Books are not read in a vacuum. Therefore, your engagement and enjoyment of one is affected by your mood, daily life, and experiences. This book came right after I read another about a hapless, immature young man, and honestly I just couldn't take any more. I applaud the courage of the author to give us a character front and center that would be difficult to like on the surface, but one we end up rooting for.

Published by ‎ Henry Holt and Co. by October 8, 2024

Domestic comedies appeal to me more than domestic dramas, if only because I would rather smile than cringe. The Book of George is an appealing blend of comedy and drama, although the emphasis is clearly on comedy.

As the title implies, the book follows a man named George. The story starts when George is 12 and ends when he’s 38. In George, Kate Greathead created a harmless and hapless character, one who is sullen, inconsiderate, and self-indulgent, an ideal protagonist for a domestic comedy. He isn’t as outrageous as Ignatius J. Reilly, but he shares some of that iconic character’s laziness, indifference to appearance, and ill-timed farting.

Like Ignatius, George lives at home with his mother, although only for parts of the story. George’s mother Ellen kicked his father Denis out of their Manhattan home when George was fourteen (Denis was dipping into Ellen’s trust fund to feed his shopping addiction). George does not see him often because, like most things, paternal visits feed the anxiety and depression that will characterize George’s life.

George attends college in Connecticut. He writes poems in a half-hearted effort to find an identity, but (despite having one published in a campus literary journal) abandons writing after concluding that’s he’s aping the style of David Berman. At a party to celebrate his poem’s publication, he realizes that “his own cohort’s lack of a group identity suddenly seemed pathetic. What did George and his friends have in common beyond being lumped together in the same dorm when they were eighteen?”

Random chance can produce friendships as strong as any other, but it doesn’t occur to George that he would need to develop a passion for something and join with people who share that passion if he wants to share a group identity. George’s search for an identity, as an individual or part of a cohort, becomes the novel’s continuing theme.

When a mysterious mass moves over his head one night, George views it as a celestial sign and decides to major in philosophy. He’s drawn to Schopenhauer, whose mother regarded him as “irritating and unbearable” despite his good heart. George is much the same. Perhaps for that reason, he believes that Schopenhauer wasn’t the “deeply cynical pessimist” that history has judged him to be. George recognizes his own cynical pessimism and sometimes makes an effort to change, but he also feels a need to be true to himself, even if his self isn’t someone he likes.

Having a degree in philosophy qualifies George to get a job as a waiter. He isn’t competent but he meets a waitress named Jenny who plans to attend law school. While they are dating, George begins working for his uncle in the financial industry, a brief career that gives George further opportunity to sit in judgment of the rest of the human race. The other traders focus on getting rich during the week and partying on weekends. George concludes (perhaps wisely) that they are not his people, but what group of people would claim Geoge as one of their own?

George maintains and on-and-off relationship with Jenny for more than a decade after college. More than once they break up and reunite. George’s inability to commit remains a barrier to a lasting relationship. In Jenny’s view, George’s greatest character flaw is “his absentminded disregard for others, his resistance to doing anything that posed the slightest inconvenience to him.”

When she eviscerates George’s character, Jenny hopes he will defend himself, but he tells her she’s right and that she deserves better. That George won’t stand up for himself makes him even less appealing to women, a fact that will be apparent to the reader even if George remains indifferent to how others perceive him.

The turning point in their relationship occurs when George and Jenny go on a road trip. They spend some unplanned weeks with a fellow named Dizart who lived with George’s parents for a time during his childhood and may have been having an affair with his mother. Dizart encourages George to take up writing. When George heeds his advice, the reader wonders whether he has finally found a passion that will motivate him to get out of bed (as opposed to antidepressants that don’t change his mood but rob him of erections).

George believes Jenny takes his depression personally, but there are many other aspects of George’s personality that trouble Jenny. She scolds him for poking holes in people rather than building them up. “It makes you feel better about yourself,” she tells him. “George couldn’t dispute this. He did not want to be such a person.” Yet change doesn’t come easily. It isn’t clear whether George will be a better person by the novel’s end.

