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The Vaster Wilds
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Best Historical Fiction (2023)A taut and electrifying novel from celebrated bestselling author Lauren Groff, about one spirited girl alone in the wilderness, trying to survive
A servant girl escapes from a colonial settlement in the wilderness. She carries nothing with her but her wits, a few possessions, and the spark of god that burns hot within her. What she finds in this terra incognita is beyond the limits of her imagination and will bend her belief in everything that her own civilization has taught her.
Lauren Groff’s new novel is at once a thrilling adventure story and a penetrating fable about trying to find a new way of living in a world succumbing to the churn of colonialism. The Vaster Wilds is a work of raw and prophetic power that tells the story of America in miniature, through one girl at a hinge point in history, to ask how—and if—we can adapt quickly enough to save ourselves.
A servant girl escapes from a colonial settlement in the wilderness. She carries nothing with her but her wits, a few possessions, and the spark of god that burns hot within her. What she finds in this terra incognita is beyond the limits of her imagination and will bend her belief in everything that her own civilization has taught her.
Lauren Groff’s new novel is at once a thrilling adventure story and a penetrating fable about trying to find a new way of living in a world succumbing to the churn of colonialism. The Vaster Wilds is a work of raw and prophetic power that tells the story of America in miniature, through one girl at a hinge point in history, to ask how—and if—we can adapt quickly enough to save ourselves.
272 pages, Hardcover
First published September 12, 2023
About the author
Lauren Groff
56 books6,463 followersLauren Groff was born in Cooperstown, N.Y. and grew up one block from the Baseball Hall of Fame. She graduated from Amherst College and has an MFA in fiction from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
Her short stories have appeared or are forthcoming in a number of journals, including The Atlantic Monthly, Ploughshares, Glimmer Train, Hobart, and Five Points as well as in the anthologies Best American Short Stories 2007, Pushcart Prize XXXII, and Best New American Voices 2008.
She was awarded the Axton Fellowship in Fiction at the University of Louisville, and has had residencies and fellowships at Yaddo and the Vermont Studio Center.
She lives in Gainesville, Florida, with her husband, Clay, and her dog, Cooper.
Her short stories have appeared or are forthcoming in a number of journals, including The Atlantic Monthly, Ploughshares, Glimmer Train, Hobart, and Five Points as well as in the anthologies Best American Short Stories 2007, Pushcart Prize XXXII, and Best New American Voices 2008.
She was awarded the Axton Fellowship in Fiction at the University of Louisville, and has had residencies and fellowships at Yaddo and the Vermont Studio Center.
She lives in Gainesville, Florida, with her husband, Clay, and her dog, Cooper.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 4,681 reviews
March 6, 2024
Bear Grylls could never.
I should have known Lauren Groff would never do me wrong.
If you like shit, you're gonna love this. Not like shitty novels, which this is not. But actual shit (not limited to human). You can’t unread this. I appreciate that Groff said “by the way, everything was gross as hell and sucked ass back in the day.” London--gross and full of literal shit and dead people. In the shit. Jamestown? Hellhole. The wilderness? Not better. The dinner menu? DON’T ASK.
I’ll properly review this soon, maybe. I think this might sum it up. It was wild. I think I loved it? I think I need a drink.
I should have known Lauren Groff would never do me wrong.
If you like shit, you're gonna love this. Not like shitty novels, which this is not. But actual shit (not limited to human). You can’t unread this. I appreciate that Groff said “by the way, everything was gross as hell and sucked ass back in the day.” London--gross and full of literal shit and dead people. In the shit. Jamestown? Hellhole. The wilderness? Not better. The dinner menu? DON’T ASK.
I’ll properly review this soon, maybe. I think this might sum it up. It was wild. I think I loved it? I think I need a drink.
September 10, 2023
After reading Groff’s 2021 release, Matrix (which was also one of my fav reads of the year), I instantly fell in love with her writing. So after learning about her upcoming book, The Vaster Wilds, I’ve been anxiously awaiting the chance to read her breathtaking work again.
The Vaster Wilds is set in early colonial America (in the Jamestown settlement) and is about a servant girl. The girl is a caretaker for a disabled child but when the settlement is struck by famine and the child is dying from starvation, the girl decides she's had enough and heads for the wilderness. With only a few items and a spark inside of her, the girl goes on a physical and spiritual adventure to discover the new world around her.
No modern author can capture the reader and make them a part of the story the way Groff can.
Lauren Groff’s writing is a total visceral, sensory experience. She describes our protagonists surroundings in such detail that the reader also feels, sees, hears, and at times smells, what the character is experiencing. The writing in The Vaster Wilds is powerful and lyrical with its spiritual prose and haunting beauty. Just like Matrix, this is one that will stay with me long after finishing it.
I loved traveling through early colonial America through the eyes of our protagonist. Our protagonist who even though has been given many different names in her life, only refers to herself as Girl. While in the wilderness, the girl contemplates the meaning of life, god, women's role in what was at the time a ‘man's world’, and frequently reminisces on her life before coming to this new world.
I listened to the audiobook which was narrated by one of my favorites, January LaVoy. I highly recommend this format! The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff will be available on September 12 from Riverhead Books. Many thanks to Penguin Random House Audio for the gifted audiobook!
The Vaster Wilds is set in early colonial America (in the Jamestown settlement) and is about a servant girl. The girl is a caretaker for a disabled child but when the settlement is struck by famine and the child is dying from starvation, the girl decides she's had enough and heads for the wilderness. With only a few items and a spark inside of her, the girl goes on a physical and spiritual adventure to discover the new world around her.
No modern author can capture the reader and make them a part of the story the way Groff can.
Lauren Groff’s writing is a total visceral, sensory experience. She describes our protagonists surroundings in such detail that the reader also feels, sees, hears, and at times smells, what the character is experiencing. The writing in The Vaster Wilds is powerful and lyrical with its spiritual prose and haunting beauty. Just like Matrix, this is one that will stay with me long after finishing it.
I loved traveling through early colonial America through the eyes of our protagonist. Our protagonist who even though has been given many different names in her life, only refers to herself as Girl. While in the wilderness, the girl contemplates the meaning of life, god, women's role in what was at the time a ‘man's world’, and frequently reminisces on her life before coming to this new world.
I listened to the audiobook which was narrated by one of my favorites, January LaVoy. I highly recommend this format! The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff will be available on September 12 from Riverhead Books. Many thanks to Penguin Random House Audio for the gifted audiobook!
November 2, 2023
This was a yo-yo on my TBR. On and off with up and down reviews.
Groff hasn’t disappointed me yet- so I took a chance.
Her writing is captivating. A servant, who we only know as Girl, has run away and is in the vastness of the wilderness. We learn she arrived to the new country via a boat with a family and how she lost her first love aboard (or overboard in this case) only to find this new country riddled with famine, disease and some barbarian behaviours.
This is a story of courage and survival. The hardships of starvation, assault, poverty, and atrocities done to man by man.
But it was also a visceral read. I felt the dampness, the cold; smelled the fields and the wilderness.
This plight was a fight. It started off as a fearful one which gradually became a quiet and lonely one with only her thoughts; musings; fears; her reflection and acknowledgement of the past; visions; hallucinations and how strength and resilience build character.
This won’t be a read targeted for everyone. It is dark. It is depressing. But there is also a radiance of life.
4.25⭐️
If you have enjoyed
Fates and Furies&
Matrix, you may find this one as satisfying.
Groff hasn’t disappointed me yet- so I took a chance.
Her writing is captivating. A servant, who we only know as Girl, has run away and is in the vastness of the wilderness. We learn she arrived to the new country via a boat with a family and how she lost her first love aboard (or overboard in this case) only to find this new country riddled with famine, disease and some barbarian behaviours.
This is a story of courage and survival. The hardships of starvation, assault, poverty, and atrocities done to man by man.
