ARC provided by NetGalley.

It has been a long time since I read something so sincere and tender. Reading this novel in the midst of the Palestinian genocide, when my own college is so heavily restricting any kind of protest, made it so much more relevant and horrifying.

Usually, when people say that they go away from a book with more questions than answers, they present it as a critique, but in this case it is the highest compliment I can give. This novel posed so many pertinent queries about what it is to live in a broken world and its political system and how to find the balance between self-preservation and the duty to seek change. It made me re-evaluate my own outlook on protest, on hope and on drawing the boundaries between the individual and the political (and whether there are any).

All of these discussions were put forward through a compelling dual-narrative plot with a greatly interesting cast of characters. The writing style was beautiful and the two perspectives were handled so well - even though I am not usually a fan of multiple POVs, it felt so necessary in this case to really showcase the generational aspect of the issues surrounding this book.

Honestly, just… wow. Everyone concerned for the state of the world needs to read this, right now.

I kept pausing while I was reading “There’s Going to be Trouble,” the most personally involving novel I’ve read in some time, to study author Jen Silverman’s photo and marvel at how someone so seemingly young – decades younger than I, anyway – could have gotten down so viscerally the Vietnam-era times of my early adulthood, a time you’d think would be as distant for members of Silverman’s generation as, say, World War I, would be for mine. Indeed, even closer, perhaps, the Great War, to my experience than Vietnam for Silverman’s, with the print-to-digital transformation and other seminal changes over the years that have made today’s world so different from even a quarter century ago, let alone the half-century now that it’s been since the Vietnam War.
No simply googling “Vietnam” for me and others of my college generation, after all, as we sought to find out more about the foreign involvement that was already shaping up to be the quagmire that it would become – the Vietnam of Silverman’s novel – but about which the only in-depth sources of information at the time were newspapers and magazines, which, by the time we saw them, unlike instantaneous Google feeds today, were already dated. There was TV news, of course, but in those days it was delivered in only 15-minute snippets, and there wasn’t that much opportunity for me to watch it anyway, with how preoccupied we all were with our studies in those days when college profs took no prisoners in their grading – another difference, it would seem, from today, when everybody passes.
One benefit, though, for my being on campus rather than back home carousing with my non-college-bound high school buddies was the opportunity to hear learned disquisitions on events of the day from visiting lecturers, including, and here my memory may not be serving with how long it’s been, a U.S. undersecretary of something or other named George Ball. And indeed there’s a Ball-type authority on Vietnam in Silverman’s novel, one Andrew Hungerford, who comes to the campus of the novel, as Ball with me, to offer his perspective on the war, with the difference being that Ball came to be known for his strong opposition to the war – maybe that’s what makes me want to believe it was he I heard, with my even-then disaffection with the war – while Hungerford comes on both guns blazing, so to speak, in support of the war.
So strong a proponent is he, indeed, of the war, so sure of the rightness of the cause, that his appearance prompts a student takeover of the building where he’s appearing, which will end up making for a paradigm shift, if you will, for the scientist-protagonist of Silverman’s book, Keen, a lab researcher for a Nobel Prize winner whose synthesization work, though seemingly innocuous (anything smacking of scientific research in those days was suspect), is regularly drawing student protests.
Which at first excites Keen, to think that something he's involved with is so noteworthy as to warrant such attention, but in the course of the novel he will become radicalized, both because of something traumatic for him that happens during the protest as well as his involvement with a fellow activist named Olya, with whom he will eventually father a child, descriptively named Minnow, who will go on to become the novel's second protagonist and, like her father before her, experience a moment of great personal trauma during a protest 50 years later.
Not in the States, though, her demonstration, but a continent away in Paris, where she ends up after fleeing an incident back home where, albeit with considerable reluctance, she agreed to provide transportation for a distraught young woman seeking an abortion. Enough it was, though, just her being the chauffeur, to make for a welter of consequences, including a rift with her father, her being pursued by a relative of the young woman, torrents of unwanted publicity, and, in a couple of the novel’s strongest scenes for me, sessions with a college dean who is all the more off-putting for the seemingly sympathetic air he strikes in counseling her about what he characterizes as her “role” in the abortion (her “role,” she responds, was to drive a car).
Reminiscent it was for me, the indignity that she suffers at the hands of the dean, of the protagonist’s scenes with a dean in Philip Roth’s novel, “Indignation,” where the stakes for the protagonist, as he steams under the dean’s inquisition, are heightened by the prospect, if he’s expelled, of his having to go to Korea – just as in Silverman’s novel, Keen faces the prospect of having to go to Vietnam.
All of which may be giving away too much, particularly the revelation that Minnow is Keen’s daughter, which in the book is a while coming, but I wanted to supply enough detail to show why the book was so personally involving for me, enough so that it had me revisiting places in my past that I’d thought I’d left behind decades ago and made for this being more of a personal essay than a review proper. But that’s a mark of a good novel, it seems to me, that it has a reader relating it to his own experience, which certainly was true of me with this novel, which, as I’ve said, I enjoyed very much overall, with my one possible quibble being that I’d have liked to have seen more done with an artistic thread suggested by the striking cover image of an artist’s portrait of a nude woman posed on red drapery. The picture does in fact show up late in the novel, but only briefly and not to my mind as completely and thematically integrated as it might have been.

