, his diminishing independence is revealed through his defense mechanisms and evolving sense of reality. While David is not inherently a likable figure, our empathy stems from connecting with his internal battle. This poignant, evocative portrait of cognitive decline speaks deeply not only to those who have witnessed a loved one slowly dissolve, but with anyone reflecting on their own future and the limits of their own agency.
The heart of the book lies in the quiet, heartbreaking moments where David attempts to reconcile his past compromises with his present reality. “Switzy” is an uneasy, haunting work of fiction that leaves an indelible mark, forcing you to pause and reflect on the final glimpses of a life. It is an extraordinary, perceptive achievement that will resonate for a long time.
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review. #Switzy #NetGalley
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize, Emma Cline’s third novel, “Switzy,” stands among my favorite books of the year. The story offers a hypnotic, haunting, and deeply poignant portrait of David Hastings, a retired executive entering the final, delicate stage of his life.
Though built upon a deceptively simple premise, the story unfolds into a deeply moving and intimate character study. David, who is navigating the early stages of Alzheimer’s– a condition the author intentionally avoids naming– sets out on a final journey across Europe toward Zurich, where he plans to utilize assisted-death services. What follows is a devastating portrait of decline that manages to turn the messy, fragmented reality of cognitive decline into a coherent narrative achievement.
Cline reportedly conducted extensive research into the medical realities of Alzheimer’s, and the result is nothing short of remarkable. It is difficult to comprehend how she captured the visceral experience of a deteriorating mind—the misheard words, the sudden loss of self-recognition, the desperate grasp for "mental breadcrumbs"—so vividly without having endured it personally. The level of detail makes the text feel uncomfortably real, transforming what could have been a clinical observation into an immersive, fever-dream experience.
David’s internal evolution is portrayed with striking authenticity. Beyond his fading memory, his diminishing independence is revealed through his defense mechanisms and evolving sense of reality. While David is not inherently a likable figure, our empathy stems from connecting with his internal battle. This poignant, evocative portrait of cognitive decline speaks deeply not only to those who have witnessed a loved one slowly dissolve, but with anyone reflecting on their own future and the limits of their own agency.
The heart of the book lies in the quiet, heartbreaking moments where David attempts to reconcile his past compromises with his present reality. “Switzy” is an uneasy, haunting work of fiction that leaves an indelible mark, forcing you to pause and reflect on the final glimpses of a life. It is an extraordinary, perceptive achievement that will resonate for a long time.
Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance reader copy in exchange for an honest review. #Switzy #NetGalley
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
How did Emma Cline get inside the mind of a privileged, unenlightened septuagenarian man suffering from dementia? Who did she study? Because although this is a work of fiction, Cline’s imagining of the final days of her protagonist, David Hastings, a retired executive, feels unnervingly true and real.
The novel follows David as he embarks upon his final undertaking: flying to Zurich to legally end his life.
Through David’s fleeting, fragmented, and often random thoughts, the reader gradually pieces together the contours of his life--and David wasn’t always kind, nor was he particularly introspective. He is divorced and estranged from his daughter, and one incident from high school remains a source of genuine regret. Now that he has chosen the circumstances of his death, the question becomes: How will he spend his remaining days? Can he make amends for the harm he has caused? And, at this point, is that even possible?
David is accompanied by his devoted personal assistant, whom he nevertheless suspects of stealing from him. Before his diagnosis, David was also responsible for some questionable and increasingly erratic business dealings, but Cline wisely leaves much of what actually happened for the reader to decipher. We experience events as David does--in spurts of memory, flashes of suspicion, moments of tenderness, and deeply uncomfortable recollections.
Reading the novel is at times akin to inhabiting a fever dream. The chapters are short, fragmented, and powerful, mirroring a mind that can no longer reliably distinguish memory from interpretation.
This is an uneasy work of fiction, the kind that causes the reader to pause and reflect. What thoughts would occupy our minds if we were given a terminal diagnosis and knew the exact date of our death? As we accompany David on his painful journey down memory lane, we see what bubbles to the surface during his own “last reel”--the moments his mind has chosen to preserve, whether he wants them there or not.
Most compelling is the reckoning beneath it all. With time running out, David is forced to confront the personal mythology he constructed around success, power, family, and his own behavior. Cline never asks us to excuse him or even necessarily to like him. Instead, she does something far more interesting: she asks us to inhabit his mind as it begins to fail him.
Uncomfortable, haunting, and extraordinarily perceptive.
Simply brilliant.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Publishing for the early ARC. Expected publication date: September 8, 2026.
The novel follows David as he embarks upon his final undertaking: flying to Zurich to legally end his life.
Through David’s fleeting, fragmented, and often random thoughts, the reader gradually pieces together the contours of his life--and David wasn’t always kind, nor was he particularly introspective. He is divorced and estranged from his daughter, and one incident from high school remains a source of genuine regret. Now that he has chosen the circumstances of his death, the question becomes: How will he spend his remaining days? Can he make amends for the harm he has caused? And, at this point, is that even possible?
David is accompanied by his devoted personal assistant, whom he nevertheless suspects of stealing from him. Before his diagnosis, David was also responsible for some questionable and increasingly erratic business dealings, but Cline wisely leaves much of what actually happened for the reader to decipher. We experience events as David does--in spurts of memory, flashes of suspicion, moments of tenderness, and deeply uncomfortable recollections.
Reading the novel is at times akin to inhabiting a fever dream. The chapters are short, fragmented, and powerful, mirroring a mind that can no longer reliably distinguish memory from interpretation.
This is an uneasy work of fiction, the kind that causes the reader to pause and reflect. What thoughts would occupy our minds if we were given a terminal diagnosis and knew the exact date of our death? As we accompany David on his painful journey down memory lane, we see what bubbles to the surface during his own “last reel”--the moments his mind has chosen to preserve, whether he wants them there or not.
Most compelling is the reckoning beneath it all. With time running out, David is forced to confront the personal mythology he constructed around success, power, family, and his own behavior. Cline never asks us to excuse him or even necessarily to like him. Instead, she does something far more interesting: she asks us to inhabit his mind as it begins to fail him.
Uncomfortable, haunting, and extraordinarily perceptive.
Simply brilliant.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Publishing for the early ARC. Expected publication date: September 8, 2026.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I am a huge Emma Cline fan and this novel is so masterful, and so unexpected, because it inhabits a completely different register from her previous novels, that I am feeling something like stunned disbelief, along with the afterglow of having just completed and extraordinary and extraordinarily moving novel.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
A stream of conscious narration of a man’s last journey.
David Hastings is a retired executive in his 70’s that has Alzheimers and he is traveling to Switzerland with his assistant to voluntarily end his life.
The author does such a fantastic job of portraying what the mind must do in an Alzheimer’s patient, makes you think she must have someone close to her with or having had the disease.
As this few days of his journey progresses, we learn more about him and the life he led.
This was a very immersing and affecting read.
4.5
Thank you to NetGalley and Random house for the free ebook in exchange for an honest review.
David Hastings is a retired executive in his 70’s that has Alzheimers and he is traveling to Switzerland with his assistant to voluntarily end his life.
The author does such a fantastic job of portraying what the mind must do in an Alzheimer’s patient, makes you think she must have someone close to her with or having had the disease.
As this few days of his journey progresses, we learn more about him and the life he led.
This was a very immersing and affecting read.
4.5
Thank you to NetGalley and Random house for the free ebook in exchange for an honest review.
September 8, 2026
We just don’t do gonzo publishing stories like we used to.
Twelve years ago, publicity focused on Emma Cline like sunlight through a magnifying glass. The 25-year-old unpublished novelist had secured a three-book deal reportedly worth $2 million. In 2016, The Girls, her hot debut novel — inspired by the Manson family, no less! — was the “it” book of the season, sparking enthusiastic reviews (my own included), gauzy profiles, and talk of a movie (still unmade, though Antoneta Alamat Kusijanović is rumored to direct it this fall).
As so rarely happens, that unhinged enthusiasm proved largely on point. Cline followed up with a superb story collection, Daddy, and then another fine novel, The Guest, about a young escort running out of time and money in the Hamptons.
Her new novel, Switzy, is the first to move beyond the heliosphere of that initial blaze of glory, though it’s already been longlisted for the Booker Prize and an excerpt ran last month in The New Yorker. The subject excites none of the lurid frisson of the Manson cult or the foundering of a sex worker. No longer writing about the way women contend with men, Cline has turned her attention to the way an old man contends with mortality. It’s about as sexy as compression socks.