But it was also a visceral read. I felt the dampness, the cold; smelled the fields and the wilderness.
This plight was a fight. It started off as a fearful one which gradually became a quiet and lonely one with only her thoughts; musings; fears; her reflection and acknowledgement of the past; visions; hallucinations and how strength and resilience build character.
This won’t be a read targeted for everyone. It is dark. It is depressing. But there is also a radiance of life.
4.25⭐️
If you have enjoyed
Fates and Furies&
Matrix, you may find this one as satisfying.
October 22, 2023
The Vaster Wilds is a meditation on the resilience of the human spirit and on what we are capable of under extreme duress.
This is a story of survival that takes place over just a few days. A servant — known only as “girl” — flees an unnamed 17th-century settlement in the dead of winter.
From its description, we can surmise that it is likely the Jamestown colony, when in the winter of 1609, the majority of its inhabitants died of starvation and disease.
Powered by sheer determination and relentless perseverance, the girl intends to make it from Jamestown to the French colonies in Canada, where she plans to find and marry a fur trapper who can take her to France.
The girl cannot imagine that she will have to trek over 700 miles by foot to get from Virginia to Canada. She does not have the sense of scale to contemplate such a journey. She only knows that staying in Jamestown will kill her.
The girl leaves the settlement with her most precious possessions stuffed inside a sack she ties around her waist: a pewter cup, two lice-infested coverlets, a knife, and flint.
With her meager belongings, she uses all her wits to stay alive, to survive.
Driven by hunger, she finds a nest of baby squirrels and roasts them on a spit; forages for berries, grubs, and mushrooms; battles the inhabitants of a beehive to retrieve its honey; and can hardly believe her good fortune when she discovers and chips away a frozen fish from the ice and eats it raw.
Uneducated but quite ingenious, the girl builds makeshift shelters from rocks, blankets, and hollow tree trunks.
As she falls asleep and dreams, we learn that at the age of four the girl was purchased from a parish poorhouse in England to replace a wealthy woman’s pet monkey…she even inherited the dead monkey’s name, Zed.
When her mistress gives birth to a mentally disabled daughter, Zed becomes the baby’s devoted nursemaid and travels to the New World with the family.
The vast wilderness is harsh and unforgiving, brutal and violent, “all ablaze with ice, the world was on fire with ice.”
The girl is not entirely alone in the wilderness. As she makes her way north, she crosses paths repeatedly with Native people, but she is always careful to keep her distance from them.
She thinks they must be in awe of her and consider her a mystic vision. Instead, they believe her to be comical and sad and quite probably insane.
Each day for the girl is a battle of tending to her weary body, staying warm enough and dry enough and rested enough. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Nature is both friend and foe, and in its clutches she is desperately alone and growing wilder by the day. And yet, this is the most free she has ever been.
“Into the night the girl ran and ran, and the cold and the dark and the wilderness and her fear and the depth of her losses, all things together, dwindled the self she had once known down to nothing. A nothing is no thing, a nothing is a thing with no past. It was also true that with no past, the girl thought, a nothing could be free.”
The Vaster Wilds reads like a 17th-century episode of a TV survival show. Lauren Groff’s visceral prose borrows the cadence and syntax of Elizabethan language, a very distinct colonial-style English.
Gosh, I rarely read books that merit less than three stars. To come across two in the course of as many weeks, is so unusual. Even more bewildering is the fact that I’ve read another book by Groff, The Matrix, and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Despite it being only 270 pages, this novel just tried my patience. There’s only so much I could read ad nauseam about the girl’s freezing body; her search for food to satiate her relentless hunger; and her repeated bouts of “hot liquid shits” detailed in nearly every chapter.
The repetition, coupled with third-person narration, just ruined it for me.
September 9, 2023
Start on Page 37.
At that point in Lauren Groff’s “The Vaster Wilds,” something surprising and creepy finally takes place: A soldier hunting for a runaway servant finds a crevice in the woods where she spent the night. “He dipped his head to the space that had held her body,” Groff writes, “and licked the warm stone.”
Alas, that frisson of horror is short-lived. No sooner do we meet this psychotic killer than he gets struck down by Powhatan Indians. One is almost sorry to see him go.
But the servant girl keeps running.
And running.
And running.
“I want to live, the girl said. If I stop I will die.”
And yet, I thought, if you don’t, I will.
The itinerant story is a challenge of pacing, literally and literarily. From Homer’s “The Odyssey” to Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road,” such tales have always been a matter of one damn thing after another. And novels like “The Outlander,” by Gil Adamson, and “Once Upon a River,” by Bonnie Jo Campbell, demonstrate how gripping the plight of an imperiled young woman setting off alone through nature can be.
This is, of course, not Groff’s first errand into the wilderness. Her previous novel, an unlikely bestseller called “Matrix,” sprang from medieval history: the founding of a nunnery in 12th-century England. Groff imagined the poet Marie de France as a teenager forced to venture into the dark woods to serve as the abbess.
With her new novel, Groff has made that trek more challenging for author and reader.
“The Vaster Wilds” draws us back to the doomed Jamestown, Va., settlement at the start of the 17th century. Our heroine, a young servant girl, has. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
At that point in Lauren Groff’s “The Vaster Wilds,” something surprising and creepy finally takes place: A soldier hunting for a runaway servant finds a crevice in the woods where she spent the night. “He dipped his head to the space that had held her body,” Groff writes, “and licked the warm stone.”
Alas, that frisson of horror is short-lived. No sooner do we meet this psychotic killer than he gets struck down by Powhatan Indians. One is almost sorry to see him go.
But the servant girl keeps running.
And running.
And running.
“I want to live, the girl said. If I stop I will die.”
And yet, I thought, if you don’t, I will.
The itinerant story is a challenge of pacing, literally and literarily. From Homer’s “The Odyssey” to Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road,” such tales have always been a matter of one damn thing after another. And novels like “The Outlander,” by Gil Adamson, and “Once Upon a River,” by Bonnie Jo Campbell, demonstrate how gripping the plight of an imperiled young woman setting off alone through nature can be.
This is, of course, not Groff’s first errand into the wilderness. Her previous novel, an unlikely bestseller called “Matrix,” sprang from medieval history: the founding of a nunnery in 12th-century England. Groff imagined the poet Marie de France as a teenager forced to venture into the dark woods to serve as the abbess.
With her new novel, Groff has made that trek more challenging for author and reader.
“The Vaster Wilds” draws us back to the doomed Jamestown, Va., settlement at the start of the 17th century. Our heroine, a young servant girl, has. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/books/...
July 28, 2023
Groff is a powerhouse writer, a national treasure, and in this Americana book of 17th century Jamestown, she demonstrates her ability to cross all borders while writing a measured story of survival. It concerns one young servant on a colonial settlement, devoted to her mistress and her mistress’ disabled daughter, Bess, but abruptly fled into the vaster wilds. The reason for her departure gradually unfolds while we follow her in the harshest of bitter winters of 1610 Virginia. Usually referred to as “she,” (real name Lamentations Callat, often mockingly called Zed), this young teen orphan braves the wilderness, enduring the punishing climate, starvation, sickness, and the fear of being followed by loathsome men and wild creatures. This is a survival story that soars to the metaphysical. It's a slow frozen burn to a shocking reveal, as well as a portrait of an American landscape not often seen from this perspective. Both earthy and philosophical, the narrative ascends to an inexorable conclusion, luminous and holy. “The world was all ablaze with ice, the world was on fire with ice.”
