This book was absolutely gut-wrenching, and I loved it.
In an isolated town where specifically mothers are disappearing, the women of the town try to find a pattern to these vanishings.
Cue the judgement from others, and themselves, regarding these women’s ability to care for their children. Why are some mothers going and others not? What were those missing mothers doing wrong? Reading through the conversations that the mothers left in town were having was painful, if not for how real it is. It fascinated me how these women, who were also mothers, could so easily lend judgment to others knowing how hard motherhood is themselves. But they needed something to point to in order to make themselves feel safer, to feel like they wouldn’t vanish because they didn’t do the same thing.
In reality, all of these mothers loved their children deeply, and it was that love that made the possibility of disappearing so terrifying.

When Vera, the main character, goes on her journey.. oh my goodness. I cried actual tears for her. Her return was heartbreaking, and when you realize what is happening, and how it compares to events of the past, it was such an emotional experience.

Schaitkin’s writing was exceptional and really transported you into the setting of the story. Her words were almost lyrical, poetic. They really added to the emotional investment I had in the story.

Read this if you want to cry.
I recommend looking up TW/CW ahead of time, as well.

[Review goes live next week]
Alexis Schaitkin explores motherhood and the mother-daughter dyad in her latest book, Elsewhere, a tale with fable-like and speculative elements narrated by Vera, a resident of an isolated village “high above the rest of the world.” In this place, the weather is always pleasant during the day, while at night, everyone follows a voluntary curfew as the clouds eerily roll in. Our narrator describes her village, built by others in a language they don’t speak, as having Germanic street names (Hauptstrasse, Gartenstrasse, Hinter der Wald, and so on), high in a mountain jungle (not a forest) with a river that magically never overflows and never dries. The villagers understand there’s an “elsewhere,” separate from them in significant ways, not least because the strangers live far down the mountain where no one goes except for the one man whose quarterly trips from elsewhere supply the village with goods in exchange for the baskets woven skillfully by the women.

This quaintness of place seems antique, like a fairy tale where guilds, manual labors, and slow living are the norm. The more intriguing descriptions, however, are of the behaviors and customs. Schaitkin presents a world with cult-like behaviors. Villagers follow strict moral and behavioral codes, including no premarital sex. Here, women wear their hair braided and pinned, each having her own hairpin with which she pricks her husband during sex—literally letting down her hair—and then she tastes his blood. In this village, people touch each other often, such as when exchanging goods or money, their fingers sliding over each other. The young girls form “threesomes” or, less frequently, “pairings.” The touching and pairings and threesomes, however, are all innocent situations—another characteristic that adds to the village’s feeling of other times, other worldliness.

The anachronisms story may surprise and confound the reader. The village has a photography shop that develops and prints photos, and Vera’s husband is a dentist. Schaitkin spends most of parts one and two of the five-part novel building this world, where mothers have an “affliction”—one that takes them into the nightly mists, villagers suppose, where suddenly they disappear and no one knows why or where they go or if they die. The anachronisms like the photo shop are deliberate because they serve distinct plot points. When villagers wake to find a mother is missing, the they respond ritualistically—burning all photos of the mother, among other acts. In this fire, the memory of the mother is excised from the community, and then life continues. All of this is essentially world building, and perhaps that is the greatest flaw in this novel. The telling unfolds slowly at first and often includes elements that don’t seem to matter or have little significance, like the pairing/threesomes of the girls.