David Hastings is a wealthy businessman shunted into retirement after committing an expensive financial error, probably caused by Alzheimer’s.
“It wasn’t technically early-onset,” he claims. Though he’s in his 70s, “it probably always felt early, no matter how old you were.”
That’s David’s voice — or the complicated sum of David and Cline’s voices, which allows Switzy to glide down the asymptote of his consciousness, approaching disintegration while articulating the descent. As a work of narrative technique, it’s astonishing; as a journey of emotional concentration, it’s harrowing. Cline has a profound grasp of the muscle memory of social interaction, the extent to which David can act the part of a thoughtful older gentleman with the right gestures and asides, long after he has little idea what’s happening.
We meet David when he’s already en route to Zurich, where he’s scheduled to end his life by assisted suicide. As befits a man of his consequence and executive privilege, he’s...
You can read the rest of this review for free on Substack:
https://roncharles.substack.com/p/emm...
Twelve years ago, publicity focused on Emma Cline like sunlight through a magnifying glass. The 25-year-old unpublished novelist had secured a three-book deal reportedly worth $2 million. In 2016, The Girls, her hot debut novel — inspired by the Manson family, no less! — was the “it” book of the season, sparking enthusiastic reviews (my own included), gauzy profiles, and talk of a movie (still unmade, though Antoneta Alamat Kusijanović is rumored to direct it this fall).
As so rarely happens, that unhinged enthusiasm proved largely on point. Cline followed up with a superb story collection, Daddy, and then another fine novel, The Guest, about a young escort running out of time and money in the Hamptons.
Her new novel, Switzy, is the first to move beyond the heliosphere of that initial blaze of glory, though it’s already been longlisted for the Booker Prize and an excerpt ran last month in The New Yorker. The subject excites none of the lurid frisson of the Manson cult or the foundering of a sex worker. No longer writing about the way women contend with men, Cline has turned her attention to the way an old man contends with mortality. It’s about as sexy as compression socks.
David Hastings is a wealthy businessman shunted into retirement after committing an expensive financial error, probably caused by Alzheimer’s.
“It wasn’t technically early-onset,” he claims. Though he’s in his 70s, “it probably always felt early, no matter how old you were.”
That’s David’s voice — or the complicated sum of David and Cline’s voices, which allows Switzy to glide down the asymptote of his consciousness, approaching disintegration while articulating the descent. As a work of narrative technique, it’s astonishing; as a journey of emotional concentration, it’s harrowing. Cline has a profound grasp of the muscle memory of social interaction, the extent to which David can act the part of a thoughtful older gentleman with the right gestures and asides, long after he has little idea what’s happening.
We meet David when he’s already en route to Zurich, where he’s scheduled to end his life by assisted suicide. As befits a man of his consequence and executive privilege, he’s...
You can read the rest of this review for free on Substack:
https://roncharles.substack.com/p/emm...
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE
Stunned into silence, mind blown. Cline plunges us down a claustrophobic rabbit hole into the dimming and flickering consciousness of a slippery and unreliable narrator, an elderly man spending the last few days of his life in weightless European luxury. Diagnosed with Alzheimer's, David Hastings is desperate to die on his own terms, and has scheduled a euthanasia appointment in a Zurich clinic to end his life, before he is no longer compos mentis.
Once a successful mid-level finance executive, David has made a dimly-recalled career-ending mistake, and failed in the ordinary, banal ways as a husband, father, and friend. While he feels little active regret for a life poorly lived, his repressed memories keep surfacing, far more vivid than his vague disengagement with the present moment, where he is losing his mind, intermittently forgetful, and relaxing his grasp on external reality.
Accompanied by his young assistant and minder Cody, who is stage-managing his descent with limited compassion but corporate efficiency, David borrows his boss's old private jet for one final journey across the Atlantic. We realize the impossibility of his having a genuine, vulnerable conversation with the people he cannot admit he loves. Stopping in London, he can't bring himself to say goodbye to his narcissistic adult daughter, or to apologize to an old friend from boarding school. Being a baby-boomer American male has deformed his personality and repressed his sexuality, and alienated him from the technologically-obsessed younger generations.
While the subject matter was inescapably bleak, this was a hypnotic reading experience, leavened by ridiculous puns and uncanny juxtapositions. Cline narrates this with cold, clinical control, which that leaves sufficient room for the reader to be emotionally moved without manipulation or pathos. Highly recommended, and hoping this makes the shortlist.
Thanks to Random House and Netgalley for sharing a free ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
US publication date: September 8, 2026
Stunned into silence, mind blown. Cline plunges us down a claustrophobic rabbit hole into the dimming and flickering consciousness of a slippery and unreliable narrator, an elderly man spending the last few days of his life in weightless European luxury. Diagnosed with Alzheimer's, David Hastings is desperate to die on his own terms, and has scheduled a euthanasia appointment in a Zurich clinic to end his life, before he is no longer compos mentis.
Once a successful mid-level finance executive, David has made a dimly-recalled career-ending mistake, and failed in the ordinary, banal ways as a husband, father, and friend. While he feels little active regret for a life poorly lived, his repressed memories keep surfacing, far more vivid than his vague disengagement with the present moment, where he is losing his mind, intermittently forgetful, and relaxing his grasp on external reality.
Accompanied by his young assistant and minder Cody, who is stage-managing his descent with limited compassion but corporate efficiency, David borrows his boss's old private jet for one final journey across the Atlantic. We realize the impossibility of his having a genuine, vulnerable conversation with the people he cannot admit he loves. Stopping in London, he can't bring himself to say goodbye to his narcissistic adult daughter, or to apologize to an old friend from boarding school. Being a baby-boomer American male has deformed his personality and repressed his sexuality, and alienated him from the technologically-obsessed younger generations.
While the subject matter was inescapably bleak, this was a hypnotic reading experience, leavened by ridiculous puns and uncanny juxtapositions. Cline narrates this with cold, clinical control, which that leaves sufficient room for the reader to be emotionally moved without manipulation or pathos. Highly recommended, and hoping this makes the shortlist.
Thanks to Random House and Netgalley for sharing a free ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
US publication date: September 8, 2026
Read
July 28, 2026Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
Thank you to Random House for the early review copy. All thoughts & opinions are my own.
When you are young, everyone encourages you to think about and plan for your future. But once you've reached the end of your life, all you can help but think about is the past. What if, while nearing the end, you were unable to keep a firm grip on reality? That is the struggle the protagonist, David Hastings, has while on the final leg of his earthly journey.
His mind is fracturing, the past and present intermingling in confusing ways that dredge up old memories and infuse with his present struggles.
Regrets of working too much--and all for what?--combine with the guilt of past wrongs, his disconnect from his own daughter morphs with the only close connection he has, his assistant, Cody.
Emma Cline does such an excellent job putting the reader directly in the mind of David. The prose reflects these dissonant thoughts and moments, as he jumps from scene to scene and location to location, sometimes losing the connective tissue that makes a life feel linear, instead of a messy map of days with no bearing on one another.
Simultaneously, there's this subtle commentary about David, in his mid-70s, and his generation feeling extremely disoriented and disconnected from what the world has become. He seems to wonder and starts to believe, would it just be better for him to be gone from something he no longer recognizes? How do we reconcile our past experiences with the present circumstances, and is there any hope for a future we can barely begin to imagine?
It's a heartbreaking, but complex look at aging, life choices, and relationships that I think marks a distinct shift in Emma Cline's career, one that makes me eager to see where she goes from here.
Thank you to Random House for the early review copy. All thoughts & opinions are my own.
When you are young, everyone encourages you to think about and plan for your future. But once you've reached the end of your life, all you can help but think about is the past. What if, while nearing the end, you were unable to keep a firm grip on reality? That is the struggle the protagonist, David Hastings, has while on the final leg of his earthly journey.
His mind is fracturing, the past and present intermingling in confusing ways that dredge up old memories and infuse with his present struggles.
Regrets of working too much--and all for what?--combine with the guilt of past wrongs, his disconnect from his own daughter morphs with the only close connection he has, his assistant, Cody.
Emma Cline does such an excellent job putting the reader directly in the mind of David. The prose reflects these dissonant thoughts and moments, as he jumps from scene to scene and location to location, sometimes losing the connective tissue that makes a life feel linear, instead of a messy map of days with no bearing on one another.