It starts with a voyage from England to America, as the young servant girl journeys with her mistress and her mistress’ second husband, a minister that, to this reader, seemed icier and crueler than the raw and stinging winter of the wilds. The girl meets a Dutch glassblower on the ship, a gentle and kind individual, but is separated from him during the dangerous journey, and only has her memory of him to keep her warm. Jamestown is filled with pestilence, hunger, and hazards at every turn, even before she runs away. After fleeing with few items, she has to live on her skills and instincts. Exposed to the elements, she is constantly challenged by external forces, and her sick hunger is so intimate for the reader that we feel her digestive processes as if they were our own. Every moment was a hurdle for staying alive, the days and nights of lighting fires to keep warm, eating grubs or mud or darting for fish to stay her starvation, and conjuring companions from the past. Finding meaning in her solitude also became a quest. “Inside there was a darkness of the nothing of god.”
The prose is hard, steaming, dark, raging, sublime. Simultaneously old-fashioned and postmodern, the narrative wends its way through our primordial selves. I cannot write up to the author’s power, it is so prophetic and wondrous and spiritual. For every nit or louse the girl removes from under her arms or her genitalia, from every hot, loose stool or inflammation of her flesh, there is also a deep rising of the divine within her soul. Groff braids the natural and spiritual world in a way that left me breathless, exhilarated. “Then she thought that perhaps in the language of the bears there was a kind of gospel, also. And this gospel said to the bears the same thing about god giving bears dominion over the world.” “And that god could change according to the person in the moment the soul was encountering god.”
Lost and wandering, the fleeing girl must contend with the harsh realities of things she doesn’t understand. There are the chance but distant sightings of Powhatan and Piscataway people; the monstrous looking bears; and an insane, sadistic Jesuit priest also living in the wilderness and haunting her tracks. “If I stop I will die” is the instinct that serves her in this frozen terrain. This is a novel to read slowly but with fervor. My stars, Lauren Groff has written a most exquisite novel, almost beyond the pale.
Thank you heartily to Riverhead Books for sending me an ARC to read and review.
It starts with a voyage from England to America, as the young servant girl journeys with her mistress and her mistress’ second husband, a minister that, to this reader, seemed icier and crueler than the raw and stinging winter of the wilds. The girl meets a Dutch glassblower on the ship, a gentle and kind individual, but is separated from him during the dangerous journey, and only has her memory of him to keep her warm. Jamestown is filled with pestilence, hunger, and hazards at every turn, even before she runs away. After fleeing with few items, she has to live on her skills and instincts. Exposed to the elements, she is constantly challenged by external forces, and her sick hunger is so intimate for the reader that we feel her digestive processes as if they were our own. Every moment was a hurdle for staying alive, the days and nights of lighting fires to keep warm, eating grubs or mud or darting for fish to stay her starvation, and conjuring companions from the past. Finding meaning in her solitude also became a quest. “Inside there was a darkness of the nothing of god.”
The prose is hard, steaming, dark, raging, sublime. Simultaneously old-fashioned and postmodern, the narrative wends its way through our primordial selves. I cannot write up to the author’s power, it is so prophetic and wondrous and spiritual. For every nit or louse the girl removes from under her arms or her genitalia, from every hot, loose stool or inflammation of her flesh, there is also a deep rising of the divine within her soul. Groff braids the natural and spiritual world in a way that left me breathless, exhilarated. “Then she thought that perhaps in the language of the bears there was a kind of gospel, also. And this gospel said to the bears the same thing about god giving bears dominion over the world.” “And that god could change according to the person in the moment the soul was encountering god.”
Lost and wandering, the fleeing girl must contend with the harsh realities of things she doesn’t understand. There are the chance but distant sightings of Powhatan and Piscataway people; the monstrous looking bears; and an insane, sadistic Jesuit priest also living in the wilderness and haunting her tracks. “If I stop I will die” is the instinct that serves her in this frozen terrain. This is a novel to read slowly but with fervor. My stars, Lauren Groff has written a most exquisite novel, almost beyond the pale.
Thank you heartily to Riverhead Books for sending me an ARC to read and review.
November 21, 2023
You gotta love how this book goes from:
to
We follow The Girl as she runs through a forest, kills baby animals, gets wet, gets cold, gets sick and pisses and shits all over the place.
Rinse (actually no, don't rinse, not much rinsing done in this book) and repeat, and you've got yourself The Vaster Wilds.
Look, I generally don't need much of a plot as long as I get to read about interesting characters. Which brings us to my biggest issue with this book: The Girl travels solo style.
Sure, we see glimpses of who she is here and there (when she brutally murders some baby squirrels for example), but humans generally reveal their personality through interaction and by facing conflict (a pretty much nonexistent element in this book).
It pains me to think how much more interesting this story could've been, had The Girl had company. For example, had she taken "the child Bess" with her, we could've actually experienced the love she keeps telling us she feels for Bess. The Girl would have had someone to care about, to fight for. Her loss would've been tragic instead of the semi-interesting fact the reader nonchalantly gets slapped in the face with early on.
In the same vein, it boggles my mind how quickly a certain character is done away with, the only character who brought even a semblance of tension into the story.
Overall, many strange choices were made. If Groff's intention was to defy most narrative norms, she definitely succeeded.
You could say she took a "hot liquid shit" on them.
She sensed the earth under her in its spin and knew herself to be a piece of it, necessary and large enough. For a long moment, she saw herself lying in the very center of the palm of God’s hand, and the night was made of God’s fingers curved to protect her against the blaze of eternity.
to
she shat in a hot loose flood because she hadn't contained anything within her body to shit out in weeks
We follow The Girl as she runs through a forest, kills baby animals, gets wet, gets cold, gets sick and pisses and shits all over the place.
Rinse (actually no, don't rinse, not much rinsing done in this book) and repeat, and you've got yourself The Vaster Wilds.
Look, I generally don't need much of a plot as long as I get to read about interesting characters. Which brings us to my biggest issue with this book: The Girl travels solo style.
Sure, we see glimpses of who she is here and there (when she brutally murders some baby squirrels for example), but humans generally reveal their personality through interaction and by facing conflict (a pretty much nonexistent element in this book).
It pains me to think how much more interesting this story could've been, had The Girl had company. For example, had she taken "the child Bess" with her, we could've actually experienced the love she keeps telling us she feels for Bess. The Girl would have had someone to care about, to fight for. Her loss would've been tragic instead of the semi-interesting fact the reader nonchalantly gets slapped in the face with early on.
In the same vein, it boggles my mind how quickly a certain character is done away with, the only character who brought even a semblance of tension into the story.
Overall, many strange choices were made. If Groff's intention was to defy most narrative norms, she definitely succeeded.
You could say she took a "hot liquid shit" on them.
May 1, 2024
A gorgeous story of a resilient girl navigating a perilous forest. Loved this!
Want to see my Top Reads of 2023 on BookTube? Come find me at Hello, Bookworm.📚🐛
"She flew as fast as she could over the mud thinly frozen again in the chill night, into the wild dark woods, because what was behind her was far more deadly than whatever could lie ahead."
Absolutely exquisite story of peril and perseverance, adorned with lush descriptions of the natural world. I could not get enough of this book!
This book opens on a girl in a low drawn hood slipping through a slit in a palisade. Her small body is frail from starvation, the wind is spitting icy snow at angles, and there are corpses littering the ground, yet she sets off into the dark of night, running for her life because the perils that lie ahead of her are nothing compared to what she's leaving behind.
The Vaster Wilds offers some of the most sensory, descriptive, lyrical writing of my 2023 reads. I was in equal parts riveted by the girl's harrowing story and Lauren Groff's wondrous linguistic style. Can't recommend this one highly enough!
Want to see my Top Reads of 2023 on BookTube? Come find me at Hello, Bookworm.📚🐛
"She flew as fast as she could over the mud thinly frozen again in the chill night, into the wild dark woods, because what was behind her was far more deadly than whatever could lie ahead."
Absolutely exquisite story of peril and perseverance, adorned with lush descriptions of the natural world. I could not get enough of this book!
