It is no easy feat to write a review of this book without giving away some really big plot points that would be considered spoilers and possibly ruin the surprises that are in store for you when you read Sorrowland. However, I am going to try anyways. The main protagonist is a 7-months pregnant woman named Vern, who gives birth to twins shortly after escaping from a deeply religious commune. Real shades of A Handmaid's Tale going on there. After giving birth her body starts to change and she begins to become more powerful, in a supernatural sort of way. This is the part that I can't say much more about for fear of spoilers. The people from the commune are not about to let her go that easily, though, so she must use her newfound powers to fight against them and stay a step ahead of the hunters for the sake of her and her twins. Author Rivers Solomon really knows how to write a thriller, and peppers the narrative with clues as to how a commune like this could possibly come to be and how Vern ended up there. The story is very queer/LGBTQIA+ friendly, which is why it gets a heart four stars from me.

Read a NetGalley eARC
Content warning: birth, self harm, teen pregnancy, drowning, child abuse, cult, emotional abuse, blood, gaslighting, drowning, rape, gun violence, hanging, suicide, AIDS

Fifteen-year-old Vern gives birth to twins in the woods after having escaped the religious compound where things were amiss. She seeks to raise them free of that influence, but the hauntings and hunts force her to interact with the forbidden world beyond.

Feral and howling, this brilliant piece of speculative fiction is not one to miss. It is as beautiful as it is raw, and I am truly jealous that I can’t re-experience it for the first time again.

Sorrowland is by no means an easy read. It starts off with a 15-year-old giving birth in the woods while a fiend hunts her and leaves behind grisly installations that twist motherhood. Then, we’re led through flashbacks and the history of Cainland while seeing events unfold in real time. It’s a lot, but in the best way. So much happens here. It’s a little bit Annihilation, a little bit Lakewood, some parts the arc of most cults’ stories, but it never takes its focus from the central character, Vern.

Each relationship here was so polished. They are complicated. They are messy. Especially the relationship between Vern and her children. It is clear that she loves them something fierce. But toddlers will toddler. Some of my favorite moments were when the three of them learn the world beyond Cainland together. The tension of the children outpacing the parent is so palpable, and it really resonated with me.

Speaking of relationships, this book fucks. There is so much sexuality on-page and implied. It’s great to see a character who is a mother have those wants and needs, but it’s not painted with any moral judgment. It’s just a thing that exists in this experience of the world built by Solomon. The presentation is so seamless and breath-taking.

The context and history woven throughout this novel is perfect. Focusing various atrocities committed by the U.S. government and also what happens when a terrible captain helms the ship of a cult, anecdotes and entire scenes can get heavy. Solomon does not hold the reader’s hand through any of it.

Sorrowland is the story of Vern, a character who grabbed me from the start and never let me go. She is a Black pregnant teenager with albinism escaping from the cult-ish compound where she grew up, determined to live for herself and to raise her twin babies free from the shadowy powers at play in Cainland.

The beginning of the book feels suspended in time - the language feels old, the woods are ageless, and Vern is fifteen but seems ancient. Slowly, you realize this story takes place in a world very similar to our own, with all the trappings of modernity and trauma of a country deeply rooted in racism. The story grows as Vern grows. Through her transformation and self-discovery, she is unmade, just as she learns that she has the power to remake the world around her. She and her children, Howling and Feral, find family in Bridget (Lakota) and Gogo (Lakota, winkte). I loved reading all of these characters - their relationships and identities were beautifully and carefully rendered.

Vern is unyielding, cantankerous, and angry. But she is also keenly open to her own self, to who her children might be, to those that the world may cast aside for difference. Her acceptance of queerness in herself and others felt radical and true. There is pain, cyclic violence, and gruesomeness to her story, often horrifying to read. But there are also quiet moments of beauty, of subtle (and obvious) humor in the antics of her children, and the special awkwardness of new love. Overall, Vern's determination to be her full self provides a hopeful tone.

I haven't felt this strongly about a book in a long time - I HIGHLY recommend it. This is a book I will read and reread. Well-crafted fiction, beautiful prose, and haunting as hell.