The elements that keep readers engaged, revolve around mothering. On the one hand, mothering is love and caring. On the other, it is dark, mysterious, terrifying, and deadly. This fear of disappearing haunts every mother and infects their parenting. Did a mother disappear because she was too connected to her children? Not connected enough? The affliction, while mysterious, is accepted as part of their life in the otherwise idyllic village, but it’s also a source of blame and speculation even if no one knows the source or purpose of the affliction. Schaitkin seems to be commenting on the ways society blames mothers for things that seem out of their control, and yet she leaves readers in an ambiguous state where situations are never clear, never concrete.
As Schaitkin explores mothering, the telling of the story offers insights around motherhood, childrearing, and the push and pull between mother and child. For example, she writes that “A mother was a chance to hate someone as much as you loved them, carrying and wounding, a push and pull that only tightened the knot that bound you.” The complex act of mothering and being mothered filters through Vera’s narrative. As a mother, she struggles to find what’s right, what parenting techniques might keep her close to her child, what tiny movement off the parenting path might result in the affliction taking her in the night, what actions might save her life so that she may watch her child grow. This tension is one of many showing that mothering is fraught: “Impossible to predict, what motherhood would bring out of a woman, what it would show her about herself, the end to which it would carry her.” Vera makes a sudden decision about her safety, and the novel turns on this point, perhaps too late because the turn feels more like an inciting incident that should come earlier because so much of the plot and tension comes after this point. What gets readers to that later turning point is the strangeness of the world, but for some readers that might not be enough.

Throughout the storytelling, Schaitkin includes insights in unexpected places, and astute readers will start hunting for them. As narrator, Vera lingers through world building, through summary rather than scene, and then suddenly the reader gets a line of much deeper truth, richness, and complexity: “I loved to love her this way, even as I worried that this love might not be what a child needs, that it might also be a kind of harm.” This darker side of motherhood and of mother-daughter tension becomes a character of sorts, wending itself like a poisonous snake that could strike on the next page. When the mothers are gathered with their children and a young girl needs care, but “When her mother ran up from the grass with a wet handkerchief to wipe it away, Di rolled her eyes and sassed, ‘I’ve got it’; she combed the mess out of her hair with her own fingers rather than give her mother the satisfaction of being needed.” The daughter steals emotional gratification, because in this world “Mothers and daughters brought something out of each other.” As Vera moves from childhood to motherhood, she’s confronted with parallels, with her struggles and choices as a mother reflecting those her mother made. One tension in this area is the obvious one: Will Vera become her mother, taking a similar path?

The central questions in the novel include how does a mother negotiate her own needs with the needs of the child? To what lengths will a mother go to save herself, to become herself? What’s at stake if a mother abandons her child in attempts to stay alive to see her child grow up? Straddling two worlds, Vera’s journey takes readers through a woman’s desires, her emotional needs, and her wishes to acquire self-actualization.

The most thought provoking book I've read this year! Beautifully written with subtle elements of magical realism, Elsewhere tells the story of Vera growing up in an isolated community that has several peculiar customs and a strange affliction that causes mothers to disappear. As Vera marries and has a child of her own, her fear of falling victim to this affliction causes her to make drastic action. This book would make an excellent book club choice, as it is sure to lead to interesting discussion.

Ugh, this book started out really strong for me and I was interested up to part 3, but then the author lost me. I made it to the end of the book but I was left with so many unanswered questions and frustration. I hope others find it more enjoyable and are able to find the deeper meaning that I wasn’t able to grasp.

This was my second attempt at reading a book by Alexis Schaitkin and after reading this, I don't think she writes the kind of stories that click with me. I really didn't like her book, Saint X, and I didn't much like this one either.
I wanted to like it and it had some good parts to it, but I couldn't quite get into it. I was a little lost and not sure what I was reading when I was reading it and didn't know what I had read after I was done with it.
This book was better than Saint X. Despite that, it was a bit too weird for my liking. There was also some material in this story that bothered me with the sexual info and the perverted glimpse into the intimacy of a married couple.
This story had to do a lot with mothers and motherhood, mothers disappearing in a small town in the middle of nowhere that seemed to be like its own world, separate from the normal world. I also didn't understand or like the sucking of the blood bits during intimate moments. There was a lot that wasn't explained very well and left me a bit confused, so it just wasn't my cup of tea.
Thanks to Celadon Books and NetGalley for letting me read and review this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Vera lives in a town totally separated from the rest of the world where mothers go "gone" and no one thinks anything of it. I don't want to say more because I don't want to spoil the story. I'll just say that I was hooked the whole time & I've continue thinking about the book even after finishing. I definitely recommend this book.
Thank you Netgalley for the free copy in exchange for an honest review.