This book opens on a girl in a low drawn hood slipping through a slit in a palisade. Her small body is frail from starvation, the wind is spitting icy snow at angles, and there are corpses littering the ground, yet she sets off into the dark of night, running for her life because the perils that lie ahead of her are nothing compared to what she's leaving behind.
The Vaster Wilds offers some of the most sensory, descriptive, lyrical writing of my 2023 reads. I was in equal parts riveted by the girl's harrowing story and Lauren Groff's wondrous linguistic style. Can't recommend this one highly enough!
January 3, 2024
This book was getting such positive reviews I decided to give it a try. It’s a book I appreciated more than enjoyed. And even my appreciation had its limits.
A young servant girl takes off into the wilderness from the English colonial settlement of Jamestown. It’s a meaty story, tackling the strict religion of the colony, the dominance of the men and of the leaders. It beautifully paints the darkness and horror - the starvation and illness inside the fort, but more so of men’s souls. It goes back in time, so the reader learns of her prior life in England. But it was also a little too woowoo for me. At times, she gets all mystic, and it was hard for me to buy into this deeply philosophical bent.
While Mother Nature throws everything at the girl, she has little interaction with humans. That means everything is some form of internal dialog. The girl struggles to survive. There are scenes when she eats things you and I would struggle to stomach which gives you an idea of the depth of her hunger. We eventually learn why the leaders were so determined to catch her and it’s not a pretty story.
I listened to this and January LaVoy does her normal excellent job.
A young servant girl takes off into the wilderness from the English colonial settlement of Jamestown. It’s a meaty story, tackling the strict religion of the colony, the dominance of the men and of the leaders. It beautifully paints the darkness and horror - the starvation and illness inside the fort, but more so of men’s souls. It goes back in time, so the reader learns of her prior life in England. But it was also a little too woowoo for me. At times, she gets all mystic, and it was hard for me to buy into this deeply philosophical bent.
While Mother Nature throws everything at the girl, she has little interaction with humans. That means everything is some form of internal dialog. The girl struggles to survive. There are scenes when she eats things you and I would struggle to stomach which gives you an idea of the depth of her hunger. We eventually learn why the leaders were so determined to catch her and it’s not a pretty story.
I listened to this and January LaVoy does her normal excellent job.
February 24, 2024
Long before there was an American Dream, there was the American Impulse.
A wonder-filled and often childish feeling of audacity, a burning longing to conquer immensity, a daring, joyful, foolish leap into the unknown, a pushing of one’s own self-imposed limits and testing of the waters.
But to even feel the first tingling sensations of this American impulse, the first English settlers needed to burn through their own colonial, pious, zealot, unforgiving, manipulative, god-fearing origins.
The “American” experience, in order to be born, had to suffer and cut through its very own Heart of Darkness.
In her stunning portrait of a young servant girl escaping the fresh Hell that was the first English settlement of Jamestown, Lauren Groff offers us nothing less than a hallucinatory, searingly lyrical, agonizing and ultimately transfixing allegory of this foundational moment in American history.
A spiritual shedding of the skin. An alchemical process. The painful birthing of new truths about one’s place in the world, about solitude and community, about nature’s benevolence and unbiased cruelty, about the flickering span of a human life and the ever-pulsing, ever-moving vaster wilds all around us.
There are many echoes here of writers whom I love, Walt Whitman, Annie Dillard, Jim Harrison, Malcolm Lowry, Toni Morrison, Richard Powers, Charles Frazier’s “Cold Mountain”, Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road”, even stirrings of Jon Krakauer’s “Into the Wild”.
A fever-fueled origin story, carried away by all of the elements, brought to life by a writer on fire, an artist at the height of her powers, and sung by a girl whose many given names you will never forget.
Incantatory.
A wonder-filled and often childish feeling of audacity, a burning longing to conquer immensity, a daring, joyful, foolish leap into the unknown, a pushing of one’s own self-imposed limits and testing of the waters.
But to even feel the first tingling sensations of this American impulse, the first English settlers needed to burn through their own colonial, pious, zealot, unforgiving, manipulative, god-fearing origins.
The “American” experience, in order to be born, had to suffer and cut through its very own Heart of Darkness.
In her stunning portrait of a young servant girl escaping the fresh Hell that was the first English settlement of Jamestown, Lauren Groff offers us nothing less than a hallucinatory, searingly lyrical, agonizing and ultimately transfixing allegory of this foundational moment in American history.
A spiritual shedding of the skin. An alchemical process. The painful birthing of new truths about one’s place in the world, about solitude and community, about nature’s benevolence and unbiased cruelty, about the flickering span of a human life and the ever-pulsing, ever-moving vaster wilds all around us.
There are many echoes here of writers whom I love, Walt Whitman, Annie Dillard, Jim Harrison, Malcolm Lowry, Toni Morrison, Richard Powers, Charles Frazier’s “Cold Mountain”, Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road”, even stirrings of Jon Krakauer’s “Into the Wild”.
A fever-fueled origin story, carried away by all of the elements, brought to life by a writer on fire, an artist at the height of her powers, and sung by a girl whose many given names you will never forget.
Incantatory.
September 18, 2023
I have loved all of Groff’s novels and count her as one of my favourite writers. But nobody needs 250 pages of a girl running through a forest trying to survive. The pain of existence is on every page. The prose is often beautiful. I feel tired. If anyone has read this and loved it could we please meet for coffee to chat.
September 18, 2023
Gorgeous and tragic and expansive; so so so cinematic
September 9, 2023
3.5 stars. For a while I wasn't sure I would finish this book. For a long while. I am not much of a historical fiction reader, I am not a fan of survival stories, and once I realized that this is simply the story of a girl who is very alone in the wilderness and that there will be no easy resolutions I struggled to continue. But I did continue. And I am actually glad I did, Groff is taking us somewhere. It is, weirdly, somehow anti-colonialist (which probably isn't a surprise) and a climate novel (much more of one).
I am not sure it will work for other people the way it worked for me but the thing is that after the last few years I have a pretty bleak view of humanity and so does this book, most of the time. To me it felt validating, to others it might feel offputting. It might be one of the first novels where I saw the overwhelmingness of suffering in the world attempted to be reckoned with on the page, and in such a small story. It's strangely effective.
That said, while I loved where she got to, I would have been much happier with this in novella or even short story form. I found the ending very affecting but much of what came before ran together.
I am not sure it will work for other people the way it worked for me but the thing is that after the last few years I have a pretty bleak view of humanity and so does this book, most of the time. To me it felt validating, to others it might feel offputting. It might be one of the first novels where I saw the overwhelmingness of suffering in the world attempted to be reckoned with on the page, and in such a small story. It's strangely effective.
That said, while I loved where she got to, I would have been much happier with this in novella or even short story form. I found the ending very affecting but much of what came before ran together.
September 21, 2023
Groff’s new novel knocked my socks off and I wasn’t expecting it. The thematic elements appealed to me greatly: human nature’s tendency to grapple with faith, human being’s complicated relationship with itself, our role against nature, gender relations, and colonialism. All of which are tackled with a slim story about a young girl fleeing miserable conditions at a colony that is clearly meant to resemble Jamestown.
Lamentations, as she is sometimes called, is a charming character. One that the reader quickly becomes emotionally invested in. And as we cheer her through her obstacles and the situations become more and more dire, the reader feels despair alongside her. Groff’s writing technique is also interesting. It is both stilted and eloquent. That seems an oxymoron, but allow me an example:
“She slept, and in her sleep, she smiled because she saw glories of sundazzle and water and the night sky white with stars; she was flying once more effortless across the land. The loss of a star dims not the splendor of the constellations; she did not have the force to remember which of her voices had said this.”
Not flowery, but not sparse either. The prose is beautiful but doesn’t feel quite natural. It really reminded me of McCarthy’s prose in ‘Blood Meridian’. Reading her descriptive passages compared to watching a film with beautiful cinematography.