I received a digital ARC from MCD via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

This book is incredible! Vern has escaped the cult she grew up in. Free from its influence and alone in the wilderness with her children, her body begins to transform into something new, and she begins to realize the cult was hiding much bigger secrets than she realized.

The craft of fiction at its finest.

SORROWLAND opens in the woods with the fifteen-year-old Vern—who is Black, albino (the term is used in text), and intersex—giving birth to twins Howling and Feral, the latter also has albinism. Vern grew up in the Blessed Acres of Cain, a religious compound that was supposed to be a Black utopia, but she had to escape because everything there seems to be a lie. Over the next several months and years, Vern’s body begins to change. She is both stronger and more vulnerable, and she starts to understand that the power of the past while struggling to raise the twins with the freedom she never had.

I used to wish for a book in contemporary settings that references history and beliefs while telling a brand new story deeply influenced by the past. And now I found it in SORROWLAND.

The main concept is the cycle of history, with great emphasis on the violence against Black and Indigenous peoples in America. It is disturbing, both in raw descriptions and the recurring horrors of history. Throughout the story, there are countless Biblical references as well as mentions of historical and modern events that pertains to racism. Despite the pain and lingering memories from the past, the theme of rebirth—which the book opens with—creates a hopeful tone.

Vern is hungry to live and to be free, like her endless hunger for food. She would do anything to keep her children safe and as innocent as possible. When she meets Bridget and Gogo (Lakota, winkte), they become her found family. All of these characters are beautiful and real and passionate, their drives raw and primal.

There were so many visceral sentences that were punches in the gut, thoughts so accurate and candid no one else dared think. A lot of the scenes were allusions to being intersex and/or trans, especially since the intersection of identities being an underlying theme of SORROWLAND. We have an intersex lead, an Indigenous transwoman, he/him twins who are really genderless. Through memories from shared history and trauma as well as the hauntings, we also get snippets of stories from other unrelated yet interconnected people from the past.

SORROWLAND is a condensation of history told through weaving fantastical elements. At first, I didn’t understand the ending, thinking it was sudden and didn’t fit the tone. But after thinking through the message of the story and the opening scenes, the ending, for me, made Vern’s and her loved ones’ lives come full circle. The final scene ended exactly where it should, still a reference to the Bible, still a reference to history. It transcends genres and is a mix of sci-fi, fantasy, horror, romance, and literary fiction. The dedication line, “To everyone I will ever be, and ever was,” might not make much sense at first glance, actually fits the central plot perfectly. This work of fiction is a must-read, beautiful and haunting.

[Content warnings: animal killings, self harm, childbirth, alcohol abuse, cult, gaslight, pedophilia, blood, death, drowning, rape, attempted forcing of medication, torture, hallucination, brainwash, non-consensual medical experiment, reclaimed d slur, suicide, cannibalism, voyeurism, drug abuse, child abuse]

This book is a mix of many genres, thus, speculative fiction, and it covers a lot of ground in its narrative. Speculative fiction is a catch-all term if a book doesn’t centralize around one specific genre, and “Sorrowland” is undoubtedly one of those. There are a lot of social commentaries considering Vern is from a cult that is for Black Americans. Throughout the novel, there are magical and fantastical elements. And there is some horror content. There’s a little bit of everything in here. And Rivers Solomon handles it with ease.

The prose is beautiful and requires your full attention. There is a lot jam-packed into this story, and it is not one that you can casually read and comprehend all of the nuances. There is a moment towards the end that completely took me out of the story and left me feeling like, “what the hell did I just read?” But other than that, the book was beautiful. I appreciated everything that Rivers Solomon was trying to say in this book, and I would love to read more of their work.

You can find a feature of "Sorrowland" on my IG on May 9 @lyatslibrary
Thank you, Rivers Solomon, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and NetGalley for this ARC

Sorrowland has elements of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror all mixed up together, while also having a writing style that is almost a throwback. I don’t know if this is Rivers Solomon’s regular writing style or is unique to this book, but it really gave it more of a genre feeling to it.