None of this seems funny, but Greathead finds humor in George’s droll reactions to the world he inhabits. He attends a pre-wedding celebration and considers “this idiotic aspect of American culture: the aggressively self-celebratory nature of marking ordinary milestones as if they were some kind of hard-won victory or unique life accomplishment.” He returns to live with his mother, where he is soon joined by a pregnant sister who can’t handle her husband’s presence in her home. Asked to watch over a woman’s baby for a short time, George finds after a trip to the hospital that he is ill-equipped for parenting.

George stumbles through life, finding and quitting jobs but never finding one he likes. His best moment comes when he is cast in a Superbowl commercial that takes advantage of his grumpy face. If failed relationships and family deaths are excluded, his worst moment comes when he is bombarded with judgmental emails from strangers who mistake him for his namesake uncle, an English professor who lost his job due to relatively minor incidents of sexual harassment. Judging and condemning strangers is a widespread hobby in the age of the internet.

The novel ends as postmodern domestic novels do, abandoning their characters mid-life without resolving their issues. The novel’s interest lies in its characterization of George of a man without direction who suffers from deficient introspection. Notwithstanding George’s degree in philosophy, he seems uninterested in examining his life and finding ways to change. He has a fairly easy life but can’t appreciate his good fortune. He doesn’t realize that women regard him as handsome, that he might be able to exploit the acting gig he lucked into, or that he has benefitted from at least modest privilege associated with white New Yorkers who get carried through life by friends and family members.

Making fun of people might be mean, but readers can take a guilty pleasure in laughing at George as he drifts from one circumstance to another. George might be right when he says that he doesn’t deserve Jenny, a woman who is light years more advanced in the art of social interaction. Yet George is far from evil. Like Schopenhauer, he has a kind heart even if his attitude is insufferable. When George commits an unexpected act of kindness near the novel’s end, it does not signal a change but a moment in which George reveals a part of himself that he usually conceals. George’s character traits make him an interesting and sympathetic person, one whose life is worth a visit by readers who are looking for a chuckle.

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"The Book of George" attempts to explore deep themes of identity and self-discovery but ultimately falls short. While the premise has potential, the execution feels lackluster, with a meandering plot that often loses focus. The characters, particularly the protagonist, lack sufficient depth, making it hard to connect with their struggles. The pacing is uneven, and many scenes feel drawn out, failing to hold the reader's attention. The writing is occasionally engaging, but the overall narrative feels disjointed and underdeveloped. While the book has moments of insight, it doesn’t fully deliver on its promise, leaving much to be desired.

While I did like this book a lot, I didn't really see the revelatory qualities in it that so many reviewers and readers are touting. I thought it was incredibly well written, seeing as such a hopeless and annoying main character would normally become utterly intolerable after just a few chapters. Greathead absolutely conquered something there. But it also spoke to the uselessness of so many men in this world these days, and how they're only as strong as the incredible women who inexplicably stand beside them.

The book about millennial masculinity that we never thought we actually wanted. The Book of George is witty and insightful--it is one that I kept thinking about when I wasn't reading it.

The Book of George by Kate Greathead is absolutely focused on the life of a guy called George, but the most interesting character was George’s mother. Or more specifically, the bit that had me intrigued, was George’s relationship with his mother, Ellen – fraught, inadequate, over-bearing, intense… you could throw any number of words at it, and they’d probably fit.

The story begins with George as a young boy –

George struggled to grasp the nuances of his mother’s contempt, but it was the beginning of his awareness of a problem in his parents’ marriage that had to do with his father’s love of expensive clothes.

And then –

By the time he and Cressida were teenagers, Ellen seemed to view them as fully formed people who were going to do what they were going to do. She supported their endeavors and applauded their successes, but their accomplishments were not a particular source of pride for her. Nor was she inclined to interpret their struggles as a referendum on her mothering.

George is spectacularly self-centred, lacks any self-awareness and drifts through life completely blind to his privilege.