I have seen commentary on this book saying it is light on plot, or the plotline is too slow. I couldn’t disagree more. This is a survival story with beautiful nature settings, evil men, hermits, ocean storms, wild beasts, murder, and a desperate young woman. This is not a slow plot. When you couple this story with Groff’s beautiful writing and the strong thematic elements, then what you are left with is one of the strongest books of the year. I am shocked this isn’t receiving more hype.
I also noticed that Groff thanks Hernan Diaz in her acknowledgments for his readership of this book. Diaz, a recent Pulitzer Prize winner, is also a teacher at Columbia, home of the Pulitzer Prize. ‘The Vaster Wilds’ has a champion with strong ties to the Pulitzer committee, so do not be surprised if this book does some damage come prize season. I for one hope that it receives its deserved recognition. Five stars.
Lamentations, as she is sometimes called, is a charming character. One that the reader quickly becomes emotionally invested in. And as we cheer her through her obstacles and the situations become more and more dire, the reader feels despair alongside her. Groff’s writing technique is also interesting. It is both stilted and eloquent. That seems an oxymoron, but allow me an example:
“She slept, and in her sleep, she smiled because she saw glories of sundazzle and water and the night sky white with stars; she was flying once more effortless across the land. The loss of a star dims not the splendor of the constellations; she did not have the force to remember which of her voices had said this.”
Not flowery, but not sparse either. The prose is beautiful but doesn’t feel quite natural. It really reminded me of McCarthy’s prose in ‘Blood Meridian’. Reading her descriptive passages compared to watching a film with beautiful cinematography.
I have seen commentary on this book saying it is light on plot, or the plotline is too slow. I couldn’t disagree more. This is a survival story with beautiful nature settings, evil men, hermits, ocean storms, wild beasts, murder, and a desperate young woman. This is not a slow plot. When you couple this story with Groff’s beautiful writing and the strong thematic elements, then what you are left with is one of the strongest books of the year. I am shocked this isn’t receiving more hype.
I also noticed that Groff thanks Hernan Diaz in her acknowledgments for his readership of this book. Diaz, a recent Pulitzer Prize winner, is also a teacher at Columbia, home of the Pulitzer Prize. ‘The Vaster Wilds’ has a champion with strong ties to the Pulitzer committee, so do not be surprised if this book does some damage come prize season. I for one hope that it receives its deserved recognition. Five stars.
March 17, 2024
4.5 stars
short review for busy readers: Unique historical adventure set against the backdrop of raw survival in the New World. Highly competently structured and written. Excellent pacing, lots of vivid nature descriptions without becoming overly detailed. Glimpses into the Powhatan civilization, 17th century English life and the early English colonies in America. Descriptions of hunting/eating wild animals for survival, disease and an instance of cannibalism (all historically accurate).
This is a story meant to be heard, not read. So *best on audio.*
in detail:
Early 1600s. Jamestown, Virginia.
"Girl," the servant of a clergyman and his family who was never asked if she wanted to go to the New World, escapes the Jamestown settlement ravaged by hunger, disease and religion-fueled cruelty after witnessing an instance of cannibalism.
Walking north to find the French she has heard have their own settlements, Girl must face not only the dangers of the wild, but also her crumbling worldview, which shatters every belief she ever accepted as true.
Traditionally, there have been 4 types of stories (man vs technology is a recent 5th):
man vs society
man vs man
man vs himself
and
man vs nature
They say this final one - man vs nature - is the hardest to write and therefore the rarest, as a novel without people or human structures is often of little interest to readers and can become quite repetitive if not handled with extraordinary care. (In literature think of Jack London's work such as To Build a Fire and in cinema, the movie "Castaway," "The Martian" or the show "Alone".)
Lauren Groff took up the challenge -- and that massively successfully. I was never once bored or found the narrative lacking in tension.
Her characterisation and feel for pacing is excellent, as she seamlessly intersperses flashbacks to Girl's life in London with the dramatic challenges of her current flight. Groff gives us an unrelenting 360° view of the 17th century life of a person with no name or importance, but who nonetheless has a depth of emotion, belief and understanding that far outstrips the people around her.
While Girl's iconoclastic thought trains may seem very modern - and some are - most are in keeping with the thoughts of English religious "crazies" of that time period, such as the Quakers, who believed so much in the equality of all people that they were often jailed or disowned for their beliefs.
The Vaster Wilds is not a happy story , but it is a beautiful story, full of the wonders, and horrors, of the natural world.
It is historical fiction, but only as flavouring. The real focus of the narrative is on our place in nature and the universe, on our relationship with all that surrounds us.
It is also one of those rare stories best heard, not read. I realised this almost half way through the print version, so if this book interests you, I'd highly suggest opting for an audio version if you can.
short review for busy readers: Unique historical adventure set against the backdrop of raw survival in the New World. Highly competently structured and written. Excellent pacing, lots of vivid nature descriptions without becoming overly detailed. Glimpses into the Powhatan civilization, 17th century English life and the early English colonies in America. Descriptions of hunting/eating wild animals for survival, disease and an instance of cannibalism (all historically accurate).
This is a story meant to be heard, not read. So *best on audio.*
in detail:
Early 1600s. Jamestown, Virginia.
"Girl," the servant of a clergyman and his family who was never asked if she wanted to go to the New World, escapes the Jamestown settlement ravaged by hunger, disease and religion-fueled cruelty after witnessing an instance of cannibalism.
Walking north to find the French she has heard have their own settlements, Girl must face not only the dangers of the wild, but also her crumbling worldview, which shatters every belief she ever accepted as true.
Traditionally, there have been 4 types of stories (man vs technology is a recent 5th):
man vs society
man vs man
man vs himself
and
man vs nature
They say this final one - man vs nature - is the hardest to write and therefore the rarest, as a novel without people or human structures is often of little interest to readers and can become quite repetitive if not handled with extraordinary care. (In literature think of Jack London's work such as To Build a Fire and in cinema, the movie "Castaway," "The Martian" or the show "Alone".)
Lauren Groff took up the challenge -- and that massively successfully. I was never once bored or found the narrative lacking in tension.
Her characterisation and feel for pacing is excellent, as she seamlessly intersperses flashbacks to Girl's life in London with the dramatic challenges of her current flight. Groff gives us an unrelenting 360° view of the 17th century life of a person with no name or importance, but who nonetheless has a depth of emotion, belief and understanding that far outstrips the people around her.
While Girl's iconoclastic thought trains may seem very modern - and some are - most are in keeping with the thoughts of English religious "crazies" of that time period, such as the Quakers, who believed so much in the equality of all people that they were often jailed or disowned for their beliefs.
The Vaster Wilds is not a happy story , but it is a beautiful story, full of the wonders, and horrors, of the natural world.
It is historical fiction, but only as flavouring. The real focus of the narrative is on our place in nature and the universe, on our relationship with all that surrounds us.
It is also one of those rare stories best heard, not read. I realised this almost half way through the print version, so if this book interests you, I'd highly suggest opting for an audio version if you can.
July 13, 2023
My early Shelf Awareness review: Groff's riveting fifth novel combines visceral detail and magisterial sweep as it chronicles a runaway servant's struggle to endure a bitter colonial winter.
Grounding facts are rare--as in Matrix, her previous work of historical fiction, the outlook perhaps feels more timeless than period-specific--but gradually the scene emerges: the year is 1610 and the teenage protagonist has escaped the famine- and disease-ridden Jamestown colony in Virginia. Not long ago, "the girl," as she is almost always called, sailed from England, accompanying her mistress and the woman's second husband, a minister, and intellectually disabled daughter, Bess. The girl fell in love with a Dutch glassblower while on board ship, but a violent storm separated them.