There are some plot holes in Sorrowland that made me a bit confused. Vern seems to know and understand things that she shouldn’t and we are expected to believe a few things that stretched even my own imagination. Some questions get wrapped up, but I still ended it wondering if I missed something stuff earlier in the book.

In the end, it was a shocking and haunting story. There are definitely elements of Room, and I had to keep reminding myself that Vern was supposed to be just a teenager who is still learning her mind and body. While I didn’t love Sorrowland while I was reading it, I think it’s a story that will stay with me for a long time.

You’re a strange one Sorrowland...
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I don’t even know where to begin on this review. If I get too detailed I could easily spoil so many aspects on the story. If I share little to nothing many of y’all will be blindsided if you pick up this book... The first half of the book was addictive. The characters, the plot, and the writing were all encompassing. I couldn’t read the book fast enough!
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After the half way mark - things get weird. And I mean “falling down the rabbit hole into the land of WTF” weird. The strange factor was a shock to the system, and in my opinion, came out of no where. Maybe I as a reader didn’t pick up on the strange vibes, or maybe the author wanted shock value. 🤷🏽‍♀️ Many people will enjoy this book. Most (i think) will hate the ending as well as the chapters leading up to it. As for me, I’m in the middle and still trying to wrap my head around everything! ⭐️⭐️⭐️ of five stars.
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Thank you NetGally and MCD for providing me with an arc in exchange for an honest review. Release date May 4th, 2021.

Sorrowland is intense, fierce, bizarre, and quintessential to Solomon's style of story-weaving. Following a queer, albino, African-American escaping her toxic past within a religious cult, this is a story about survival, parenthood, defining one's future, and discovering the changes within oneself.

I have to frank, this was so much stranger than I was expecting, even from a book by Rivers Solomon. But despite the weirdness, the overarching story and themes of ferocity and finding truth beyond society and one's upbringing were never muddied.

There are turns and characters that will keep you fully engaged throughout the story. The struggle with parenthood by oneself was gorgeously and rawly depicted, with some truly heartfelt moments. There is so much packed into this book that a single review cannot do it justice. Solomon continues to go above and beyond anything thought possible with their writing.

4.5 stars. This book did not let me go, it’s original, dark and emotional and it has some suspense elements. It’s going to be tricky to write a review without spoilers, but here we go.

The title is well chosen, since there is so much sorrow and despair. While this is fiction, it still gives some painful insights in how messed up our society can be. Generally, I do not like it when a book is very depressing, but there was also enough light in this book to make this an enjoyable read for me. The start of the book could be considered realism, but after a while it shifts out of realism. If I have to compare it with something, I would compare it to the feel of a dystopian novel where you know certain things are not realistic, but at the same time parts of it do not feel entirely unrealistic.

The main of the book is Vern and she recently ran away from a religious cult. At 15 years old she’s still a girl, but at the time of her escape she’s 7 months pregnant. This already gives enough insight in the cult she was living in. In an effort to remain hidden from the cult, she decides to try to survive in the forest with her twins. However, after a while, strange things are happening to her body and she is forced to leave the forest with her two children that are not adapted to civilized life, or other people for that matter.

Vern is a complex character. She’s not the most likeable person, being shaped by her life experiences, but I admired her and cared for her all the same. She’s smart, stubborn, and brave. Especially the part where she lives in the woods illustrates her strength, she has an impaired eye sight, is still very young and has two young children care for, but she does not give up. I loved her two children, they play an important role in the book, you watch them grow and become their own person. It’s not always easy to give kids personality in books, but Solomon did an excellent job.

The book has a specific prose that is tailored to Vern and I found that I enjoyed it. The pace is rather slow, especially during the first half of the book, but despite the slow pace the story kept me intrigued the entire time. It is written in 3rd person almost entirely from the POV of Vern (I think about 98%). I believe there were two small instances where the POV changed (if I didn’t miss one).

The only comments I have are about the last 20% of the book (which led to a decrease in rating from 5 to 4 stars) and I have to mention that they largely come down to my personal preferences. The ending felt abrupt and several things are left open. This was clearly a deliberate choice of the author, but I would have liked more closure and preferably a small peek into the future. There was also a change in POV very near the end. While this actually gave quite an interesting story on its own, it pulled me out of the main story, which was right in the middle of the final conflict, so I wish it were left out.