High above the world in a mountain range is a town, populated by people who have lived in isolation for a long as anyone remembers. They don’t know how they got there and they don’t have any knowledge of the town’s origins; they just know that the names of streets and other landmarks are in a language they don’t speak. The unnamed town has an affliction: sometimes, even in the split-second between turning away and glancing back, a mother disappears. She no longer is, and the town closes the hole she leaves so efficiently that it’s as if she never was.

The most brilliantly written books are the hardest to review; it’s so easy to fall into a weak imitation of the cadence of the author’s perfect prose or to draw comparisons that have already been made by others. It’s challenging to write a review that doesn’t sound like a book report. So, I will share some brief personal reflections, breaking the cardinal rule of avoiding first person references, because I’ve wasted enough energy trying to figure out how to avoid “I” (which is a disappearance in itself, I suppose):

As a mother, I had the sense of disappearing when my son was an infant; I could not define myself outside of my role as a mother. I took some steps that affirmed my worth as a person. Vera, the first-person narrator of Elsewhere, did something similar, but for different reasons and with a much more drastic outcome.

As a daughter, I watched my mother disappear as she fought through ten years with Alzheimer’s disease, effectively erasing “Mom” in my memory – for now – and replacing her with Kitty who couldn’t speak but who smiled with her eyes. There is a parallel in the book (not Alzheimer’s-related), but to say more would be to venture into spoiler territory. To be clear, this is not a book about Alzheimer’s and there is not even a remote reference to any kind of dementia in the story.

My siblings and I talk ourselves out of our worries about contracting the disease by listing factors that might have predisposed her, much as the remaining mothers in Elsewhere look for (or manufacture) faults in every mother who vanishes in an effort to reassure themselves that they won’t be next.

Alexis Schaitkin’s brutal story of motherhood, affliction, forgetting, and remembering holds such universal truth that it will spark deep reactions for all readers. It won’t disappear, and it won’t easily be forgotten.

Thank you to NetGalley and Celadon Books for an ARC of this book. I used it to write my honest, if inadequate, review.

As a long time reader of fiction, I love books to have character. Not characters, but character. And, once again, Alexis Schaitkin has created a book with just such character and I loved it! This book is page turning and captivating and I loved every minute! Definitely 4 stars and two thumbs up!

Alexis Schaitkin is an extremely talented writer that brings her characters, the town, and the "affliction" they face to life. I felt so deeply for Vera, our MC, and the phases of life she experiences, broken into five different parts of the story. In the small town where the story takes place, residents speak only of other places as "elsewhere" and families wake up one day to find their wives or mothers have mysteriously disappeared. This is their affliction, one in which no one truly understands, but everyone tries desperately to recognize when they first noticed a woman was off, which must have marked as a sign that she was the next to go.

"You do not get to keep what is sweetest to you; you only get to remember it from the vantage point of having lost it."

This is a beautiful allegory of motherhood, the deep and tiring pains that come with it, but also the deepest most beautiful love you cannot imagine for another being.

Interesting. For one, I could not understand fully the time period or the purpose of the town. How could they have no history? Or understanding of history? It seemed that motherhood is the core of the story and the town but it exists as an idea, not a bond. Theres no notion of good/bad mothers just those that will disappear and the reasons can only be seen in retrospect. Nothing seemed overtly malicious but a simmering insidiousness lived.

I can't figure out if the disappearing is suicide or departure or some other mystical thing; or all three. The idea of a "stranger" seemed to be rooted in keeping things as they are, a cautionary tale that no one is truly aware of bc they don't actually know how anyone from elsewhere comes to be. Were only the men allowed to see things as they were? So many questions. I think this is a book you roll around in your brain trying to understand and get to the precipice of an Epiphany only to find it opening the door to more questions. Yes the ending makes sense but answers very little outside the sole experience of Vera.

Vera, the narrator of Elsewhere, is a young girl living in her small, isolated town. On the surface, the place feels almost idyllic but it has a strange, mysterious affliction: every once in a while, a mother from the town simply vanishes into thin air. Vera’s own mother disappeared in that way years ago, and now the girl lives only with her father. Their lives are quiet and disciplined, but a stranger’s arrival in the town has more consequences for Vera’s fate than she could ever expect.