I am so thankful to Random House Books, Jen Silverman, and PRH Audio for the #freeaudiobook (#PRHPartner) and the digital access before this baby hits shelves on April 9, 2024.

There's Going to be Trouble tells the story of a father and daughter who both find themselves caught in violent riot scenarios, protesting two very different social issues during their youth -- the father falls in love with the mysterious Olya and her crew as they protest the Vietnam war in 1968, and contribute to those efforts. In the future, his daughter, Minerva or Minnow, falls for a French man named Charles as they speak out against the rising fuel taxes and discrimination in Paris in 2018.

The father is quite protective of his daughter, for he sees many of Olya, his forever life partner and radical counterpart in Minnow, and wants her to be safe. Still, after many back-and-forth blowouts. and flashbacks and forwards, our paternal character learns to accept his daughter for who she is and what she fights for. This is a story about individualism and forgiveness in so many ways, and I couldn't get enough.

I would like to thank NetGalley and Random House for providing me with an advance e-galley of this book in exchange for an honest review. Look for it in your local and online bookstores and libraries on April 9, 2024.

If you enjoy reading about the 60s, this one is for you. This story covers the complexities of interpersonal relationships between two protagonists. The book explores the ramifications of war, activism, and a passionate love affair. The book was incredibly thought-provoking and has me looking to read more of Jen Silverman's books.

Minnow is a quiet, abiding teacher in her small American community until she chooses to help a young student in a difficult situation. Once exposed, she’s vilified to the point of being forced to move to Paris. Her father, Keen, is devastated; he's tried so hard to raise her to fit in and go with the flow.
Once in Paris, Minnow discovers a new type of attitude in people her age. They’re protesting the government in louder and more elaborate ways. Minnow falls in love with Charles and supports him and his beliefs with all her heart. Little does she know that she’s mirroring the life of her father, a person she thinks she knows everything about.
Moving from past to present, we meet Minnow’s parents when they fall in love in college. Olya is everything Keen is not, and he loves her for it. But she, like present day Charles, has rebellion in her soul. As we watch Keen’s and Minnow’s mirrored lives scream forward to what can’t be a peaceful future, the parallels prove that blood, unwittingly, is thicker than water. Told from a neutral viewpoint, this story held my attention to the very last foreboding paragraph with vivid characters and plot.
Thanks so much to Random House Publishing Group- Random House for an ARC in exchange for my honest review. The publishing date is April 9, 2024.

I loved Jen Silverman's first novel We Play Ourselves and I've enjoyed Silverman's plays in the past (most recently, Highway Patrol at Goodman Theatre) so I was excited to receive an ARC of their second novel! Silverman writes lovely prose, and this was nicely paced, but I wasn't that taken with the story. The novel has dual timelines: In 2018, Silverman introduces us to Minerva "Minnow" Hunter, who's newly arrived in Paris to teach at a university after leaving a job at a prep school back in the United States following a scandalous incident. Once in Paris, she's drawn to Charles, a much younger assistant professor at the university and also a radical. In 1968, we meet Keen, a graduate student in organic chemistry at Harvard University who becomes enamored with Olya, a Russian immigrant and outspoken protestor. Minnow and Keen are interconnected, and it wasn't hard to figure out how. There's Going to Be Trouble was relatively well-paced, though towards the end I found myself skimming some passages. Silverman has a nice flair for social commentary in some particular turns of phrase. But while the book sets up the premise that often times protest and social action doesn't lead to change, I also thought it leaned morally in favor of the protestors...despite the fact that their attempts might not be so productive. Thus, the morality of the novel felt a little neat and tidy. I also didn't really care much for the characters; I admired Minnow for the way in which she helped a student at the prep school, but she's also a frustrating and aimless character who's oddly dependent on her father. Overall, I was not nearly as taken with There's Going to Be Trouble as with We Play Ourselves so I still wholeheartedly recommend the latter to readers!