Simultaneously, there's this subtle commentary about David, in his mid-70s, and his generation feeling extremely disoriented and disconnected from what the world has become. He seems to wonder and starts to believe, would it just be better for him to be gone from something he no longer recognizes? How do we reconcile our past experiences with the present circumstances, and is there any hope for a future we can barely begin to imagine?
It's a heartbreaking, but complex look at aging, life choices, and relationships that I think marks a distinct shift in Emma Cline's career, one that makes me eager to see where she goes from here.
Read
September 25, 2026Oh wow. Got a lot of feels from this one
September 15, 2026
I think it says in my GR Profile that my criteria for a 5 star book is that it makes me glad I learned to read. I don’t always adhere to this standard; all too often I give a book 5 stars because, for example, it’s far better than normal for the genre, even if it’s not “great literature”.
Switzy fully earns those 5 stars, without any asterisks. It’s fair to say that it’s sui generis without risking accusations of pretension. Emma Cline explores the experience of progressive Alzheimer’s from the perspective of someone going through the experience. Looking at it from the inside out.
Who’s to say she’s got it right? Not me, although it certainly comes across as authentic. Apparently she did a tremendous amount of research on the subject, and I think that shows.
Another Latin phrase that can be trotted out with regard to this book is memento mori. As David Hastings, a 70-something retired business executive struggling with dementia heads toward an appointment with assisted suicide, he reflects on the quality of his life.
Well, he does that when he can focus on the concept for more than a few seconds. His mind frequently drifts off, like an ice floe, as he thinks of it. Where am I? Who am I? Who are these other people?
His self-selected euthanasia will take place in Switzerland, a location where the event is not up for political grabs. You pay your money, you pass the tests to indicate that although you are well into dementia, you’re still with it enough to make a “sane” decision on the issue, and you show up on the appointed date.
David is attended to by his assistant/companion Cody, who handles everything requiring more than minimal concentration. Pays the bills, assuages David’s spontaneous fears, intervenes with his family, friends and service providers. He is, to say the least, long-suffering.
As I read, I couldn’t help wondering whether the book would land differently on seniors (my preferred term) than on younger people. I’m at the age where, on occasion, I cannot come up with a word or a name that should be right there for me - and yet other, far more arcane terms come readily to hand. Thankfully I don’t yet need a notebook with my name and address and the names of family members or destinations. :-). But who knows, down the road? And that road is a lot shorter than when I was 30.
One of the more amusing elements of the book is when David reflects on societal changes that befuddle him. In his world, no one wears a watch (unless it’s a Phillipe Patek). They use their phones for information like the time. (For his own safety, David’s own phone is pretty much useless except for playing solitaire. And telling time.). In my world, people still use watches, but they are almost always Apple Watches. Because there is never too much information that needs to be available at your fingertips. Or your wrist.
Here’s a more poignant version of a related concept:
“Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant state of fracture.”. And who should know better than David, given his circumstances?
In a book that is decidedly remote, making no effort to grab our emotions, the image of David’s awareness of his lack of true connection with others over the course of his life is perhaps the most touching. The need to connect with others physically has become important to him, and at the end he has this to offer: ”I am holding out my hand.”
The Booker shortlist will be announced tomorrow, September 22, and I will be very surprised if Switzy doesn’t make the cut.
Switzy fully earns those 5 stars, without any asterisks. It’s fair to say that it’s sui generis without risking accusations of pretension. Emma Cline explores the experience of progressive Alzheimer’s from the perspective of someone going through the experience. Looking at it from the inside out.
Who’s to say she’s got it right? Not me, although it certainly comes across as authentic. Apparently she did a tremendous amount of research on the subject, and I think that shows.
Another Latin phrase that can be trotted out with regard to this book is memento mori. As David Hastings, a 70-something retired business executive struggling with dementia heads toward an appointment with assisted suicide, he reflects on the quality of his life.
Well, he does that when he can focus on the concept for more than a few seconds. His mind frequently drifts off, like an ice floe, as he thinks of it. Where am I? Who am I? Who are these other people?
His self-selected euthanasia will take place in Switzerland, a location where the event is not up for political grabs. You pay your money, you pass the tests to indicate that although you are well into dementia, you’re still with it enough to make a “sane” decision on the issue, and you show up on the appointed date.
David is attended to by his assistant/companion Cody, who handles everything requiring more than minimal concentration. Pays the bills, assuages David’s spontaneous fears, intervenes with his family, friends and service providers. He is, to say the least, long-suffering.
As I read, I couldn’t help wondering whether the book would land differently on seniors (my preferred term) than on younger people. I’m at the age where, on occasion, I cannot come up with a word or a name that should be right there for me - and yet other, far more arcane terms come readily to hand. Thankfully I don’t yet need a notebook with my name and address and the names of family members or destinations. :-). But who knows, down the road? And that road is a lot shorter than when I was 30.
One of the more amusing elements of the book is when David reflects on societal changes that befuddle him. In his world, no one wears a watch (unless it’s a Phillipe Patek). They use their phones for information like the time. (For his own safety, David’s own phone is pretty much useless except for playing solitaire. And telling time.). In my world, people still use watches, but they are almost always Apple Watches. Because there is never too much information that needs to be available at your fingertips. Or your wrist.
Here’s a more poignant version of a related concept:
“Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant state of fracture.”. And who should know better than David, given his circumstances?
In a book that is decidedly remote, making no effort to grab our emotions, the image of David’s awareness of his lack of true connection with others over the course of his life is perhaps the most touching. The need to connect with others physically has become important to him, and at the end he has this to offer: ”I am holding out my hand.”
The Booker shortlist will be announced tomorrow, September 22, and I will be very surprised if Switzy doesn’t make the cut.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Booker Longlisted 2026!
'Someone had told him once: You should always leave a party right when you think to yourself, I'm having such a good time at this party. Because after that they had said the night could only go downhill.'
David Hastings has dementia and he's made a decision to travel to an assisted dying clinic in Switzerland before his condition means a life of care and no awareness . Emma Cline's latest novel couldn't have been written at a more apt as around the world the right to euthanasia is being debated and in many countries now being fully recognised as an important path to providing dignity.
Switzy follows the final few days of David's life as he leaves home in the USA- ably supported by his assistant Cody -and travels to Europe; first to London to see his daughter and grandson and then onto Switzerland where he hopes to find peace with an old school friend in France as well as commit his inal act.
David has lived in the world of big business and has experienced what luxury and opulence is but as he journeys to Zurich, he reflects on the meaning ( or meaningless) of the life of the rich and "successful" as well as digging deeper into his school days where he betrayed a true friendship.
Thoughts also explore the world of today and how it is not easy for anyone to be at peace and feel fractured within themselves- especially in relation to their brains and minds and the continual bombardment of imagery on screens. "Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant sate of fracture, and even before he'd actually lost his mind, he'd lost his mind; everyone."
As David travels from private jet to London to luxury hotels and onwards, he begins to lose grip of what is happening around him. Emma Cline's incredible prose takes on this journey of fragmentation as David loses thought and understanding of his surroundings but is fully composed mentis about the key reason for his travels. The staccato like sentences through the novel add to a sense of splintering from living to confusion to death.
This is not an easy read but I was gripped from the start and devoured the book in a couple of days. The only thing that kept coming to mind was that the choices that David made were mainly from within the realms of wealth and for many this choice of a dignified choice may not be so possible.
This is a superb novel, unforgettable and deeply moving and one I will recommend - with a sense of awareness for individual circumstances. If this novel opens up discussions and makes us all confront our immortality and what is of true value then that is no bad thing.
Thank you to Chatto and Windus and NetGalley for the advance copy and an honest and unbiased review.
'Someone had told him once: You should always leave a party right when you think to yourself, I'm having such a good time at this party. Because after that they had said the night could only go downhill.'
David Hastings has dementia and he's made a decision to travel to an assisted dying clinic in Switzerland before his condition means a life of care and no awareness . Emma Cline's latest novel couldn't have been written at a more apt as around the world the right to euthanasia is being debated and in many countries now being fully recognised as an important path to providing dignity.
Switzy follows the final few days of David's life as he leaves home in the USA- ably supported by his assistant Cody -and travels to Europe; first to London to see his daughter and grandson and then onto Switzerland where he hopes to find peace with an old school friend in France as well as commit his inal act.
David has lived in the world of big business and has experienced what luxury and opulence is but as he journeys to Zurich, he reflects on the meaning ( or meaningless) of the life of the rich and "successful" as well as digging deeper into his school days where he betrayed a true friendship.