I’m really bad at giving trigger warnings, so I’m not even going to try for this book, but there is quite a long list, so you may want to check some other reviews for a comprehensive list. This book is not for everybody, but it really got to me and is one that I will not forget.
If you’re looking for something dark and moody, just outside the realm of realism, with excellent character building, then I easily recommend this book!

Wow! "Sorrowland" by Rivers Solomon is one great book! Blending elements of magical realism, gothic horror, science fiction, and literary fiction, it is also one difficult book to describe! Woven throughout the fictional narrative are themes of how poorly the United States has treated both Black Americans and its native peoples. This is truly unlike any book I have read before. and I want more!

"Sorrowland" is the story of Vern, who escapes from a cult-like compound (Cainland) in the middle of the night. While seemingly free, she gives birth to her babies while living in the woods, but the the clutches of the cult continually threaten to drag her back. The rest of this action-filled story is how Vern struggles to escape the group once and for all, while trying to keep her children and new friends safe. Along the way, Vern learns a terrifying secret about the origins and purpose of Cainland which, in turn, enables her to learn more about herself and the incredible power she possesses.

"Sorrowland" is an engrossing and entertaining read. The author is a master of the craft, and the words paint a vivid description of Vern's world. I was often, especially toward the end of the book, on the edge of my seat and I couldn't turn the pages quickly enough to find out what would happen next. This is one of those books that make a reader want to take a day off from work so he or she can devote enough time to read it straight through. I was absolutely enthralled by Vern's story.

Many thanks to NetGalley, the author and the publisher for the privilege of reading an advanced digital copy of this fantastic book in exchange for my honest review. This was my first book by Rivers Solomon, but it won't be my last!

A hugely ambitious novel that tackles big themes and even bigger conflicts, "Sorrowland" isn't able to gracefully chew all it has bitten off.

The story follows Vern, a defiant and surly teenager who gives birth to twins alone in a forest, on the run from a troubled past and an unknown pursuer. She makes a life for herself and her babies in the woods, always ready to flee the fiend who chases her. As she transitions from survivor to survivalist, she gradually supplies the backstory of the life she left behind at the Blessed Acres of Cain, a compound founded by Black people for Black people to live outside white oppression and toxicity. Years pass in a routine that's hardscrabble but sufficient, until circumstances force Vern and her toddlers into civilization to find shelter with an old friend. The journey is complicated, especially by a mysterious illness that gives Vern great strength even as it threatens to leave her children motherless.

Vern finds sanctuary and friends and a precarious balance with her infection, which stems from her time on the compound. As she learns the alchemy of her new strength and strange vulnerabilities, her perspective shifts and she reframes her understanding of the past. The reality of the Blessed Acres teeters between a cult and government experiment, and its results in Vern bring the novel to an action-heavy climax.

The story and the writing are at their best in the book's most domestic moments, as she's mothering her children to the best of her singular ability, when she's building a life from the earth, as she haltingly forges relationships that might risk a dent to her prickly armor, in her vivid descriptions of her own headstrong obstinacy: "Vern didn't believe Mam's adage about picking battles. Everything that could be contested needed contesting. She could wear opponents down by the sheer quantity of escalations." The main characters, especially the too-precocious twins, spark to life and speak in real individual voices.

The themes considered are timely and important: gender, sexuality, the lived experience of Blackness, the vulnerability of Black bodies, a reasoned lack of trust in authority, the pervasiveness of betrayal, and the haunting persistence of the past in the present. That's a lot of water to carry, and the plot sloshes ideas together without a cohesive or illuminating trajectory. Vern must learn to cope with her body's new abilities and limitations, but she has no plan or method for practicing that, instead relying on leaps of logic that feel unearned in such an unprecedented situation. She and her companions search out a government conspiracy, but without really doing any research or investigation. The attempt is made to show that Vern's illness supplies her with the instincts to just know, but the science underpinning this science fiction is not convincing. The third act and finale feel slapdash and almost pasted in from another story.