Despite it’s shortness, this book will stay with me for a long time. It’s strange, creepy, and deliciously weird - especially in the beginning, it reminded me of the 2019 horror movie Midsommar. I absolutely loved the atmosphere and the fact that there were some details that were never explicitly explained (for example the hair pins with wich women pricked the men during sex). Usually that would feel frustrating, but in this case it just added to the unsettling vibe. It’s a character-driven story and the middle part dragged a bit, but the beginning and ending were amazing. Schaitkin writes about themes that are becoming more and more difficult to be indifferent about - namely belonging, being a member of a community, as well as mother- and womanhood. It’s disturbing, not to the point where it becomes detestable, but rather to where you need to take a few days to really think about and digest the book.

TLDR: Elsewhere is a darkly fascinating piece of speculative fiction that will slowly but surely creep you out and force you to think at the same time.

This book was just too creepy for me. The premise is strong, but the tone of the writing creates such an eerie, hopeless atmosphere that I found myself wanting to escape the world it created rather than let it have space in my imagination. I am not sure if I would have had a different, more curious response had we not all spent the past two years in the forced fear & isolation of quarantine. But right now I don’t have the capacity for tales that are this grim. But the writing is strong and the author has created a very real and unique world here, so it may well resonate with other readers.

Thanks to NetGalley for providing a copy of this book.

4.5 stars

This was completely different from what I thought it was going to be. I was immediately drawn in by the author's beautiful writing. She's created a story that is mysterious, strange, haunting, and almost poetic.

Elsewhere is broken into 5 sections rather than chapters, but at less than 250 pages, it didn't feel as daunting.

This book isn't going to be for everyone, but for those of us who are mothers, this will resonate with you. Everyone is going to take something different from this book, and for me, this felt like a novel about the pressures put on mothers. You need to do everything perfectly, but not too perfectly, be nurturing but ambitious, be present but not overbearing, be a mother but a woman, motherhood must consume you, but don't lose yourself.

This novel is totally unique, I haven't read anything like it before - it's still haunting me days after reading it. While I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, those who connect with it will love it like I do.

If you liked The Push or The School For Good Mothers you should give Elsewhere a read!

Thank you to Netgalley and Celadon Books for my e-arc of this book!

This story was readable and captivating; absolutely relatable and yet eerie. It was very well done in the way that it was describing this mysterious affliction and a lot of what was being described was super normal in real, everyday life. I highlighted a lot of things and was very intrigued, but ultimately it all fell flat. I had pretty high hopes and so I'm not sure if that's why this book feels mediocre at best but it just felt like it was missing something...maybe I wanted a more direct connection to it all rather than vague illusions?

It was definitely interesting though and I most appreciated the examination of motherhood in the context...but I think a part of it almost felt one-sided? Or unresolved? I can't quite put my finger on it. I liked it, but I probably won't be recommending it.

I really do believe this is a case of this was not the relight book for me at the time. I enjoyed the writing and the premise was definitely intriguing. Sometimes there are things that happen/happened in your personal life that affect your reading. And that was me. So, without getting into a lot of detail. I 100% understand what it means to lose one’s mother.

Anyway, I thought concept was interesting. I enjoyed how Schaitkin went from Vera’s childhood to teenage years to adulthood - marriage and motherhood. Something about the exploration of self fell flat for me. I liked how Schaitkin wanted yo explore how we lose ourselves when we become mothers and the consequences of that loss. I also find it sad that after the homes are purged of the mothers how people forget about them. I know the ritual of purging any memory of the mother is supposed to be disturbing and it was because I’m trying to persevere what memories I have of my mother. Her laugh. Her smile. Her smell. And, if I’m being honest the ritual made me angry.

I did love how Vera left town and found her way in Elsewhere. Although I didn’t like that she went back I understand why she did.

Elsewhere by Alexis Schaitkin was an interesting and thought-provoking read (with a stunning cover).