Thoughts also explore the world of today and how it is not easy for anyone to be at peace and feel fractured within themselves- especially in relation to their brains and minds and the continual bombardment of imagery on screens. "Now there were a million mental jaunts available to you in every moment, consciousness in a constant sate of fracture, and even before he'd actually lost his mind, he'd lost his mind; everyone."
As David travels from private jet to London to luxury hotels and onwards, he begins to lose grip of what is happening around him. Emma Cline's incredible prose takes on this journey of fragmentation as David loses thought and understanding of his surroundings but is fully composed mentis about the key reason for his travels. The staccato like sentences through the novel add to a sense of splintering from living to confusion to death.
This is not an easy read but I was gripped from the start and devoured the book in a couple of days. The only thing that kept coming to mind was that the choices that David made were mainly from within the realms of wealth and for many this choice of a dignified choice may not be so possible.
This is a superb novel, unforgettable and deeply moving and one I will recommend - with a sense of awareness for individual circumstances. If this novel opens up discussions and makes us all confront our immortality and what is of true value then that is no bad thing.
Thank you to Chatto and Windus and NetGalley for the advance copy and an honest and unbiased review.
June 17, 2026
I wish I could post a review that is just a video of my face and the gamut of expressions it made while reading this.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Atmospheric, foggy, grey, even kind of… damp. Everything here happens quietly, beneath the surface. I've read a lot of plot-heavy books recently; this chronicle of detachment and alienation is totally different.
By coincidence, I read it straight after Lisa Genova’s Still Alice. Both novels confront dementia and cognitive decline, but they couldn’t be more different. Because I personally lean toward Genova's warmer, more emotional approach, the contrast between those books made reading Switzy especially interesting. Unlike Alice, David isn't designed to elicit easy sympathy. At times, I even felt like I was observing behaviour like some laboratory exhibit, not a person.
Switzy is heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time. Lost in his own mental fog, with only games of solitaire to pass the time, David doesn’t have anyone he can 100% trust. His existence feels increasingly stripped of purpose. To the people around him (maybe even to himself), he has stopped being a full person, but rather just a stereotypical “old man”.
Bleak, unsettling, clinical - it is easily the darkest book I have read recently.
I highly recommend this novel, but it is not a perfect read if you are looking for purpose in life or need a “pick me up” book.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
By coincidence, I read it straight after Lisa Genova’s Still Alice. Both novels confront dementia and cognitive decline, but they couldn’t be more different. Because I personally lean toward Genova's warmer, more emotional approach, the contrast between those books made reading Switzy especially interesting. Unlike Alice, David isn't designed to elicit easy sympathy. At times, I even felt like I was observing behaviour like some laboratory exhibit, not a person.
Switzy is heartbreaking and terrifying at the same time. Lost in his own mental fog, with only games of solitaire to pass the time, David doesn’t have anyone he can 100% trust. His existence feels increasingly stripped of purpose. To the people around him (maybe even to himself), he has stopped being a full person, but rather just a stereotypical “old man”.
Bleak, unsettling, clinical - it is easily the darkest book I have read recently.
I highly recommend this novel, but it is not a perfect read if you are looking for purpose in life or need a “pick me up” book.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
May 4, 2026
literally scarier than most horror novels!!!!
everyone dreads getting old and the deterioration of our bodies and minds; here, Cline puts us into the mind of someone experiencing this in real time. the writing is chilling and really difficult to read at times because of how visceral it is - we as the reader follow along in David’s mind as he starts forgetting words, numbers, and the shame of needing assistance in everyday tasks. it’s a real gut punch of a book that puts a lot of things into perspective, and it’s not meant to be a very ‘enjoyable’ read, so make sure you’re in the mood for this type of story, but the writing is so impressively immersive that made me full of dread while reading. Yay!
everyone dreads getting old and the deterioration of our bodies and minds; here, Cline puts us into the mind of someone experiencing this in real time. the writing is chilling and really difficult to read at times because of how visceral it is - we as the reader follow along in David’s mind as he starts forgetting words, numbers, and the shame of needing assistance in everyday tasks. it’s a real gut punch of a book that puts a lot of things into perspective, and it’s not meant to be a very ‘enjoyable’ read, so make sure you’re in the mood for this type of story, but the writing is so impressively immersive that made me full of dread while reading. Yay!
September 27, 2026
A person who reaches the point of suicide may be so consumed by their own pain and fear that there’s very little room left for anything else. By then, worrying about other people, caring about their needs or even fully imagining what comes afterwards may simply have become impossible.
But whatever is happening inside that person, the decision to end their life doesn’t end with them. For those left behind, it can become a kind of curse.
From that moment on, everything becomes about revisiting the days — sometimes even the years — that led to “the blackest day”.
Were there any signs?
Should we have paid more attention?
What did we miss?
Could we have done more?
Were we not understanding?
And so on and so forth, perhaps for the rest of their lives.
Another thing that can happen, especially when it’s a family member, is that a little seed of fear gets planted inside those left behind. After all, if it happened to them, could it happen to anyone? And who’s to say there isn’t some combination of genetics, circumstances and everything else we still don’t fully understand behind it? No one is really that special, right?
Right.
Now, let’s finally get to David Hastings, the main character in Switzy, shall we?
David is terrified. He’s becoming forgetful, and he already has a diagnosis that tells him exactly where this may be heading. He doesn’t want to wait until his mind, his independence and everything he recognises as himself are gone. So he makes a decision: he’s going to Switzerland to end his life before he believes it’s too late.
The novel opens with David already on that journey, on a plane heading towards Europe. From there, as he travels, he looks back over his life, his relationships, his mistakes, his losses and all the things that made him who he is. There’s wit here, and warmth, and humanity, but there’s also the constant knowledge of where he’s going and why.
Nothing can change his mind. It’s all about goodbyes now.
The future no longer exists.
And even the title of this masterful novel begins to sound like something being repeated in the distance:
Switzy, Switzy, Switzy…
Then closer.
Then louder.
Until there’s nowhere left to go.
Zap, zap, zap…
But whatever is happening inside that person, the decision to end their life doesn’t end with them. For those left behind, it can become a kind of curse.
From that moment on, everything becomes about revisiting the days — sometimes even the years — that led to “the blackest day”.
Were there any signs?
Should we have paid more attention?
What did we miss?
Could we have done more?
Were we not understanding?
And so on and so forth, perhaps for the rest of their lives.
Another thing that can happen, especially when it’s a family member, is that a little seed of fear gets planted inside those left behind. After all, if it happened to them, could it happen to anyone? And who’s to say there isn’t some combination of genetics, circumstances and everything else we still don’t fully understand behind it? No one is really that special, right?
Right.
Now, let’s finally get to David Hastings, the main character in Switzy, shall we?
David is terrified. He’s becoming forgetful, and he already has a diagnosis that tells him exactly where this may be heading. He doesn’t want to wait until his mind, his independence and everything he recognises as himself are gone. So he makes a decision: he’s going to Switzerland to end his life before he believes it’s too late.
The novel opens with David already on that journey, on a plane heading towards Europe. From there, as he travels, he looks back over his life, his relationships, his mistakes, his losses and all the things that made him who he is. There’s wit here, and warmth, and humanity, but there’s also the constant knowledge of where he’s going and why.
Nothing can change his mind. It’s all about goodbyes now.
The future no longer exists.
And even the title of this masterful novel begins to sound like something being repeated in the distance:
Switzy, Switzy, Switzy…
Then closer.
Then louder.
Until there’s nowhere left to go.
Zap, zap, zap…
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
[4.5] Inhabiting the porous mind of septuagenarian David Hastings as he prepares to die was scary and intense. Alzheimer's disease is at the top of my list of fears, and I needed to take frequent breaks from this book. Because Hastings, once a successful businessman, was not self-aware, his musings and thoughts about his personal life were both mesmerizing and obtuse. This is a gripping and thoughtful book that is brilliantly imagined by Cline.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the early galley.
Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the early galley.
July 31, 2026
You’ll be hearing from my therapist, Emma Cline.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Rating: 5* of five
LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE Shortlist will be announced on September 22.
The Publisher Says: A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: First, read this:
It's not the creeping horror of the smartphone-reading generation's inability to see the meaning-carrying blocks of text I still call paragraphs this time, it's the unmooring, the complexification of a dementia-raddled mind that has these single-line statements progressing down the page exactly as David's mind progresses down the legibility scale. He can parse less and less information, understand fewer and fewer ideas and concepts as his mind decouples meaning and experience.