George knew he shouldn’t be surprised – in the middle of tenth grade he’d pretty much stopped doing homework – but still, it felt like a slight when he wasn’t accepted to a single Ivy.

I realise that I may have made this book sound unappealing – not my intention! Greathead has a dry sense of humour and all of George’s exploits are told with satirical edge.On his decision to major in philosophy at university –

George’s initial enthusiasm for Kierkegaard and Nietzsche was complicated by their popularity.

One scene, when George volunteers for a day at a primary school (and gets the ‘uncooperative child’, who really is just a kid wise to George’s bullshit), will stay with me – it was so damn funny, and George’s reflections on horses is hilariously revealing.

“Because I always get the bad horse. The difficult horse. There’s always one horse in the stable that’s trouble, and that’s the one they put me on. And some guy who works there is always like, ‘Oh, you got Aspen? Watch out!'”
Iris had been avoiding eye contact, but now she looked at George in a curious, scrutinizing way. “You just have to keep trying,” she said.
… “It’s the horse,” George repeated. “I always get the difficult one.” George was usually popular with kids. He felt like Iris had gotten a dud.

It ends with George coaxing the kid to climb onto his shoulders and touch the roof without the teacher seeing. And this is the thing about George – he’s an absolute pill but he’s sometimes fun and kind and impulsive in a way that people occasionally like, and that’s what keeps people in his life (particularly long-suffering girlfriend, Jenny).

This book is being described as a ‘…moving portrait of millennial masculinity’. Well, I hope it’s not a representation of millennial masculinity because goodness, nothing will get done… unless the world is filled with Jennys.

I received my copy of The Book of George from the publisher, Henry Holt & Company, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

3/5

This book was almost...painfully enjoyable? The subject of men is not something I am usually particularly interested in, but I was very drawn in by the blurb. And Kate Greathead did a fantastic job delivering on the intrigue of this one. I thought George was the absolute worst and had no redeeming qualities. I have a hard time being empathetic towards subpar men who are inconsiderate and lazy. However, Greathead's portrayal was insightful and authentic. Justice for Jenny!

I really enjoyed this book -- I loved following George through the years and different aspects of his life. I loved the scope of this book, and getting to know George so thoroughly. Despite wanting to shake him many times, I found him very endearing.

George and I are almost the same age, so it was fun to read him experience things around the same age that I did.

I will definitely check out what Kate Greathead writes next!

Thank you to NetGalley for the advanced copy of this book!

Kate Greathead’s The Book of George follows two decades in the life of George, a man whose endless potential is matched only by his knack for falling short. Through his relationships — with Jenny, his endlessly patient girlfriend, and his mother, who offers support despite her exasperation — George’s story unfolds with moments of wit and unexpected depth. Caught between self-awareness and self-sabotage, George’s journey offers a glimpse into the messiness of human connection and the challenge of living up to one’s own expectations.

I think the important thing isn’t that George is a man or that you might know a George. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Maybe *you* are a George, or maybe you’ll meet a George someday. Actually, I think this might be a misstep in the publisher’s summary of the book — the point isn’t about whether you know a George. The point is to see George as a person navigating our society…and examine society through that familiar and hopefully sympathetic but critical lens.

It’s about the expectations we place on ourselves around success — what it looks like, how it’s measured — and the idea of happiness, and whether it aligns with those expectations. Throughout the book, we see these little pockets of community that shape George’s journey: his family, his college buddies, his girlfriend, and then his family again. George is goofy but tender. The potential that he’s meant to have, is it something he genuinely sees brimming within himself, or is it the idea that’s placed there from others and societal expectations? Sure, he’s bumbling. Sure, he’s a little helpless. But he’s also earnest, caring, and tries so hard to figure things out, constantly self-analyzing. Isn’t that what we’re all doing, in some way?

The Book of George was quietly sharp, with funny moments generously peppered throughout and beautifully bridges the gap between lighter fare and heavier themes. It’s a story that lingers, and I found myself reflecting on the people we are and the people we might become — at any time in our lives.

