This was my first novel by Sarah Manguso, which I requested on NetGalley after a friend recommended her debut, Very Cold People. The description—two artists in a marriage grappling with emotional difficulties—along with the intriguing title, really drew me in.

But the actual reading experience was disappointing. The book felt like a long list of complaints from a woman about her husband and her marriage. At first, I was morbidly curious, almost like watching an accident, trying to understand how these two people came together and what was keeping them tied to each other despite the lack of affection, love, or even basic respect. But after a while, it became repetitive and exhausting.

I struggled with both the writing style and the structure. The story didn’t unfold in a compelling way, and it didn’t offer the nuanced portrait of marriage I was expecting. Instead, it presented a relationship that seemed broken from the start—constant conflict, no tenderness, no redemption.

What really shifted my understanding of the book, though, was hearing Manguso on a podcast. She described traditional heteronormative marriage as a dynamic "between a husband and an abused victim." When the host gently pushed back, noting that while this may apply to the couple in the novel, it doesn’t represent all marriages, Manguso didn’t acknowledge the distinction.

That interview clarified a lot. If this book is meant as a reflection of Manguso’s broader view of marriage—as inherently abusive or oppressive—it explains why the relationship in the novel felt so hopeless and one-dimensional. But it also left me deeply unsettled. I’m not opposed to critical explorations of marriage, but to frame it entirely as an abusive institution, and then use that as the foundation for a bleak, baffling story, just didn’t work for me.

I wouldn’t recommend this book—unless you’re specifically interested in examining a deeply cynical, anti-marriage perspective. For me, it was not only unenjoyable but frustrating and, frankly, offensive in how reductive its view of relationships felt. No one has to get married—but if you're going to write about it, there should be space for complexity, not just condemnation.

Soooooo good. I finished this and immediately moved it to a more prominent location in our store so I could press it into more readers’ hands. So smart, so insightful, and made me think and feel in such a unique way. Bravo!

Perfectly depicted maternal and feminine rage on the page. I found myself thinking "just leave him already" at the beginning, and yet I think most hetero women would find this book deeply relatable, even if the circumstances of your particular relationship are mostly happy.

It starts with a simple premise and unspools into something much more intricate. Without relying on gimmicks, it manages to be both engaging and thought-provoking. You don’t just read it—you sit with it.

Unfortunately I was unable to download this book before the archive date, so I'm not able to leave a review. I look forward to reading and reviewing books by this author in the future.

I was quite taken by this book—the complexity of the character work was so well-done that I found myself underlining in the text, something I rarely do on Kindle! I also typically struggle with (mostly) unnamed protagonists, but felt it really worked here for the themes of self-deception and self-awareness. The author is very skilled at writing self-deception, which can be extremely tricky to do well. I found the pacing a bit slow at first, but after a longer reading session one day the building tension, character and plot really began to come together for me, and I've been thinking about the book since I finished. I will be returning to LIARS for a reread for sure!

Have you listened to "Labour" by Paris Paloma? Liars is the book version of that song. Jane and John get together with the agreement of putting their artistic careers as priorities. Jane was sure from an early age that she didn't want to get married, but everything changed when she met John. Soon after they get engaged and move in together, she becomes a housewife that puts aside her writing career to support John on his career that never seems to take off. She keeps house and acts like her personal assistant, even borrowing him money for his failed business endeavours and despite all this, she manages to write successful books and winning fellowships. John is infuriating, a textbook manchild, he lies, manipulates and belittles Jane repeatedly, barely appreciating everything she does for him. With all this, Jane gets pregnant and this is where I wanted to slap and hug Jane at the same time. Girl, what are you doing??? But listen, I've been there. I know what it is to be so in love that you put yourself and your dreams aside to support your partner. You think is an act of love but it's lowkey manipulation. And it's hard to get out of there. It's like a drug you are addicted to. And when you realize it, you grieve. Because you gave absolutely everything you had to give, and somehow it wasn't enough. I loved this book so much, it's a portrayal of emotional abuse that it's not talked enough of and makes it hard to recognize until you're deep into it. It's an important book, and as a reminder, don't ever abandon yourself for a man. If you already did, it's not too late to pick yourself up. You'll be alright.

This novel delves into the struggles of a woman caught in a suffocating, one-sided marriage, but it falls short in delivering its intended exploration of contradictory emotions within a relationship. The protagonist's internal conflict—claiming deep love for her husband while enduring his selfishness—never quite resonates, as the narrative relies too heavily on repetitive outbursts and vague references to emotional breakdowns. Though the book is undeniably engaging and easy to get through in one sitting, it ultimately leaves you searching for a deeper meaning or resolution that it never quite reaches.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC which I read in exchange for my honest review.

Masterfully murky meditation on marriage, identity, and the truths we tell ourselves. Creeping and insidious. Recommended!

It took me a bit to get used to the writing style in this book, but once I did it was really captivating and hard to put down. This book was also eerily similar to the movie Nightbitch, which I loved. Both the movie and this book fell apart a little at the end for me, but the book ended more in a way that I wish the movie had. I know the emotions around marriages are complicated but I didn't love how defeated Jane was when her husband left her when it felt like she had been contemplating leaving him for their entire relationship. I wish it had been more freeing for her.

This novel, while pretty well written, was just too relentless and sometimes over the top. I DNF’d around 3/4 of the way through because I got bored and couldn’t take it anymore.