A life lived amid the intense and complicated whirl of global finance. A life lived without awareness of what he was undervaluing, like most of us lead. A life that, now that he's losing his Self to the unraveling of dementia, he's decided to end...seemingly without reference to anyone else, a final act of solipsistic capitalism as there are no other stakeholders left in his world.
An uncomfortable indictment of the entirety of the life he's choosing to end.
It's a story I read in fits and starts because I kept feeling the need to step away from David so I could (re)gain perspective on him; is he, was he, only ever a monster or has he lost the parts of his self-constructed identity that were warm and inviting and needing and needed to the ravages now making him feel the need to leave his world?
I never found an answer. I wonder if he did, and so disliked what he found that assisted dying sounded like a way out of the emotional reckoning that is the end of life.
It felt to me that it would be well within his character to choose that last for those selfish reasons. I support his decision, no matter how he arrived at it, because he like all of us deserves to choose what kind of ending he gets. But wow...to leave it until you've decided you're going to die to make the amends you should have made long ago?
So very solipsistic, fearful, cowardly, and typical.
A fascinating story richly deserving a place in the Booker Prize conversation for this year. Also deserving of praise for contributing to multiple societal conversations we very, very badly need to have.
LONGLISTED FOR THE 2026 BOOKER PRIZE Shortlist will be announced on September 22.
The Publisher Says: A mesmerizing portrait of an aging man’s last pilgrimage, from the New York Times best selling author of The Girls and The Guest.
A private plane cuts through the winter night, somewhere over Greenland. David, a retired executive, sits back in his leather seat, playing solitaire on his phone. Click. Click. Drag. Click. The notebook in his jacket pocket is filled with familiar phrases, urgent reminders to himself, but he struggles to recognize his own handwriting.
A mystery, among many mysteries. The world, once so knowable, has been rendered inscrutable.
This is what David Cody, his assistant, asleep in the seat next to him, will shepherd him along the voyage. A stopover in London. Dinner with his adult daughter. A meeting in France with an old friend, estranged for decades.
His final destination is Zurich.
David glides through hotel rooms and airports and foreign cities, running out the clock on his mortal life. His grasp on the present slips away, and the past rushes the Sunday roasts of childhood. The stiff clothes meant only for church. A summer at a school friend’s house. The losses and missteps that punctuate a life.
As David’s arrival in Zurich looms, an exquisitely rendered portrait of an unraveling mind emerges, both darkly humorous and profoundly moving. Hypnotic and startlingly original, Switzy probes the depths of human consciousness, revealing what a man is left with when the accomplishments and compromises that have defined him, and the illusions he's relied on, vanish.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: First, read this:
And maybe it made sense that this task proved so difficult, that the attempt to write the letter only underscored the necessity of the letter: things really had become unmanage-able. Other words for it: unbearable; meaning-less.
Disconcerting, this mental ice floe, populated only by David, floating off into the polar darkness. He was some-times a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.
The ice floe-he had tried to write about that. In the letter.
In his strange new child's handwriting, these fat, scratched-out blocks.
The ice floe. The white room in the brain. How he knew when he was smiling and it was an error.
This dark hour, this loneliness.
Fear which lacked a shape. A dark, crumpled coat thrown carelessly into the corner of an unfamiliar room.
It's not the creeping horror of the smartphone-reading generation's inability to see the meaning-carrying blocks of text I still call paragraphs this time, it's the unmooring, the complexification of a dementia-raddled mind that has these single-line statements progressing down the page exactly as David's mind progresses down the legibility scale. He can parse less and less information, understand fewer and fewer ideas and concepts as his mind decouples meaning and experience.
A life lived amid the intense and complicated whirl of global finance. A life lived without awareness of what he was undervaluing, like most of us lead. A life that, now that he's losing his Self to the unraveling of dementia, he's decided to end...seemingly without reference to anyone else, a final act of solipsistic capitalism as there are no other stakeholders left in his world.
An uncomfortable indictment of the entirety of the life he's choosing to end.
It's a story I read in fits and starts because I kept feeling the need to step away from David so I could (re)gain perspective on him; is he, was he, only ever a monster or has he lost the parts of his self-constructed identity that were warm and inviting and needing and needed to the ravages now making him feel the need to leave his world?
I never found an answer. I wonder if he did, and so disliked what he found that assisted dying sounded like a way out of the emotional reckoning that is the end of life.
It felt to me that it would be well within his character to choose that last for those selfish reasons. I support his decision, no matter how he arrived at it, because he like all of us deserves to choose what kind of ending he gets. But wow...to leave it until you've decided you're going to die to make the amends you should have made long ago?
So very solipsistic, fearful, cowardly, and typical.
A fascinating story richly deserving a place in the Booker Prize conversation for this year. Also deserving of praise for contributing to multiple societal conversations we very, very badly need to have.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
When I shared with a friend that I was reading Emma Cline’s hypnotic new book, an exploration of an aging man’s last pilgrimage to an assisted suicide clinic in Switzerland, her cheeky comment was, “Let me know how it goes. For some reason, it’s a hot topic among us Boomers.”
And so it is. None of us know what we would do if we found ourselves in the throes of dementia, when our choice is between a forced brutal march toward mental and physical oblivion or the ability to exit on our own terms with some semblance of grace at the proverbial five minutes to midnight.
David Hastings, a retired executive in his 70s, chooses the latter option. I have read this author’s earlier three novels, and this book is a courageous step forward – psychologically astute, quietly tense, and powerful in its depiction of a man experiencing the terrifying slippage of identity. She succeeds in getting inside the head of someone with this diabolical disease.
With just enough acuity to manage one final visit with his daughter and grandson – with whom he has always had a reserved relationship – and an old classmate whom he has wronged – David has wrapped up his life. Together with his much-younger paid assistant, Cody, he lands in Zurich, and we travel with him as he willingly heads to the inevitable moment of his death. David is far from perfect – he has regrets, he has been selfish – but he is also convincingly real. Those who wonder what it must be like to decide to end one’s life with dignity in this manner will be astonished at the research done by the author.
There are bound to be distractors who will call this novel “too bleak”. Unfortunately, aging and death are topics that we often try to sweep under the rug. Hopefully, though, Switzy will find the wide readership it should – readers who look for novels that display thematic depth and complex themes and who understand that eventually, each of us will face the unsettling reality of fractured bodies and minds. The fact that Emma Cline could capture this reality so early in her life is amazing. I am thrilled to be an early reader and am grateful to Random House and Netgally for the access in exchange for an honest review.
And so it is. None of us know what we would do if we found ourselves in the throes of dementia, when our choice is between a forced brutal march toward mental and physical oblivion or the ability to exit on our own terms with some semblance of grace at the proverbial five minutes to midnight.
David Hastings, a retired executive in his 70s, chooses the latter option. I have read this author’s earlier three novels, and this book is a courageous step forward – psychologically astute, quietly tense, and powerful in its depiction of a man experiencing the terrifying slippage of identity. She succeeds in getting inside the head of someone with this diabolical disease.
With just enough acuity to manage one final visit with his daughter and grandson – with whom he has always had a reserved relationship – and an old classmate whom he has wronged – David has wrapped up his life. Together with his much-younger paid assistant, Cody, he lands in Zurich, and we travel with him as he willingly heads to the inevitable moment of his death. David is far from perfect – he has regrets, he has been selfish – but he is also convincingly real. Those who wonder what it must be like to decide to end one’s life with dignity in this manner will be astonished at the research done by the author.
There are bound to be distractors who will call this novel “too bleak”. Unfortunately, aging and death are topics that we often try to sweep under the rug. Hopefully, though, Switzy will find the wide readership it should – readers who look for novels that display thematic depth and complex themes and who understand that eventually, each of us will face the unsettling reality of fractured bodies and minds. The fact that Emma Cline could capture this reality so early in her life is amazing. I am thrilled to be an early reader and am grateful to Random House and Netgally for the access in exchange for an honest review.
August 17, 2026
I haven’t read a book by Emma Cline since I was unable to finish The Girls, but with it being longlisted for the Booker this year, I figured I’d give it a try.
Tonally, this is so different from her previous stuff and it seems she has found her stride. Taking a perspective of someone deep into Alzheimer’s, our main character is looking to end the party while it’s still fun (euthanasia). But having to travel outside of the United States and jump through many hoops while losing time, space, context, situations is incredibly taxing.