In this dual timeline story, two nonpolitical individuals find themselves drawn to radicals. In 2018, Minnow, in an effort to help a young student, unwittingly becomes the face in a political nightmare. She flees to a new teaching position in Paris where she becomes involved with another, much younger, teacher, one who is involved with the Gilets Jeune (yellow vest) grassroots movement against Macron’s government. Meanwhile, in 1968, Keen is a graduate student in chemistry at Harvard. He falls in love with Olya, a young agitator who spends her days protesting the Vietnam War.
I found both stories to be absorbing and all the characters fully fleshed out. Silverman uses dialog between the various characters to raise interesting points. It wasn’t that I agreed with the idea of violence, but on the flip side it’s obvious talk doesn't always lead to results. I appreciated that the present day political situation was one I wasn’t well aware of. The story is a reminder that not everyone’s motives are purely political when they get involved with radical movements. And that we can never foresee the impact of our decisions and actions. And while it made sense that the younger characters weren’t mature enough to have these realizations, I did fault Minnow for being so obtuse.
Silverman does a good job of painting a scene, especially the protests, and putting you smack dab in the middle of them.
I found the ending to be somewhat dissatisfying and abrupt, but at the same time, a tidy ending wouldn’t work for this book.
My thanks to Netgalley and Random House for an advance copy of this book.

3.5 rounded up. I'm a fan of her first book, so was excited to get the arc for this one. There were definitely some themes that carried over from We Play Ourselves, which I didn't mind. My biggest note is that the bulk of this book felt like setup. I felt like i was getting to know the two different characters in the different time periods, but the meatier plot didn't unfold until 2/3 of the way in. Regarding the two main characters, I also wish it was called out earlier what was so obvious about their connection. It felt like it was trying to be a misdirect, but fell a bit flat. Once I got to that last third it really came alive, though, and I found myself engaged in the story and their respective plights.

I loved this dual-narrative historical novel about what it is to be a person during at time of riots and social change, comparing the lives of a father and a daughter. The scenes were beautifully written, and even the scenes without riots felt like they held an tense violence, a possibility of upset. I'll be thinking about this novel for a long time, and about the ways that bystanders become part of history, and history becomes inextricably linked with those who couldn't choose to be bystanders.

Thanks NetGalley and and Random House for the ARC.

French men just hit differently, they're automatically sexy and alluring. I can see why the main character gets sucked into his family and their political commentary.

This book takes place in two different eras - Vietnam and the protests in France in 2018 against Macron - the yellow vest protests.

I chose this book for the cover and went in blind, and I'm glad I did. I did skim some areas of the book that dragged on for me, but I did enjoy the main character and how you really don't like her in the long run.

This book was overall enjoyable. I think the relationships were very well written and I enjoyed the parallels between the storylines. Jen Silvermans novel "We Play Ourselves" is one of my all time favorite books and although this didn't quite live up to it I will continue to read everything they write!

Described as “An exhilarating novel of star-crossed romances and radical politics, with writing so evocative I swear I could smell the tear gas.” and told in dual timelines.

Minnow is a literature professor who has lived a quiet normal life raise by her single dad. One day she finds herself helping a student when said student comes to her with no other place to turn. What happens next takes her life out of control, protests, death treats, all semblance of privacy stops, and so she flees to Paris to start fresh. Things don't go as planned and she gets herself involved with a fellow professor Charles who is deep into activism, and protest against a powerful government. Minnow's life begins to mirror her father's, from over 40 years ago in the midst of the Vietnam War.