The potential in this novel was great but despite some shining moments of character and keen observation, the story gets lost in the wilderness.

Many thanks to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing the free eARC of this book.

Sorrowland is a contemporary SFF horror that never shies away from the gritty details in this harrowing tale that it’s trying to tell. This is a survival story, a monster story and a brutal thriller all in one.

The story follows a fifteen-year-old pregnant girl named Vern who is on the run from her much-older husband and their commune ‘Cainland’ in general. Cainland is a place that originally started as a Black power movement – a secluded compound seeking independence from the hostility of their white neighbours – but eventually under the reign of a tyrannical leader it turned into a religious cult rife with abuse.

The commune preached living off the land and taught sustainable survival skills, so Vern is not afraid of making her living for as long as possible in the woods to which she escaped. When she gives birth to her twins, Howling and Feral, she chooses to raise them hidden in these same woods she grows to know well. She has nowhere else to go and her distrust of the outside world is just as strong as her distrust for the commune. Her solitary life in the wild is made easier by her strangely growing strength and resilience – which grows to the point where she seems to be transforming in frightening ways. But this transformation just may be essential for her survival, as she knows that there is a someone that hunts and stalks her and her children within the woods.

Sorrowland’s narrative is atmospheric and haunting. This can be an uncomfortable read but it is clear from the start that it was never meant to be comfortable one. It’s the kind of book that forces you to contend with unpleasant truths unapologetically. It makes no effort to disguise reality just as Vern knows it to be – no matter how messy or strange or monstrous.

Vern herself is a fascinating character. She is a Black woman with albinism and a visual impairment that had marked her as ‘different’ from her peers from the start. She is perfectly aware that she is not someone who others would describe as “likable”, but then, she’s never wanted to be. She is a fighter who’s remained defiant in the face of every attempt to break her down. She makes no excuses for her disagreeable nature knowing that it’s exactly what has fueled her through horrors. But there is still vulnerability inherit in Vern – and a hidden longing for connection. She’s experienced deep abuse and loss in her life that she struggles to work through, especially since much of what she suffered was tied to her understanding of her identity. Watching her come to terms with her sexuality and sense of self on her own terms is cathartic in its own way.

Perhaps this is why her relationships with her children are all the more compelling. Vern tries her best to be as good a mother and to give them freedom to live and discover the world in ways that Vern herself never got to experience as a child. There are times that she fails them, and there are times that her eldest challenges her, but her love for them and them for her is real. When their tiny world expands to include a few others later on, it’s interesting to see her slowly let down her guard and try to let them in. It important to note, though, that her experiences with genuine love do not completely change her into a new person – she still remains mistrusting and morally grey to her core, and I think this is what makes her so nuanced.

The only thing I struggled with a bit was the suddenness of the ending events. This story was built up at such a steady pace with developments that had been so carefully fleshed out up until that point, that the very end seemed to go at a rapid speed. I think this was partially intentional as a sense of urgency was necessary, but there were certain important scenes and discussions that seemed relatively more glossed over by the descriptive narrative in comparison to some of the events from earlier on. But I appreciate the message that was being communicated.

Overall, this is an intriguing genre-bending novel that has a great deal of implicit social commentary in the midst of the horror and strife. I did truly marvel at the fluidity of the dialogue and descriptions that captured everything from the earthy, to the grotesque, and to the mundane just perfectly. Solomon can really make the world come alive.

Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing the free eARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I really don’t know what to say about Sorrowland. This book was slow and intense, but also deeply compelling. Rivers Solomon is one of the best authors, and the way fae writes about heavy topics is so layered and beautiful.

Vern grew up in Cainland, a utopia for Black people separate from the outside colonialist influences, but while pregnant Vern manages to escape one night and lives in the woods for several years. She does everything in her power to stay safe and away from Cainland, especially as she starts to realize that everything she grew up knowing wasn’t as honest as she believed. When she meets Bridget and Gogo, with Howling and Feral she thinks she’s found a safe home. But nothing can be so simple with the truths Vern is now privy to.