This book is a ride to be sure. It feels strangely eye opening to the anger, outbursts and other emotions that pop out with people suffering from this disease. It’s clear there was a lot of research and most likely some personal experience. We are never quite sure who is on your characters side or where he is at certain times. It’s disorienting while also being weirdly calming at times. It feels like looking through the eyes of a newborn while retaining adulthood in other facets.
There is one scene that will stay forever with me in a hotel room with a woman who may or may not be a sex worker, or perhaps just a person who is wanting to enjoy another’s company. I can see why this is long listed for the Booker and it’s incredibly deserved. It’s unique, haunting, and fulfilling all at the same time.
Tonally, this is so different from her previous stuff and it seems she has found her stride. Taking a perspective of someone deep into Alzheimer’s, our main character is looking to end the party while it’s still fun (euthanasia). But having to travel outside of the United States and jump through many hoops while losing time, space, context, situations is incredibly taxing.
This book is a ride to be sure. It feels strangely eye opening to the anger, outbursts and other emotions that pop out with people suffering from this disease. It’s clear there was a lot of research and most likely some personal experience. We are never quite sure who is on your characters side or where he is at certain times. It’s disorienting while also being weirdly calming at times. It feels like looking through the eyes of a newborn while retaining adulthood in other facets.
There is one scene that will stay forever with me in a hotel room with a woman who may or may not be a sex worker, or perhaps just a person who is wanting to enjoy another’s company. I can see why this is long listed for the Booker and it’s incredibly deserved. It’s unique, haunting, and fulfilling all at the same time.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Booker Longlist #11
4.5, rounded ip.
Had never read Cline before, but from what I hear this is vastly different from her first three offerings anyway. Although the subject matter is sad and somewhat depressing (assisted suicide in lieu of worsening dementia), the book is not as bleak as that would portend, and there is actually a lot of 'life' and wry humor here also.
Cline is firmly in control of her subject, and I liked how little nuggets of information or nods to things in the past keep recurring throughout the book. I found the reasons for David and Tom's estrangement to be both believable and heartbreaking. I raced through the final 60% in only a few hours, so that right there is a hearty recommendation. It's second only to John of John in my rankings, so far, with only two more nominees to go. Should easily make the shortlist.
My thanks to Netgalley, the publisher and the author for the ARC.
4.5, rounded ip.
Had never read Cline before, but from what I hear this is vastly different from her first three offerings anyway. Although the subject matter is sad and somewhat depressing (assisted suicide in lieu of worsening dementia), the book is not as bleak as that would portend, and there is actually a lot of 'life' and wry humor here also.
Cline is firmly in control of her subject, and I liked how little nuggets of information or nods to things in the past keep recurring throughout the book. I found the reasons for David and Tom's estrangement to be both believable and heartbreaking. I raced through the final 60% in only a few hours, so that right there is a hearty recommendation. It's second only to John of John in my rankings, so far, with only two more nominees to go. Should easily make the shortlist.
My thanks to Netgalley, the publisher and the author for the ARC.
September 6, 2026
I had a hard time connecting to the story due to the way it was written. There were points in the story where I just wanted to book to get to the point it was going to without all the sidetracked that were happening. The way the story has no quotation had thrown me off at the start but as I kept reading the book I learned to ignore it.
The story being in David pov was done nicely, especially where we get to learn about his last journey and thoughts before he kills himself. We get to read how he starts to lose his memory more and more as the books goes on and seemly how it affects him. There were times where I felt a profound sense of sorrow for him but then the storyline was overly drawn out and I lost that feeling. I admit the ending did have me in tears but did I sob my eyes out? No I haven’t mainly due to the reason that I didn’t feel overly connected to him.
I do feel like this book was unnecessarily long. Personally I feel like it should’ve been 250 pages max instead of 343. Especially when David was supposed to meet up with his daughter which took only 2 chapters to do so and meeting his friend took 1 chapter. The other part of the story was just his thoughts on everything that was happening.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review.
——————————————————————
𐙚⋆°. preread
I have requested this book based on the synopsis because it has gotten me intrigued so I’m curious to see what I’ll think of it.
The story being in David pov was done nicely, especially where we get to learn about his last journey and thoughts before he kills himself. We get to read how he starts to lose his memory more and more as the books goes on and seemly how it affects him. There were times where I felt a profound sense of sorrow for him but then the storyline was overly drawn out and I lost that feeling. I admit the ending did have me in tears but did I sob my eyes out? No I haven’t mainly due to the reason that I didn’t feel overly connected to him.
I do feel like this book was unnecessarily long. Personally I feel like it should’ve been 250 pages max instead of 343. Especially when David was supposed to meet up with his daughter which took only 2 chapters to do so and meeting his friend took 1 chapter. The other part of the story was just his thoughts on everything that was happening.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this arc in exchange for an honest review.
——————————————————————
𐙚⋆°. preread
I have requested this book based on the synopsis because it has gotten me intrigued so I’m curious to see what I’ll think of it.
Read
September 15, 2026 Long listed for the Booker 2026
David Hastings wants to die. In his seventies and retired, he is struggling with advanced dementia, losing track of memories, words, people, and what he ate for lunch. However, the distant past comes tumbling in in waves, in chunks, and we learn that David lived a dismal personal life. His job as a CFO was to identify and root out fraud, and yet he essentially lived a fraudulent life by not allowing his authenic self to come out of the shadows. That is what adds a heavy layer of melancholy on what is already a cheerless story. Living life to its emptiest.
For the entire novel, we live in David’s head, it’s from his POV. The sentences are halting and occasionally repetitive. There’s humor, too. David can’t remember the words “barbitol” so he says “Barbie doll.” The Sound of Music is a comical refrain, which of course I appreciated (I know every song, most of the dialogue).
We know from the start that he’s on his way to Zurich for a final goobye; he has a date with a high end euthanasia clinic before his mind turns to total Swiss cheese. A few stops to visit his daughter and grandson in London, and to hopefully connect with his boarding school friend, Tom, who he betrayed and hasn't seen in over fifty years. Despite that, Tom has lived rent-free in his head for most of that time, and occupies a dense space in these final days.
It’s a very Bookerish book, with stream of consciousness prose structured to mirror his confusion and memory loss. I can’t say I “loved” reading it—it is grim, heavy in context but done with a surface lightness, so it moves apace. If you are familiar with the comics of Nemo from Slumberland (I was not), you may recognize the cover art. Nemo is one of the prominet motifs, especially in the latter half of the story.
My dear and loving mother-in-law now suffers from dementia. She’s a different person than she was five years ago. When my reading life and real life reflect each other, it can be suffocating to keep those pages turning. I had to put it down for a few days, but I soldiered on through. The last chapter is sublime.
I can't seem to land on a rating for this book, but I do recommend that you read it.
David Hastings wants to die. In his seventies and retired, he is struggling with advanced dementia, losing track of memories, words, people, and what he ate for lunch. However, the distant past comes tumbling in in waves, in chunks, and we learn that David lived a dismal personal life. His job as a CFO was to identify and root out fraud, and yet he essentially lived a fraudulent life by not allowing his authenic self to come out of the shadows. That is what adds a heavy layer of melancholy on what is already a cheerless story. Living life to its emptiest.
For the entire novel, we live in David’s head, it’s from his POV. The sentences are halting and occasionally repetitive. There’s humor, too. David can’t remember the words “barbitol” so he says “Barbie doll.” The Sound of Music is a comical refrain, which of course I appreciated (I know every song, most of the dialogue).
We know from the start that he’s on his way to Zurich for a final goobye; he has a date with a high end euthanasia clinic before his mind turns to total Swiss cheese. A few stops to visit his daughter and grandson in London, and to hopefully connect with his boarding school friend, Tom, who he betrayed and hasn't seen in over fifty years. Despite that, Tom has lived rent-free in his head for most of that time, and occupies a dense space in these final days.
It’s a very Bookerish book, with stream of consciousness prose structured to mirror his confusion and memory loss. I can’t say I “loved” reading it—it is grim, heavy in context but done with a surface lightness, so it moves apace. If you are familiar with the comics of Nemo from Slumberland (I was not), you may recognize the cover art. Nemo is one of the prominet motifs, especially in the latter half of the story.
My dear and loving mother-in-law now suffers from dementia. She’s a different person than she was five years ago. When my reading life and real life reflect each other, it can be suffocating to keep those pages turning. I had to put it down for a few days, but I soldiered on through. The last chapter is sublime.
I can't seem to land on a rating for this book, but I do recommend that you read it.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
Switzy by Emma Cline is a great choice by the Booker judges, a sympathetic and literary portrayal of Alzheimer’s and of assisted dying.