Flashbacks to these and other traumatic events--living in a poorhouse as an orphan and being taken into service at age four; a gang rape the mistress dismisses as "the daily lot of woman"--seep into her mind as she copes with the harsh reality of life in the wilderness. With faith and resilience, she finds shelter, builds fires, repairs her garments, and subsists on raw fish, duck eggs, and berries. However, terror of the forest and its creatures never leaves. She is right to fear: this is bear country and, though the Powhatan and Piscataway tolerate her presence, men of European descent wish her harm. Groff briefly departs from the close third-person narration to detail masterfully plotted histories of a Jesuit priest turned hermit who deems her a she-devil and a soldier who pursues her, ready to take out his sadism on a "murderess."
The mystery of the incident to which he's referring remains until near the novel's end, adding a filament of suspense to what becomes a classic study of solitude. Groff's loving attention to everyday needs prioritizes the instinct to survive: "I want to live," the girl thinks. "If I stop I will die." Groff notes that "there was still no other way than forward, one step after another toward hope, toward salvation." The style is archaic and postmodern all at once, with outmoded phrasing but nonstandard capitalization and no speech marks. The result is as evocative and affecting as Girl with a Pearl Earring and Year of Wonders--and as brutal as anything Cormac McCarthy has written. The existential threat to women makes it a potent, timely fable as much as a historical novel.
(Posted with permission from Shelf Awareness.)
Grounding facts are rare--as in Matrix, her previous work of historical fiction, the outlook perhaps feels more timeless than period-specific--but gradually the scene emerges: the year is 1610 and the teenage protagonist has escaped the famine- and disease-ridden Jamestown colony in Virginia. Not long ago, "the girl," as she is almost always called, sailed from England, accompanying her mistress and the woman's second husband, a minister, and intellectually disabled daughter, Bess. The girl fell in love with a Dutch glassblower while on board ship, but a violent storm separated them.
Flashbacks to these and other traumatic events--living in a poorhouse as an orphan and being taken into service at age four; a gang rape the mistress dismisses as "the daily lot of woman"--seep into her mind as she copes with the harsh reality of life in the wilderness. With faith and resilience, she finds shelter, builds fires, repairs her garments, and subsists on raw fish, duck eggs, and berries. However, terror of the forest and its creatures never leaves. She is right to fear: this is bear country and, though the Powhatan and Piscataway tolerate her presence, men of European descent wish her harm. Groff briefly departs from the close third-person narration to detail masterfully plotted histories of a Jesuit priest turned hermit who deems her a she-devil and a soldier who pursues her, ready to take out his sadism on a "murderess."
The mystery of the incident to which he's referring remains until near the novel's end, adding a filament of suspense to what becomes a classic study of solitude. Groff's loving attention to everyday needs prioritizes the instinct to survive: "I want to live," the girl thinks. "If I stop I will die." Groff notes that "there was still no other way than forward, one step after another toward hope, toward salvation." The style is archaic and postmodern all at once, with outmoded phrasing but nonstandard capitalization and no speech marks. The result is as evocative and affecting as Girl with a Pearl Earring and Year of Wonders--and as brutal as anything Cormac McCarthy has written. The existential threat to women makes it a potent, timely fable as much as a historical novel.
(Posted with permission from Shelf Awareness.)
September 30, 2023
Not my cup of tea.
October 20, 2023
I almost didn’t read this due to so many negative reviews from trusted Goodreads friends, but I have a weakness for Lauren Groff. The book came in from the library so I picked it up, just intending to page through it out of curiosity. A few pages in, I was hooked. Could not put it down, loved it.
It’s a tough, gut-wrenching read, to be sure, but Groff is a sublime writer and she spun a wondrous tale. Tender-hearted readers might want to give this a pass, but I found it a rewarding and moving journey.
It’s a tough, gut-wrenching read, to be sure, but Groff is a sublime writer and she spun a wondrous tale. Tender-hearted readers might want to give this a pass, but I found it a rewarding and moving journey.
January 16, 2024
This is an incredibly bleak book full of hot wet shits.
I've seen reviewers call this an allegory for the plight of modern women, but I don't buy it. This is its own story, the plight of a 17th century woman alone in the wilderness trying to escape abuse, disease, and death, only to seek death to escape her own misery. I, too, wish to escape the misery of this slog.
Some also argue for the beauty of the language, THE SYNTAX. girl please.
I've seen reviewers call this an allegory for the plight of modern women, but I don't buy it. This is its own story, the plight of a 17th century woman alone in the wilderness trying to escape abuse, disease, and death, only to seek death to escape her own misery. I, too, wish to escape the misery of this slog.
Some also argue for the beauty of the language, THE SYNTAX. girl please.
December 5, 2023
4.5
As with Groff’s previous novel, Matrix, I started her latest without knowing a thing about it. (Or I thought I didn’t; I now see I read Elaine’s review in late October — so much for my memory.) Groff has impressed me with never writing the same book twice, and I’m always interested in seeing where she goes. Because I was surprised that Matrix was historical fiction (of a sort—I argue in my review that it’s ‘historical fantasy’), I was a bit surprised to see she’d gone into the distant past again. But that element is the only comparison to her previous book: different time period, different place, different writing style.
In the early pages I realized this was a survival story, and I wasn’t sure I'd be interested in all the details of what “the girl” (mostly unnamed) has to do as she’s fleeing “civilization” for an unknown reason (revealed later). But at some point I realized that though it is a survival story, it is not an adventure tale (a la Jack London). My brain went to Toni Morrison’s A Mercy—same-ish time period and location, and the protagonist is also a servant, though not enslaved, per se.
With the descriptions of how the girl feels when she literally runs, I was reminded of Groff’s sister. Years ago I’d read somewhere that Groff’s sister is a long-distance runner and, sure enough, the acknowledgments mention her. The endurance of the girl’s body is stretched to its limits and, in a matter of a fortnight or so, her mind too is changed. I imagine some readers may find that some of the girl’s eventual thoughts are more of today, and maybe one or two are jarring in that respect. But while it’s commonplace knowledge that historical fiction inevitably comments on the writer’s own time period, I think it’s important to remember too that not everyone thought the same in a particular time period. For examples, there have always been those against slavery and against destroying the land. Women may have been forced to be subservient to men and their violence, but that doesn’t mean some didn’t work against it. I also think the girl’s changing thoughts illustrate the evolution of reasoning: how a person, especially a young person, can go from accepting what they’ve been told, to completely changing their mind, especially after trauma.
A few days after finishing this, I attended a talk with Groff (and others) at the Ogden Museum (New Orleans) and, while the conversation was labeled “Florida Stories,” I was happy to hear her briefly stated intentions about this novel.
As with Groff’s previous novel, Matrix, I started her latest without knowing a thing about it. (Or I thought I didn’t; I now see I read Elaine’s review in late October — so much for my memory.) Groff has impressed me with never writing the same book twice, and I’m always interested in seeing where she goes. Because I was surprised that Matrix was historical fiction (of a sort—I argue in my review that it’s ‘historical fantasy’), I was a bit surprised to see she’d gone into the distant past again. But that element is the only comparison to her previous book: different time period, different place, different writing style.
In the early pages I realized this was a survival story, and I wasn’t sure I'd be interested in all the details of what “the girl” (mostly unnamed) has to do as she’s fleeing “civilization” for an unknown reason (revealed later). But at some point I realized that though it is a survival story, it is not an adventure tale (a la Jack London). My brain went to Toni Morrison’s A Mercy—same-ish time period and location, and the protagonist is also a servant, though not enslaved, per se.