I really don’t want to say too much about what happens in Sorrowland because, despite how slow reading felt at times, this is such a powerful, thought-provoking story. Rivers does so much with speculative fiction and telling heavy stories with a gentle touch. I highly recommend this, especially if you want a book that doesn’t pull emotional punches but still has a hopeful ending.

A young girl births two babes and must survive in the wild while facing retribution from the cult she escaped from. This is a harrowing novel that I had to walk away from several times.

"... thrust into despair at the depth of human gullibility. Perhaps it was a necessity of the species. To be bent toward believing. For in the wild, a child who did not take to heart the words of its caregivers would easily perish."

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon was so much more than I had been expecting. I guess after reading The Deep, which was more of a novella, I had been expecting something similar here, but Sorrowland was intense comparatively. It starts off with 15 year old Vern giving birth in the woods not long after escaping from Cainland, the cult she was raised in. Part survival story, part gothic horror, part reckoning, Rivers Solomon has expertly blurred genre boundaries yet again.

I actually enjoyed Sorrowland more than The Deep. I couldn't put this book down. I kept telling myself "alright just one more chapter" then Vern would pull me back in for more...

Disclaimer: The quoted text is from an advanced reader copy I received from FSGbooks and NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

I was enthralled with Rivers Solomon’s The Deep when I read it back at the end of 2019 so when I saw that Solomon had another book publishing soon, I jumped at the chance to read this one too. While the novel played out in a very different way than I expected from when I first read the description, it reminded me so much of one of my other favorite writers (Octavia Butler) that I was in no way disappointed. Brutal and fantastic in every meaning of those words, Sorrowland explores themes of power and oppression as well as resilience, resistance, and duality, challenging many of the norms that society accepts and perpetuates.

Vern’s been living in the woods and evading the fiend hunting her for two months since her escape from Cainland and its “Blessed Acres” compound where she’d grown up. But as she goes into labor and births her twin sons, the dangers of her situation truly hit home with more than herself to protect. As time goes by, however, Vern begins to notice changes in her body and her abilities, starting with inhuman strength, endurance, and healing. Between the changes and her own desires – both to be a good mother to her boys but also to remain her own, sometimes selfish, person – Vern starts to venture beyond the woods and into the white man’s world that Cainland had taught her to loathe and avoid. But the threats there and those from Cainland may not be as different as she’d once thought.

One of the elements of Vern’s story that I found so compelling and true was the struggle to balance the good and the bad from her experiences. As much as she wants to write off everything from her childhood on the compound, she also knows she wouldn’t have been able to survive as successfully on her own in the woods if she hadn’t been given the deep knowledge of nature and basic survival skills that the Cainland community instilled in its inhabitants. Those lessons are as deeply embedded as the harmful ones about her sexuality and womanhood that she struggles for years to free herself from. Trust, similarly, is difficult for Vern because of the betrayals and experiences in her past, but eventually Vern learns that she doesn’t need to face her demons alone – that there are some she can’t escape without help – and that there is strength in community, delicate though a healthy balance of community can be.

In fact, so much of the novel comes down to finding and maintaining balance which is perhaps best exemplified by Vern’s relationship with her own body. The inhuman strength and healing are elements of her shifting being that she struggles with most. Pushing herself to her new limits ¬– seeing just how much weight she can carry, how far she can throw something, how much physical damage she can endure – are only half of what she needs to know. She also needs to learn how to temper that strength for the sake of those she loves, especially her children who – after knowing only their life in the woods for the first few years of their lives – know little beyond what their mother has taught them or what they’ve been able to learn on their own so far away from any kind of society. The parent/child relationship is another that gets explored throughout the novel as Vern compares herself to other parents she sees as well as to her own troubled relationship with her mother back on the compound.

There are so many layers of Sorrowland to unpack. It’s one of those books that’s going to linger and I know I’ll eventually read it again (and hopefully I’ll be able to get one of my friends to read it too because it’s a novel that demands discussion). I also know that I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for anything new from Rivers Solomon in the coming years.

Sorrowland will be available May 4, 2021.