It would appear premature, if done correctly. He returned to this in moments of hesitation. That this was the only way to sidestep the body's authority - exit while the good things were still in reach. A fair number of good things.
And exit while his body was still mostly onboard. When the issue was mostly that his brain shook information like dice in a little leather cup and then let the dice loose in a jumble on the green felt and it was sometimes not a very fun game!
Leave the party right when you think, I'm having such a nice time at this party.
Business advice: a successful negotiation meant both parties should come away unsatisfied, both parties should feel a little bit cheated, should feel that they had given up something important.
The novel is told from the close third-person perspective of David Hastings, a recently retired Executive, ex-CFO of an American firm, forced to step back from his duties as the symptoms which were to be the first sign of his condition (it wasn’t technically early-onset) started to impair his previously forensic financial skills and his ability to perform his role.
As the novel opens he is on a (I’m told by those who know, accurately described) private plane, courtesy of his former boss, flying to Switzerland where he plans to end his life in a physician-assisted dying clinic, an action he is keen to take (as per the quote above) before he deteriorates further.
The novel’s title incidentally comes from a nickname he and his former boss use for Switzerland - one I can’t say I’ve heard before (Swissy is a more common term, particularly in financial markets for the CHF currency).
En route to Zurich, he has a planned stop in London to visit his daughter, for what he but not she knows is a farewell, one also taking in a visit to the Wallace Collection that he and his former wife visited on their honeymoon in the city.
And in Zurich he has a planned trip over the border to France to visit a former school friend, although one who seems bemused as to why he wants to meet up - but a visit that owes its origins to what is a common theme on this longlist.
He also visits an antiquarian book shop and buys a rare US first edition of Jules Verne’s Twenty Leagues Under the Seas (or rather ‘the Sea’ as printed on that edition, one of a number of errors). He intends this as a present for his 9yo grandson in London, but forgets and attempts instead to give it to his own former school friend.
This confusion is a key feature of the novel, as much of the planned trip and what happens is clearer to the reader than to David, whose condition means he is increasingly bewildered by every day life, and he is necessarily accompanied on his journey by a younger man acting as his assistant and helper.
He now moves through a world doubly strange to him (strange, strangeness or stranger appears 62 times in the text) - both confusing due to his Alzheimer’s and more modern that the business culture he is used to.
These dress shirts that had been measured and cut to his body, neckties that had once communicated some urgent quality of self to others. How much more formal everything used to be. It was one of those things that no longer mattered.
Other things that used to matter: handshakes, business dinners, name recall, a specific flavor of obeisance to one’s superiors, follow-up phone calls, meeting someone face-to-face. A well-ironed shirt. A glass of Calvados with dessert, a small swallow of fire. A commuter train that ran along the pewter river, voices from other seats floating above you. Ordinary boredom. The Sunday roasts of childhood, the meat pinkened and wet. Stiff clothes meant only for church.
If anything the traditional comforts of Europe, old-fashioned hotels and restaurants, a London club, provide him a sense of reassurance:
Polished wood for the banister, the steps carpeted with a deep-burgundy runner. A tiered chandelier loomed two stories up the square atrium, icy with crystal. Gilt and dark colors, heavy wood, the European version of fancy. Burgundy and forest green and navy, colors that were formal and staid and spoke of the past. Europe basically looked like an upscale steak house. Or the other way around.
And he also finds anchorage in memories of the Sound of Music, Nemo the Slumberer, a line from White Christmas (although he cannot place the film) and Mahler’s 9th Farewell Symphony, inadvertently introduced to him by his grandson.
The narration, slightly offbeat, captures the sense of his own dislocation well e.g. when he is required to write a letter in his own hand, explaining his wishes, as part of the procedures and safeguards around his chosen fate:
And maybe it made sense that this task proved so difficult, that the attempt to write the letter only underscored the necessity of the letter: things really had become unmanage-able. Other words for it: unbearable; meaning-less.
Disconcerting, this mental ice floe, populated only by David, floating off into the polar darkness. He was some-times a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.
The ice floe-he had tried to write about that. In the letter.
In his strange new child's handwriting, these fat, scratched-out blocks.
The ice floe. The white room in the brain. How he knew when he was smiling and it was an error.
This dark hour, this loneliness.
Fear which lacked a shape. A dark, crumpled coat thrown carelessly into the corner of an unfamiliar room.
The invisible spheres were formed in fright.
This line remained intact. He wrote it down, to feel the certainty of each word, the correctness of the phrase. At least a few things were whole, there at hand. Like the quick brown fox. Like the lines of the paper. Invisible spheres-he had more to say, but he got stuck on this. Invisible spheres, formed in fright. Invisible, indivisible this is when he abandoned the letter altogether.
A strong shortlist contender.
The judges' commendation
‘We live in a time ruled by overpowered and undersocialised wealthy boy kings; Emma Cline’s mordant novel considers what, if anything, remains at the end of one such luxurious yet lonely life. David is a retired American business executive with dementia who decides to be euthanised in a Swiss clinic. As he voyages across Europe, fuzzy memories from his life slip in and out of his consciousness. There are final gestures towards intimacy with family and friends, and a whimsical cartoon becomes a symbol of a bygone childhood. What makes a life? Cline writes vividly about the trappings of the elite – the private jets, the heirloom watches, all that time spent in the office – as well as their sad social cost in a story that feels immersive, elegiac, and very real. As one of us put it: “I travel a lot, and know these guys.”’
Switzy by Emma Cline is a great choice by the Booker judges, a sympathetic and literary portrayal of Alzheimer’s and of assisted dying.
It would appear premature, if done correctly. He returned to this in moments of hesitation. That this was the only way to sidestep the body's authority - exit while the good things were still in reach. A fair number of good things.
And exit while his body was still mostly onboard. When the issue was mostly that his brain shook information like dice in a little leather cup and then let the dice loose in a jumble on the green felt and it was sometimes not a very fun game!
Leave the party right when you think, I'm having such a nice time at this party.
Business advice: a successful negotiation meant both parties should come away unsatisfied, both parties should feel a little bit cheated, should feel that they had given up something important.
The novel is told from the close third-person perspective of David Hastings, a recently retired Executive, ex-CFO of an American firm, forced to step back from his duties as the symptoms which were to be the first sign of his condition (it wasn’t technically early-onset) started to impair his previously forensic financial skills and his ability to perform his role.
As the novel opens he is on a (I’m told by those who know, accurately described) private plane, courtesy of his former boss, flying to Switzerland where he plans to end his life in a physician-assisted dying clinic, an action he is keen to take (as per the quote above) before he deteriorates further.
The novel’s title incidentally comes from a nickname he and his former boss use for Switzerland - one I can’t say I’ve heard before (Swissy is a more common term, particularly in financial markets for the CHF currency).
En route to Zurich, he has a planned stop in London to visit his daughter, for what he but not she knows is a farewell, one also taking in a visit to the Wallace Collection that he and his former wife visited on their honeymoon in the city.
And in Zurich he has a planned trip over the border to France to visit a former school friend, although one who seems bemused as to why he wants to meet up - but a visit that owes its origins to what is a common theme on this longlist.
He also visits an antiquarian book shop and buys a rare US first edition of Jules Verne’s Twenty Leagues Under the Seas (or rather ‘the Sea’ as printed on that edition, one of a number of errors). He intends this as a present for his 9yo grandson in London, but forgets and attempts instead to give it to his own former school friend.
This confusion is a key feature of the novel, as much of the planned trip and what happens is clearer to the reader than to David, whose condition means he is increasingly bewildered by every day life, and he is necessarily accompanied on his journey by a younger man acting as his assistant and helper.
He now moves through a world doubly strange to him (strange, strangeness or stranger appears 62 times in the text) - both confusing due to his Alzheimer’s and more modern that the business culture he is used to.
These dress shirts that had been measured and cut to his body, neckties that had once communicated some urgent quality of self to others. How much more formal everything used to be. It was one of those things that no longer mattered.
Other things that used to matter: handshakes, business dinners, name recall, a specific flavor of obeisance to one’s superiors, follow-up phone calls, meeting someone face-to-face. A well-ironed shirt. A glass of Calvados with dessert, a small swallow of fire. A commuter train that ran along the pewter river, voices from other seats floating above you. Ordinary boredom. The Sunday roasts of childhood, the meat pinkened and wet. Stiff clothes meant only for church.