With the descriptions of how the girl feels when she literally runs, I was reminded of Groff’s sister. Years ago I’d read somewhere that Groff’s sister is a long-distance runner and, sure enough, the acknowledgments mention her. The endurance of the girl’s body is stretched to its limits and, in a matter of a fortnight or so, her mind too is changed. I imagine some readers may find that some of the girl’s eventual thoughts are more of today, and maybe one or two are jarring in that respect. But while it’s commonplace knowledge that historical fiction inevitably comments on the writer’s own time period, I think it’s important to remember too that not everyone thought the same in a particular time period. For examples, there have always been those against slavery and against destroying the land. Women may have been forced to be subservient to men and their violence, but that doesn’t mean some didn’t work against it. I also think the girl’s changing thoughts illustrate the evolution of reasoning: how a person, especially a young person, can go from accepting what they’ve been told, to completely changing their mind, especially after trauma.
A few days after finishing this, I attended a talk with Groff (and others) at the Ogden Museum (New Orleans) and, while the conversation was labeled “Florida Stories,” I was happy to hear her briefly stated intentions about this novel.
October 18, 2023
I have mentioned before that one of my main considerations when rating a book is whether the author achieved what she wished to achieve in writing the book. Here I think the answer is a resounding yes. This is a compelling writing exercise, and the prose is remarkable. I never love Groff's books, but I have come away from reading her work awed by her craft every single time. There is true artistry here in Groff's descriptions of sensations and wonderings and experiences. Everything is visceral and deeply personal (I have generally found Groff's work cold and that is not an issue here), and right there on the page. There were two problems for me, neither of which has a thing to do with Groff's skill. The first problem is that what she is bringing to life is mostly revolting, really disgusting, and a lot of the time it is not revolting it is kind of dull. (People who enjoy graphic horror might like this, though it is not in any traditional way horror.) The second problem for me is that Groff has a very clear point of view, an integrated theory really, about God and religion and nature and humans as part of the natural world, and as destroyers of the natural world, and it is well presented, it just does not ring true for me personally. (Other than the belief that the world is unsafe for woman. We agree on that. There is a passage that depicts grooming a young girl that is sickening, but is the best writing I have ever read on the subject. Those 4 sentences pack a book into them and I have been fixated on that story for over 24 hours now and I expect it will stay with me for a long time, if not forever.) I don't buy into her theory so I didn't enjoy the book, but I admired every page.
Essentially this is dystopian history. It reads in many ways like many dystopian novels, with our hero tromping through an apocalyptic hellscape outrunning those who wish her dead. Like many of those books, this is threaded through with a strong save the earth message. Those books though are set in the future or in alternate universes, and this book is set in 17th century Virginia. Our lead, we know her only as Zed (which is not her real name), is escaping a British settlement. (It's not mentioned by name, but it seems like it is Jamestown.) Zed is escaping to avoid repercussions from actions I won't spoil. In the early 17th century Jamestown experienced a famine that wiped out most everyone. (Thanks Lauren Groff for making those Williamsburg/Jamestown trips pay off!) Zed was a servant girl charged with raising a young child who is now dead -- she has no money, food or family. In her escape she shares memories (she is utterly alone with lots of time to ponder) and experiences many terrible things. The things that seem to take the most space on the page, other than a couple of long musings on God and nature, are vivid descriptions of Zed's pissing and shitting, her filth. Bothered by detailed descriptions of a woman picking the lice and fleas out of her pubic hair and armpits? Do you want to avoid frank and clinically detailed depictions of steaming torrential piss and ferocious diarrhea (color, texture, velocity of travel, etc.) If so you might want to take a pass. For my friends who appreciate art, reading this is like looking at a Francis Bacon painting. Fascinating, brilliantly rendered, repellant.
I am ending up with a 3 here. Personal enjoyment is a 2 and craft is a 5.
Essentially this is dystopian history. It reads in many ways like many dystopian novels, with our hero tromping through an apocalyptic hellscape outrunning those who wish her dead. Like many of those books, this is threaded through with a strong save the earth message. Those books though are set in the future or in alternate universes, and this book is set in 17th century Virginia. Our lead, we know her only as Zed (which is not her real name), is escaping a British settlement. (It's not mentioned by name, but it seems like it is Jamestown.) Zed is escaping to avoid repercussions from actions I won't spoil. In the early 17th century Jamestown experienced a famine that wiped out most everyone. (Thanks Lauren Groff for making those Williamsburg/Jamestown trips pay off!) Zed was a servant girl charged with raising a young child who is now dead -- she has no money, food or family. In her escape she shares memories (she is utterly alone with lots of time to ponder) and experiences many terrible things. The things that seem to take the most space on the page, other than a couple of long musings on God and nature, are vivid descriptions of Zed's pissing and shitting, her filth. Bothered by detailed descriptions of a woman picking the lice and fleas out of her pubic hair and armpits? Do you want to avoid frank and clinically detailed depictions of steaming torrential piss and ferocious diarrhea (color, texture, velocity of travel, etc.) If so you might want to take a pass. For my friends who appreciate art, reading this is like looking at a Francis Bacon painting. Fascinating, brilliantly rendered, repellant.
I am ending up with a 3 here. Personal enjoyment is a 2 and craft is a 5.
July 25, 2023
92nd book of 2023.
2.5. Groff has written her new novel about survival. The blurb suggests this is part of a trilogy about the end of empire. The protagonist here is a girl who has escaped her mistress and now must survive in the wilderness. There are a few flashbacks to her time with the mistress and looking after said woman's child, but most of the novel is dedicated to running through forests, sucking the insides out of eggs, eating worms, hiding in caves, dodging wolves and bears and generally just moving place to place. I've never read Groff before; I found her readable, but I needed more from this, I think. I'm a big fan of 'plotless' novels. My professor used to say there's no such thing as plotless, as long as a character wants something. That's enough. I guess the girl wants to survive, but I wasn't invested in this want. It seemed too simple. If you like the idea of a girl surviving in the vaster wilds of the world, hunting, hiding, sneaking, then pick this up in September. I wonder what established fans of Groff will think. Other ARC reviews look promising. Thanks to Random House for sending me this advance copy for review.
2.5. Groff has written her new novel about survival. The blurb suggests this is part of a trilogy about the end of empire. The protagonist here is a girl who has escaped her mistress and now must survive in the wilderness. There are a few flashbacks to her time with the mistress and looking after said woman's child, but most of the novel is dedicated to running through forests, sucking the insides out of eggs, eating worms, hiding in caves, dodging wolves and bears and generally just moving place to place. I've never read Groff before; I found her readable, but I needed more from this, I think. I'm a big fan of 'plotless' novels. My professor used to say there's no such thing as plotless, as long as a character wants something. That's enough. I guess the girl wants to survive, but I wasn't invested in this want. It seemed too simple. If you like the idea of a girl surviving in the vaster wilds of the world, hunting, hiding, sneaking, then pick this up in September. I wonder what established fans of Groff will think. Other ARC reviews look promising. Thanks to Random House for sending me this advance copy for review.
June 27, 2023
Probably my favourite book I've read this year...
It's dark and it's grim and it's bleak, and it won't be for everyone, but god I loved it.
I have to admit.. I love stories of surviving in the wilderness, and I love exploring the history of the New World era - the colonisation of America at Jamestown. So really, this is a perfect book for me.
The story follows a young servant girl who flees a colonial settlement, straight out into the wilderness. She would rather face all the dangers of the unknown beasts and hardships that await her, than have to face the likes of men with the potential for violence.
This is a book where frankly not much happens. It's a girl just trying to stay alive, not only in her own body but in her mind too. Being confronted with the wilderness in all its vast never-ending glory and its unforgiving nature, leads her to really think about the meaning of life, of nature, of faith.
I previously sort of enjoyed Matrix by Groff (I thought the writing was exceptional but the story lost its way quite quickly) but this was a whole other level above for me.
To be honest, I haven't really stopped thinking about it since.
It's dark and it's grim and it's bleak, and it won't be for everyone, but god I loved it.