Vera grows up in a secluded community where after awhile the mothers simply vanish. It is simply the ailment of the place. After the mothers are afflicted, they disappear in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. After their going, the rest of the town burns all of the images of the mother and ravages through their belongings to take trinkets for their own keeping. Once Vera becomes a mother, she faces a difficult decision - to stay and raise her daughter as long as she can until the affliction gets to her or leave and go elsewhere. But if she leaves, will she and the town ever be the same?

Overall, I enjoyed this book. It was a bit of a slow burn for me, but it picked up about half way through. I liked Vera as a main character. I admired her for not just accepting things as they were and her ability to keep living elsewhere. I also enjoyed the twist with the stranger, it was not something I picked up on initially, but I did begin to suspect it around the time Vera wants to go back to her family.

As a side note, I also really enjoyed all of the German street names for the town.

All in all, this was a thought-provoking read about motherhood, self-identity and finding what else is out there beyond your hometown.

This is the book for people who preferred Midsommar over Hereditary: it is deeply unnerving and tense, set in a backdrop that at first teems with natural beauty, only to become dilapidated as one sees the layers lurking under the surface.
This book raises a lot of questions, and it answers next to none of them. That is the beauty in it, to fully surrender yourself to its tide just like the people in the town surrender themselves to the inevitable disappearances of some of their mothers.

I was super intrigued by the premise of this book. Ultimately, I felt the writing was very strong, but the overall plotting and ending lacked something. It felt like the book was trying to make a bold statement...that I couldn't quite piece together.

I would read more from the author, but this wasn't my favorite read.

What makes a mother a good mother or a bad mother? That’s the question on every woman’s mind in the small town Vera lives in. Unable to remember her own mother, she begins to wonder how or if she’ll be remembered or missed if/when she too disappears.

I admit it. The cover sucked me in on this one. Then I read the synopsis and the idea of a dystopian novel centered around motherhood totally pulled me in. Unfortunately, I almost DNF this one.

For the majority of the book (the first 57% according to my Kindle app), I wasn’t sure what I was reading. The writing is beautiful, mostly, with a few exceptions here and there, but it all went on like a giant run-on sentence the majority of the time. The book is broken up into 5 parts without any chapter breaks or thought breaks it would seem. I can only imagine how that must read on the audiobook. This made it super slow-going and I had a hard time keeping my eyes open.

I was also super confused by the pronoun usage in the first half, as the narrative kept switching from “we” to “I” and back again. After reading the last third of the book, I understand why it was written this way. Still, it was quirky, and kept me focusing on trying to figure out who was talking exactly instead of the story. It went on this way for two-thirds of the book.

In addition to the sometimes confusing pronoun usage, it is obvious that the town Vera lives in is not normal, mothers disappearing into thin air, their images being burned and their belongings being divided up among those who remain. I get that these things and others are used to add to the mystique of the town, but it is never really explained and there doesn’t really appear to be much purpose to any of it. I’m left with more questions than answers, as this book asks you to just ride with it and take it on faith. I tried, and it came through in the end, but it was hard getting to that point.

Things quickly started to make more sense in the last third, and the book finally became more interesting as pieces fell together. After finishing this book, I find myself torn. The writing was very lovely and I did end up liking the book by the time I finished, but given how many times I almost didn’t pick this book back up again, I can’t rate it any higher than three out of five.

If you’re looking for a light, summer read to take to the beach, this is not the book for you. But if you’re looking for a thought-provoking novel that explores the difficulties of being a woman and/or mother, you should add this one to your list.

Elsewhere is one of those books that’s hard to talk about. It’s difficult to discern what’s happening for the first half of the book, and when the pieces finally click into place, you don’t want to spoil the surprise for anyone else who might read it. I really liked the sense of foreboding that resonated throughout the entire story and enjoyed theorizing about what was happening as I read. One of the things that kept me from fully buying into the novel was the lack of closure at the end. The build-up was great and the sudden ending made it feel like the book had been cut short.

If you like speculative fiction or a dystopian novel with a literary twist, this might be a good one for you. Be sure to check out the content warnings before diving in, as some sensitive topics are discussed.

Thanks to NetGalley and Celadon Books for the eARC!