Wild, profound, ferocious, and tangibly strange at times. Sorrowland is as mystical and beautiful as its cover and title make it seem. There’s so much in this book that I know I haven’t fully grasped yet, but it just makes me excited to go hunting for more information.

I received an ARC of Sorrowland from Farrar, Straus and Giroux in exchange for an honest review.

I’m always on the lookout for books by authors who aren’t cishet white men, and given the rave reviews for Solomon’s debut An Unkindness of Ghosts, I was eagerly anticipating Sorrowland. I hope now that Solomon’s latest is a fluke, because there’s no elegant way to say it—Sorrowland is a strong story that devolves into an absolute mess, so overstuffed with underdeveloped themes, metaphors, and characters (who don’t behave anything like human beings) that it falls apart.

Sorrowland follows Vern, an albino Black woman who escapes a cult leader and gives birth to twins she names Howling and Feral, who she lives with in the woods. The opening section of the novel, in which Vern struggles to survive with her children and minimal contact with the outside world while being hunted by a psychological tormenter she refers to as “the fiend,” are singularly thrilling and literally haunting. Vern is the most compelling character in the book, precocious but also emotionally and intellectually stunted; the love she has for her children is real, but she also abandons them regularly when lured by the siren song of civilization. Sorrowland is at its strongest when it inhabits the liminal spaces of Vern at her most self-contradictory.

No other character in the novel—there aren’t many—is given the care and attention that Solomon gives to Vern. They are either caricature or only briefly sketched, sauntering onto the figurative stage to propel Vern’s development before conveniently disappearing. None of them act in a way resembling real humans; they react to things such as ghosts and decapitations with roughly the same level of shock that I express when I open the microwave and discover a bowl of soup that I put in four hours ago and forgot to eat (i.e. an extremely low level of shock).

I do want to note that I did not find the book unrealistic insofar as it echoes real-world horrors. The central metaphor of Sorrowland draws upon the exploitation of Black bodies (if you don’t think about Henrietta Lacks while reading this novel, you aren’t paying attention), and in that respect it resonates deeply and truly. It is only in how characters behave within the fictional framework that Sorrowland violates any semblance of credulity and ultimately unravels.

The problems get worse and worse as the book goes on. My brain broke during a scene involving Rihanna’s song “Shut Up And Drive”; it was one of the (I hesitate to use this sloppy descriptor in my formal writing, but I can’t come up with an alternative that accurately describes the reaction I had) cringey-est sequences I’ve ever read in a work of professional fiction. By the time I reached the rushed finale, which demonstrates all the craftsmanship of a homework assignment slapped together hours before submission, I was so checked out that I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything that was happening. Frankly, I was glad to finally be done with the novel.

Solomon’s writing, at least, is strong. There are a number of striking passages in Sorrowland, particularly when it flirts with horror, and the book likely would have benefitted from leaning more heavily into the escalating tension and atmosphere of oppressive dread that clings to its early sections. But strong writing isn’t enough to save the novel from the uneven pacing and lack of compelling character work that undermine its final third and finale. Sorrowland may not be the worst book I read this year—it has many admirable qualities, and it’s not an unequivocal failure—but it will certainly be one of the most disappointing. I hope the next work from Solomon is just as fiery and just as ambitious, but I also hope it is more fully realized.

Sorrowland, at a very basic level, is about a child living in a cult, forced into marriage, and impregnated by her much older, cult leader husband. As the children are being born she escapes into the woods to raise her children. This description of the story is accurate but doesn't even begin to highlight how weird and surreal the book actually is. There is something wrong with Vern but I cant explain what without spoiling the beautiful story.

Rivers Solomon's approach to to gender is one of the most inspiring things I've ever read. I enjoyed their gender fluid characters in An Unkindness of Ghosts and they take it so much further in Sorrowland. They also create opportunities for important conversations about racism against both black people and indigenous Americas. The cultural research that went into the book is amazing and the little extra facts are fun too.

Although I don't personally dislike the fact that this book is weird its EXTREMLY weird and sometimes confusing and I think that might turn some readers off of the story. There are also some instances of extreme body horror.