Sharp, fast-paced, and deliciously infuriating. This book made me question marriage + the reliability of an autofiction narrator. The kind of book you want to talk about at dinner with friends + don't lend out for fear it won't end up back on your bookshelf.

I had a love/hate relationship with this book. There were moments where I really connected with the story and the way she and her husband interacted. Then there were the moments where she talked about her child in this almost detached way that made me not want to keep reading. I ultimately kept reading because I wanted to see what happened next and did feel slightly invested in the outcome but I am torn on if I would recommend this to anyone based on the writing style that just wasn’t a huge seller for me.

Thank you to Netgalley and the Publishing Company for this Advanced Readers Copy of Liars by Sarah Manguso!

I don’t know how to review this book without spoiling general contours of the plot. So if you’re totally averse to spoilers, I will say that LIARS features great, propulsive, furious writing in a book that ultimately failed to persuade me of the core dynamic it was attempting to depict.

LIARS is a book about Jane, a writer who falls in love with John, a fellow creative. After they marry and have a child, their relationship unravels under the pressures of childcare, John’s professional challenges, and his jealousy over Jane’s successes.

First, the positive: I could not put this book down and read it in two days. It’s angry and propulsive and I had to keep following the relationship—like rubbernecking at a car crash. I really appreciated Manguso’s writing in ONGOINGNESS, and it continued to work for me here. She captures the beauty and minutiae and intermittent rage of parenting so well. And I loved the exploration of the compatibility of motherhood and an artistic life.

Less positive: The best way I can put this is that the book reads like a first draft of the depiction of the marriage. That’s not because it’s unpolished or lacking structurally but because the entire book is so angry and so unforgiving toward the husband character that the unraveling of the relationship feels preordained. From the beginning the book feels like it was written in the raw aftermath of a messy divorce, though I believe we are supposed to be experiencing the relationship alongside Jane. John has no redeeming qualities—and not only can the reader tell that from the outset but it seems like Jane knows it too. In theory she’s “lying” to herself about him—hence the title—but the occasional moments of expressed gratitude feel tacked on and inauthentic given the overwhelming fury she otherwise expresses. Instead of following Jane’s emotional arc to her final realization about John’s true nature, the book starts with her at the emotional endpoint.

i love a good story about the trials of motherhood. this one felt a bit circular at times with the messaging. yes the patriarchy is this looming presence that invades heterosexual romantic relationships, but women do have agency in this day and age and i don’t see why these types of books can’t showcase it more and instead focus on remaining in this limbo state in a relationship with a terrible man that you know is terrible and won’t change. i think the message can get across while acknowledging that at some point the woman is making a conscious decision to stay in this terrible relationship for whatever reason and it’s not just the patriarchy.

i still enjoyed it, but that’s my one gripe.

I didnt get a chance to read and review this book before it’s publish date. However now that I have a read it I gave it 3 stars

If you're looking for an outlet for your female rage, look no further! This exploration of a toxic marriage will make your blood boil, and while it kept me turning the pages, it also left me wanting more. It's clear from early on that John is a walking red flag with no redeeming qualities that it's hard to understand why Jane is with him. I swung between cheering for Jane and wanting to shake her but it kept my interest which I guess is the point.

3.5 rounded up

Thanks to Random House for the copy to review.

🌶️ HOT TAKE: A gut-punch of a novel that’s as gripping as it is infuriating, Liars masterfully examines the cost of ambition, love, and compromise in a marriage dominated by power imbalance.

🧶 THE SUMMARY:
Jane, a young and promising writer, falls in love with John, an older and celebrated filmmaker. Their marriage begins with dreams of mutual success, but John’s artistic ambitions and relentless ego quickly take center stage. As Jane sacrifices her own career to support his, their relationship crumbles under the weight of neglect, resentment, and financial strain. For years, Jane tolerates the imbalance—until she reaches a breaking point that forces her to confront the life she has built with John.

💁🏻‍♀️ MY THOUGHTS:
🔸 This was one of those books you can’t look away from—equal parts fascinating and frustrating. Jane’s life is bleak in ways that feel almost unbearable to read at times, but you can’t help rooting for her, even though I felt she might never come to her senses. Watching her navigate John’s manipulative behavior while still clinging to her own identity felt so raw and real, particularly when she becomes a mother.

🔸 John’s character is the epitome of a midlife crisis wrapped in unchecked narcissism. His complete disregard for Jane’s well-being—both emotionally and financially—had me fuming. The author doesn’t shy away from making his flaws glaringly obvious, almost daring you to hate him.

🔸 Having read Manguso’s memoir Cold People last year, I found myself searching for connections between the two works. It’s fascinating to see how she channels her own truths and observations into her fiction, layering the story with subtle echoes of what I assume is personal, if not her own, experience.

Thank you to NetGalley and Hogarth Books for the ARC, provided in exchange for an honest review.

Thank you NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group - Random House for sending this book for review consideration. All opinions are my own.

This book took me a loooooooooong time to read - primarily because I could feel my stress levels and blood pressure rising after each chapter. It's definitely a well-written book -- to be able to create such feelings of stress and intense anger at characters requires strong writing and talent. So while I admire the skill of the author in writing this story and have zero doubt this plays out thousands of times a year, it wasn't necessarily the most enjoyable read. I wish a little more time had been spent on the protagonist figuring out how to protect her own artistic vision and career. At times the husband seemed almost comically awful, but I know this just highlights how difficult it can be to accurately evaluate your own situation when you are living it.