The Book of George by Kate Greathead* is a train wreck you can't look away from. George is a grown man who can't quite get his life together. He's funny, he's endearing, he's enraging, he's hard to be around. Many of us know a George in real life and this novel dug deep into how a person can turn out this way. I couldn't put it down! It felt a little Katherine Heiny mixed with Dolly Alderton's Good Material.

Oh George... What a dysfunctional, flawed, commitment-phobe, frustrating character you are! This story is charming and whimsical, told from a very unique male perspective and while I wouldn't want to date George, I was quite taken by his story. Literary fiction lovers who enjoy coming of age stories should give this a read; I'd love to read more books by this author.

Thank you to NetGalley and Henry Holt & Company for this ARC.

I am so thankful to Henry Holt Books, Kate Greathead, and Netgalley for granting me advanced access to this galley before publication day. I really enjoyed the dialogue and plot of this book and can’t wait to chat this one up with my friends!

I loved this book and was enthralled with the writing. I loved the character study. Would read more from the author!

A relatable read for millennials out there who are still searching for the one… if you haven’t had the “pleasure” of dating a George, then certainly one of your friends has. This book perfectly captures the millennial struggle of dating and all the other real-life struggles. Highly recommend for some LOL and relatable moments!!

Everyone knows a George: smart and filled with potential, but non committal and only in his own way.

This is a quiet, real life-like story that follows one man from the age 12 to late thirties. I loved this book because while fiction, it felt so real. It’s really just about life, as George encompasses what it’s like to live as a white male in NYC in modern times. George is smart and funny, but lacks focus and drive. George is a mix of Toby Fleishman and Holden Caulfield.

“I guess that’s part of growing up. Coming to terms with your mediocrity.”

The Book of George comes out 10/8.

The Book of George is a whole book about George, a pretty unlikable man-child, who seems stuck in place waiting for the world to discover his amazing potential.
He's a crappy son, a crappier boyfriend, and an underperforming member of society. Rinse and repeat.
Thanks to #netgalley and #henryholtandcompany for this #arc of #thebookofgeorge in exchange for an honest review.

An interesting and thought provoking read, even if I’m not sure I fully agreed with the message.

First, this is a much more dynamic and well-paced book than I expected, and despite it being a fictional monograph of sorts, it is strangely enthralling. Greathead’s writing is lovely and the characters are both substantive and compelling.

The initial impression you get of George is that you like him. He is, in his heart of hearts, a capital G Good Guy. And as you sit wondering what all the angst is about (both his and that of those around him on his behalf), the other shoe drops.

George is nice enough, smart enough, caring enough, but he’s also consistently apathetic and not especially ambitious. It’s enough to drive a driven gal batty, and while I agree with that sentiment, it’s also where the book lost me a bit.

There isn’t enough space in the world for a planet 100% populated by deeply ambitious, incredibly engaged people. And while if that’s important to you, a George is not going to be your person, I’m not sure it’s the cultural poison pill that it’s presented to be here. It didn’t help that Jenny is exactly the Pollyanna she fears she is, which makes George, flaws and all, a more likable character.

To that end, the author isn’t disputing that George is a nice guy or that he’s likable. She’s arguing that his apathy and unrealized potential is a problem, and one that frequently shows up in men.

I’m not disagreeing with that, though again I would counter that there is a place in the world for a Joe Average, or a George Average if you will, and just because many women (myself included) would ultimately declare his not enoughness to be simply not enough, it’s not necessarily appropriate as a universal condemnation, and it’s hard to make the argument when his female partner is the one who would actually make me run screaming.

This had moments of funny but overall was just meh for me. It just wasn't my jam which was probably a me problem.

I liked this! I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite like it but I loved reading something original. I don’t know how I will describe it when recommending it but I definitely will be recommending this book.

This was a unique and delightful read. The portrayal of the low-achieving modern man was so familiar and relatable, yet I’d never before seen it tackled in a novel. The author captured it perfectly, and I loved seeing George’s “evolution” over the course of so many years. This was incredibly readable, funny, and poignant, and I have continued to think about it long after finishing.