This book weaves together several voices across time, not missing a single family member in its movement through plot and conflict. I loved the "Interlude" and thought the book got much stronger as the second half progressed. Each glance, emotion, and object are thoroughly described, and decision is presented to be both informed and haunted by the past. The patriarch of the family, Gregor, comes in and out in waves, which I appreciated--his voice doesn't emerge only in the beginning or end, or only in one time period.

I loved the character of Hova, and accompanying her on her big walk across the bridge was one of my favorite parts of the book; I loved her independence. I also appreciated the physical grounding in the setting of this book, the highways, lakes, and formations of Michigan, and the inner workings of the little island not many go to or know about (or can point to on the 'hand', as the author describes). I do feel there were many plot points that did not get entirely tied up (an affair, an unplanned 'event'), like some others (the final scene in the basement and the ripples it had throughout the family, especially Karo). I also wish there were more than just the obvious linkages to the past and to the patriarch's stories (mountains, water, ships, etc.). How does trauma around the Genocide emerge in present traumas that are not just incidental to being human?

With “Waterline,” Aram Mrojian has written a novel about how the Armenian genocide affected the Kurkjian family for generations. The genocide, however, doesn’t explain why Mari Kurkjian has committed suicide, a fact that has sent her family reeling.

The great-grandfather, Gregor, has two sons, Karo, married to Hova, whose daughter decided to end her life, and Edgar, currently having an affair, married to Hannah. Hannah is pre-occupied with her workout routine and waiting for the right moment to tell her husband she knows he’s being unfaithful.

Hannah’s fraternal twins, teen-aged Talin and Joseph, are totally unsupervised by their distracted parents during the summer of Mari’s suicide and Talin starts bicycling every day on the island to see her friend Zack. At the time her brother Joseph becomes concerned about her relationship with Zack, Talin has already asked her older sister, Ani, to come home because she needs her.

The women seem to do no cooking in this novel; when the husbands grill out, the women make side dishes. The refrigerator is as empty as the wives’ lives.

The author seems to suggest that women moving away from the family put themselves at risk, that the only safety lies in remaining within the family circle, but even that safety is threatened when the mothers refuse to confront what is in front of their eyes.

Thank you to HarperVia and NetGalley for an advance copy of this book.

Armenian genocide is such a tough subject to read about by the author handles this tough subject with such grace and respect. We follow a family whose patriarch is a survivor of genocide and we follow the rippling effects it has. This family is close knit and their lives become upended when tragic strikes. I would check the trigger warnings before you read because it does cover intense themes that can be very heavy at times. With that being said, this book was so beautiful in its prose and character work. I thoroughly enjoyed my time reading this and I would recommend it to anyone looking to diversify their reading!

This was a great read! It was informative, had the topics and themes of grief, gentrification, moving on, sacrifice, and more. It was deeply moving, had a lot of emotions, and was written very well!! I really liked the characters, and how well they were developed too!!

Thank you to NetGalley, to the author, and to the publisher for this complementary ARC in exchange for my honest review!!!

I will start with what I liked about the book. I enjoyed learning more about the Armenian genocide and the exploration of the impact that our family's trauma generations ago can affect us now. I also really enjoyed the learning about how the diaspora affected the characters differently, like marrying within the community and staying true to their cultural values while living in a different culture with different traditions. The writing style was easy to read and felt very authentic and real.

While the genocide was described in small detail, especially from the patriarch's point of view, I don't feel it was woven into the story enough to bridge the past and present. It left me wanting to know more about how it impacts the characters in the present. I feel like it would start to show up and then the point of view would change and it wouldn't be revisited. The character development I felt was lacking mainly because I felt like there were so many loose ends with each of them that were never tied up or resolved. It felt incomplete by the end for me.

Overall, I did enjoy this read and felt the author did a good job. You could feel the heart of this author was put into the pages of this book.

The relationship between Gregor's heroic experience and the later generation's traumas did not seem related to me. There was a lot of bloat in the storytelling that ultimately didn't lead anywhere, such as Hannah's friendship with her fitness instructor. Learning about Mari through her family's memories didn't elucidate why she died by suicide, she sounded like a happy and well-rounded person. Overall these characters were boring and I think the book should have focused a lot more on the Armenian history.

"Waterline" by Aram Mrjoian is an emotional novel that explores the lives of families descended from Gregor, a survivor of the Armenian genocide. Set in near-present-day Michigan, on a small island outside Detroit, the story centers on his great-grandsons, the Kurkjian brothers, who live next to each other. Their close-knit lives are turned upside down when they learn that one of their daughters, Mari, has drowned.

The novel delves into various themes, including isolation, trauma, mourning, grief, and loneliness. It examines concepts like biodegradability—what returns to the earth—and the lingering effects of toxicity. Additionally, it highlights the paradox of finding comfort in strangers rather than in one’s loved ones.

The term "waterline" refers to a measure of stability, helping people understand pressure and assess risk. Mari’s family, living on an island, experiences mourning in a way that reflects the isolation of their surroundings. The Great Lakes surround them, and they are haunted by both the water and their past, which inevitably impacts the stability of their present and future.

Fans of "Crying in H Mart" by Michelle Zauner, "Slow Noodles" by Chantha Nguon, "Homeseeking" by Karissa Chen, "Fire Exit" by Morgan Talty, "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides, "Martyr" by Kaveh Akbar, and "My Friends" by Hisham Matar are likely to appreciate this novel. I highly recommend it. Thank you to HarperVia and NetGalley for the ARC.

PS In sort of a reverse CW, I want to reassure readers that while the book does mention genocide, rape, murder, and suicide, the details are not at all explicit. Rather this book is looking at *emotional fallout and how it affects a family.*