This book is very far out of my comfort zone, but I really enjoyed it. It had a few aspects that I really love, a dual timeline, politics, and romance that came together in a very interesting way. The themes explored, were very thought provoking, and so well navigated. The power of speaking up and protesting. How quickly the intention of doing good and keeping things peaceful, can spiral into something you can't undo. How love leads you in directions you didn't expect. The way the author had both timelines mirror the other but still have each story be so compelling yet tie into the other was magical. So many poignet ideas were presented through conversations between characters that have really left me thinking. The characters were all so flawed but so dynamic, even the secondary characters. The ending was left very open which is why it was not a full 5 star book for me. But over all this was a very powerful and beautiful book.

this was a pretty solid fictional dissertation on the personal being political! i liked it! would recommend to others.

Jen is a talented writer and generally speaking, I enjoyed this book a lot – just perhaps not as much as her last one, We Play Ourselves. Here, in dueling timelines, Minnow and Keen find their idealism tested by the cruel, compromising reality of their respective times, and wrestle with the degree each are willing to toe (or condone their peers for stepping over) the boundaries of acceptable behavior (morally, criminally, etc.) in service of revolutionary progressive change.

It's a heady book of social commentary and ideas, and quite melancholy. There's a sense of exhaustion that the same fights keep needing to be fought. Or that integrity is punished or naive. I think Jen should be commended for her ambition in telling this story. It's just maybe not as... fun (?) as her debut novel. And our world is in sort of a sad state! Hard to enthusiastically embrace the reality of incremental change when revolutionary change feels fantastically achievable. Guess that's what this book is about ultimately.

Sophisticated and moving. I didn’t want it to end.
Many thanks to Random House and to NetGalley for providing me with a galley in exchange for my honest opinion.

I went into this novel without any context but I loved the title. It delivered on that promise… but it took a while for me to feel invested in any of it. I didn’t care about the characters until far too late in the book, and the end (which was the best part) was far too rushed.

This was a good look at the motivations behind social protests and political influence on major issues in modern and recent history. It also included beautiful writing. But alas, this book was not for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an early arc!

I think my concluding feelings in relation to this book is a mix of "not for me" and craft issues
The first half is pretty slow, and I almost DNF'ed it multiple times. Thankfully the second half is better, with a POV from a more interesting character (imo). None of the characters in this are particularly likable to be honest, which doesn't make for a bad book, but that combined with bad pacing? It makes it difficult for me to stay engaged with a text.

I don't know why I decided to read this book, but it was not something I cared for.

The story takes place with mostly protest situations such as the war in Vietnam. I lived those protest days trying to go to college and I don't remember them as days that I'd care to relive. I read to be entertained and did not find this entertaining, as it was not meant to be, I'm sure.

It seems there are 2 stories happening involving different people and it is tied together at the end, though I never thought I'd read all that way. After I picked it up to read it, I put it down and read 2 full other books before I was able to finish this. It just wasn't something that I was interested in and so it felt too long.

Thank you NetGalley for an advance reader copy. Honest opinions expressed here are my own and are freely given.

For me, this book is a 2.75 out of 5. It is a multilinear story, switching back and forth between 1969 & 2018, following the story of a daughter (2018) and her father as a young man (1969). It is about political turbulence, allowing the hard feelings to be felt, being honest with oneself, and finding meaning in the bigger picture. Silverman has a wonderful understanding of life's core truth’s, and is able to eloquently put them into words. The bones of this story are so good, however, I think the execution was extremely lacking. The first 50% of this book was incredibly forgettable and quite frankly, wasteful. All of the main characters weren’t loathsome, but not exactly likable either. The second half of the book I felt things picked up. I was able to become more attached to the story, and I felt a plot really start to develop. However, just as quickly as it had picked up, it slowed down. The book ended incredibly abruptly and left MANY loose ends. I’m typically all for an abrupt ending, as that is so often how our real stories tend to end, however, I can’t help but feel certain details and plot ideas were introduced just to keep the reader entertained. There was SO MUCH good material in this novel, and I feel like the author did a disservice to this wonderful story by watering it down so heavily. There are so many things I’d like to have read more about- Charles’ father’s and how he knew about Luc, and consequently, was Luc’s story truthful? The relationship between Minnow and her father, Minnow’s own feelings after the riot, and how she felt about speaking with her mother. There was a lot given, however, a lot that felt unnecessary, especially because the story was left with so many loose ends irrelevant to the story itself.

Overall, the book felt a bit unorganized. Creative idea, unfortunate execution. It wasn’t grueling to finish, but I’m not particularly inclined to read anything else by this author.