If anything the traditional comforts of Europe, old-fashioned hotels and restaurants, a London club, provide him a sense of reassurance:
Polished wood for the banister, the steps carpeted with a deep-burgundy runner. A tiered chandelier loomed two stories up the square atrium, icy with crystal. Gilt and dark colors, heavy wood, the European version of fancy. Burgundy and forest green and navy, colors that were formal and staid and spoke of the past. Europe basically looked like an upscale steak house. Or the other way around.
And he also finds anchorage in memories of the Sound of Music, Nemo the Slumberer, a line from White Christmas (although he cannot place the film) and Mahler’s 9th Farewell Symphony, inadvertently introduced to him by his grandson.
The narration, slightly offbeat, captures the sense of his own dislocation well e.g. when he is required to write a letter in his own hand, explaining his wishes, as part of the procedures and safeguards around his chosen fate:
And maybe it made sense that this task proved so difficult, that the attempt to write the letter only underscored the necessity of the letter: things really had become unmanage-able. Other words for it: unbearable; meaning-less.
Disconcerting, this mental ice floe, populated only by David, floating off into the polar darkness. He was some-times a figure standing on the shore, watching himself float away, and sometimes he was on the ice floe, losing sight of land.
The ice floe-he had tried to write about that. In the letter.
In his strange new child's handwriting, these fat, scratched-out blocks.
The ice floe. The white room in the brain. How he knew when he was smiling and it was an error.
This dark hour, this loneliness.
Fear which lacked a shape. A dark, crumpled coat thrown carelessly into the corner of an unfamiliar room.
The invisible spheres were formed in fright.
This line remained intact. He wrote it down, to feel the certainty of each word, the correctness of the phrase. At least a few things were whole, there at hand. Like the quick brown fox. Like the lines of the paper. Invisible spheres-he had more to say, but he got stuck on this. Invisible spheres, formed in fright. Invisible, indivisible this is when he abandoned the letter altogether.
A strong shortlist contender.
The judges' commendation
‘We live in a time ruled by overpowered and undersocialised wealthy boy kings; Emma Cline’s mordant novel considers what, if anything, remains at the end of one such luxurious yet lonely life. David is a retired American business executive with dementia who decides to be euthanised in a Swiss clinic. As he voyages across Europe, fuzzy memories from his life slip in and out of his consciousness. There are final gestures towards intimacy with family and friends, and a whimsical cartoon becomes a symbol of a bygone childhood. What makes a life? Cline writes vividly about the trappings of the elite – the private jets, the heirloom watches, all that time spent in the office – as well as their sad social cost in a story that feels immersive, elegiac, and very real. As one of us put it: “I travel a lot, and know these guys.”’
August 16, 2026
a bleak yet simultaneously very tender novel. once again emma cline displays her talent at evoking such a specific feeling through her writing (she also did this with the girls and the guest). i read this while going through a bit of of a hard time though, which needless to say didn’t make for the best experience. maybe i will revisit it in a few months, but i do think it’s a great novel. will write a proper review once i’ve organised my reading notes better!
thank you vintage books for the advanced copy <3
thank you vintage books for the advanced copy <3
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
It would appear premature, if done correctly. He returned to this in moments of hesitation. That this was the only way to sidestep the body’s authority—exit while the good things were still in reach. A fair number of good things. And exit while his body was still mostly onboard. When the issue was mostly that his brain shook information like dice in a little leather cup and then let the dice loose in a jumble on the green felt and it was sometimes not a very fun game! Leave the party right when you think, I’m having such a nice time at this party.
Longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize
The US based author’s third novel after her debut “The Girls” (which was inspired by the Manson Cult and Sharon Tate murder) and second novel “The Guest” (about a young high-class escort). I have only read the former which I found a flawed but still impressive piece of debut writing.
This her third novel retains showcases her versatility while retaining her ability to dissect lives of the ostensibly privileged to uncover what lies beneath them – this time examining the world of assisted dying but through that lens the hollowness of a life purely largely based around elite business success.
The third parry protagonist David Hastings has very recently medically retired off from a job as CFO of a large American (industry unspecified) firm - Stearns.
A diagnosis of dementia – which for a period he was able to cover up, before its early symptoms too clearly impacted his ability to perform his role (he was previously famed for his forensic facilities with figures), and now his condition is impacting his every day actions and increasingly confused thoughts – he relying largely on an 24-7 Executive Assistant (almost at times nurse) Cody who he first encountered at a trading desk where David was a partner before being outed and taking the role art Stearns.
(As an aside of course this is one of two longlisted novels to deal with dementia – the other “The Renovation”).
Now – before his condition gets any worse and while he is still able to take the necessary decisions – he is flying to Switzerland on the Stearn Private Jet to end his life.
As an aside the destination gives the book its title – in what is perhaps one of the rare missteps (its used by Stearns himself to describe the company – an affectation in which he seems to me to be in a minority of one) in what is, from my experience, an otherwise largely accurate novel in portraying the trappings of business travel – from the higher end experience of private jets and chauffeured cars to the rather prosaic sliver dome and mustard pots of in-room hamburgers.
En route he stops at London and meets with his by now largely distanced daughter (unaware of his condition and more concerned about the risks of sudden retirement on his mental health) and his none year old grandson – also trying to retrace the steps of his then faltering (both young and inexperienced) honeymoon with his now ex-wife, including a trip to the Wallace collection.
And throughout the trip he obsesses over memories of a school friend Tom – the two close, almost having a relationship before David’s deliberate involvement in a drastic school pranking fundamentally distanced them – David now visiting Tom over the French border from Zurich, for a clumsy and unwanted/unneeded attempt at some form of no longer to the also rapidly ageing Tom relevant reconciliation/reckoning.
And as perhaps the two previous paragraphs portray this is a novel shot through with melancholia, with a look back on a life which will ostensibly successful was largely lacking in lasting meaningful communication. I have to say it was a novel in some respects that ran true for me in the obsession with many already rich businessmen with starting up new firms or staying in positions to and beyond the age at which the risk of sudden health impacts begin to grow exponentially – albeit I have to say that in many cases those individuals do have external connections and relations but seem unable to find fulfilment in them (whereas her it is as though David cannot really ever see through an intimate relationship).
What really distinguishes it as a novel though is David’s voice – at times fragmentary, rather off-kilter, with a jumbled mix of his attempts to make sense of his immediate circumstances (often aided by Cody and by hand written notes), his increasing physical and mental struggles, his main and over-riding near end of life memories of his childhood (including learning to writing cursive and the line about the quick brown dog – a line which returns to him repeatedly now as he struggles to write at all; a childhood book about Little Nemo) , school days, marriage, career and family and with a series of recurring motifs – a line from White Christmas (not that he can place the film), the Sound of Music (his previous Alpine memories of Switzerland mixed up with Austria) and so on.
And for me this works really effectively. I did wonder about the choice of a third-party perspective for such an intimate voice novel – but I think it better captures the dissociation that David increasingly has from his own body and even his own memories.
Many I think will describe this as a bleak novel – and with some reason – but its is far from either sensationalist or gratuitous, just a very open (and for an author still under 40) mature examination of a topic of increasing focus in a world which has medically dealt with preventing death while not addressing quality of end life, and of course particularly topical to the UK with the very active legislative and societal debates on assisted dying.
And wider I think it asks very pertinent question on what we do with our lives before then and how we ensure we achieve meaning and connection before the meanings and connections start to leave our minds.
In many ways this feels an outlier on a novel which otherwise has a mix of weird fiction and prize winning heavy-hitters but is very worthy of its place and would be a great shortlist choice – if only as the novel’s late publication will mean that it may get less attention ahead of the shortlist than most other novels on the list.
My thanks to Vintage Books for a (pre longlist announcement) NetGalley Arc and immediate post announcement paper ARC (allowing me to have all the physical books ahead of my August re-reads).
Would the young people believe it if you told them that one day their skin would oxidize and reek? That they would need to order flimsy bars of special soap from foreign countries?
They were brains in a jar, barely encumbered by the body.
They worked to minimize the time before people would click on an ad. Tracked the flutter of eye movements on a screen, and figured how to funnel those flutters most efficiently into profit. Map the contours of the brain and divert it along the intended course.
Unless that brain was useless, addled.
Addled. That was the sort of old-fashioned euphemism.
For the stutter in David's mind. This shuffle of other disappeared things—images, facts, names, stretches of time significant and minor.
The quick brown fox.
I grow old, Mr. Bones.
Ha-ha
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