I have to admit.. I love stories of surviving in the wilderness, and I love exploring the history of the New World era - the colonisation of America at Jamestown. So really, this is a perfect book for me.
The story follows a young servant girl who flees a colonial settlement, straight out into the wilderness. She would rather face all the dangers of the unknown beasts and hardships that await her, than have to face the likes of men with the potential for violence.
This is a book where frankly not much happens. It's a girl just trying to stay alive, not only in her own body but in her mind too. Being confronted with the wilderness in all its vast never-ending glory and its unforgiving nature, leads her to really think about the meaning of life, of nature, of faith.
I previously sort of enjoyed Matrix by Groff (I thought the writing was exceptional but the story lost its way quite quickly) but this was a whole other level above for me.
To be honest, I haven't really stopped thinking about it since.
December 24, 2023
Begins with a young girl running away from her home. Fifty pages later she's still running. Running to stand still it feels like. This is historical fiction without any history. Dystopian fiction without any dystopia. Mostly it felt like an experiment in creative writing. As if it began as a short story - which for me it should have remained - and was fattened up like a Christmas turkey. I really like Lauren Groff but the two books of hers I haven't liked have both gone back into history for their subject matter. My feeling is she ought to stick to writing about contemporary life. At times this read like a girl scout's guide to surviving in the wild. I also had the feeling she had been reading too much Cormac McCarthy as her prose style with all its religious grandeur resembled his. A disappointment for me. It kind of proves that what makes people interesting is their interactions with other people. Only writers of genius can write a compelling novel of unremitting solitude.
March 9, 2023
I struggle with rating books like this because, while Lauren Groff is unquestionably one of the most talented writers working today, this book was a slog for me. The prose itself is incredible, but picking up the book felt like a homework assignment I was making myself finish. Much like Ottessa Moshfegh's Lapvona, though much less masochistic, it's a very bleak read.
Writing: 4 1/2 stars
Reading Experience: ???
Writing: 4 1/2 stars
Reading Experience: ???
February 26, 2024
‘She flew as fast as she could over the mud thinly frozen again in the chill night, into the wild dark woods, because what was behind her was far more deadly than whatever could lie ahead.’
Lauren Groff’s books are consistently great reads for me. And I mean consistently: this is the fifth book from her that I have read and the fifth one that I’ve rated four stars.
That batting average is telling. My ratings have never dropped below a four, but they have never risen to a five either. I love the evocative and dreamy nature of Groff’s prose; it has a headiness to it. Maybe inherent in this style—typically third person POV—is some aloofness as well, that gets in the way of a more emotional connection to her stories—something extra to tip it into five-star territory. That lovely prose, every sentence so polished, creates a gauzy veil over the action, softening the sharp edges, removing the sting.
This effect is most discordant in The Vaster Wilds: a dark, moody, bleak story, descriptive of all kinds of privation, brutality and violence, but told almost serenely. (The first signs of an illness: ‘Quietly, what bad seeds that had ridden in her blood since the settlement now flowered upon her skin’.) What begins as a survival tale evolves into a spiritual journey, ending on a transcendent note. It’s that ending, both for its message and for its beautiful imagery, that will stick with me for a long time. 4 stars (again).
Lauren Groff’s books are consistently great reads for me. And I mean consistently: this is the fifth book from her that I have read and the fifth one that I’ve rated four stars.
That batting average is telling. My ratings have never dropped below a four, but they have never risen to a five either. I love the evocative and dreamy nature of Groff’s prose; it has a headiness to it. Maybe inherent in this style—typically third person POV—is some aloofness as well, that gets in the way of a more emotional connection to her stories—something extra to tip it into five-star territory. That lovely prose, every sentence so polished, creates a gauzy veil over the action, softening the sharp edges, removing the sting.
This effect is most discordant in The Vaster Wilds: a dark, moody, bleak story, descriptive of all kinds of privation, brutality and violence, but told almost serenely. (The first signs of an illness: ‘Quietly, what bad seeds that had ridden in her blood since the settlement now flowered upon her skin’.) What begins as a survival tale evolves into a spiritual journey, ending on a transcendent note. It’s that ending, both for its message and for its beautiful imagery, that will stick with me for a long time. 4 stars (again).
September 27, 2023
Let me say first that I love Lauren Groff as a prose stylist. I think there are few people writing today whose language can soar the way Groff’s can, especially when she picks a setting and set of characters that give her the space to wield her amazing talent. Interestingly, I find her at her most powerful in her short stories – somehow these concentrate her sentence-level magic with her storytelling in a perfectly sized container.
I have also loved her novels: Matrix, Fates and Furies, The Monsters of Templeton, and Arcadia. These span settings both contemporary and historical, are well-peopled and interested in characters’ interactions with each other, and take place over decades (I think F&F might be a bit more limited in scope), even lifetimes. They give her a larger canvas on which to balance plot with character with the cinematic quality and potent imagery of her prose.
That said, I found The Vaster Wilds landed somewhere in the murky middle. Novel-length, its plot is thin and it is focused on a single character, the girl.
When I started TVW I was coming off a couple of books with more straightforward writing, and I was immediately swept away by the beauty of Groff’s language. In addition to her usual unique stylings, she also plays with cadence, word choice, and syntax in keeping with TVW’s 17th century setting. (She wrote an early draft in iambic pentameter – as one does, I guess, if one is Lauren Groff).
That sense of astonishment at Groff's writing talent lasted quite some time and gave a great deal of pleasure. I felt viscerally connected to the girl’s struggle to survive – her cold, her hunger, her physical and mental pain – as well as to the beauty and awe-inspiring abundance of the physical environment, and ultimately its indifference.
There is no sentimentality here – it is pure woman against nature stuff, very ‘red in tooth and claw.’ Other than in flashbacks, there is no interaction of any real significance between the girl and other human beings during her journey.
As base level as the girl’s physical torments and needs – food, water, shelter – so too is her emotional world reduced to the simplest elements: fear, anger, sorrow, loneliness. There is not much, if any, emotional or intellectual growth, and no deeper internality or self-insight beyond the girl’s religious musings – though she is described as intelligent beyond that expected from her lack of education and lowly status. The only person the girl shares her thoughts and feelings with is herself (in some cases these are interrogations of herself by herself embodied in objects around her, almost hallucinatory) – but I found this to be a built-in limitation to character development.
While the flashbacks, peppered throughout her journey, flesh out the life the girl lived and, eventually, what caused her to flee into the (vaster) wilds, the journey itself, with which we are centrally occupied, strangely doesn’t provide much forward momentum.
As a result, as powerful and beautiful as the language is, the story becomes – dare I say it – a bit monotonous.
I’m glad I read it but this one treads a little too close to being style over substance for me.
I have also loved her novels: Matrix, Fates and Furies, The Monsters of Templeton, and Arcadia. These span settings both contemporary and historical, are well-peopled and interested in characters’ interactions with each other, and take place over decades (I think F&F might be a bit more limited in scope), even lifetimes. They give her a larger canvas on which to balance plot with character with the cinematic quality and potent imagery of her prose.
That said, I found The Vaster Wilds landed somewhere in the murky middle. Novel-length, its plot is thin and it is focused on a single character, the girl.
When I started TVW I was coming off a couple of books with more straightforward writing, and I was immediately swept away by the beauty of Groff’s language. In addition to her usual unique stylings, she also plays with cadence, word choice, and syntax in keeping with TVW’s 17th century setting. (She wrote an early draft in iambic pentameter – as one does, I guess, if one is Lauren Groff).
That sense of astonishment at Groff's writing talent lasted quite some time and gave a great deal of pleasure. I felt viscerally connected to the girl’s struggle to survive – her cold, her hunger, her physical and mental pain – as well as to the beauty and awe-inspiring abundance of the physical environment, and ultimately its indifference.
There is no sentimentality here – it is pure woman against nature stuff, very ‘red in tooth and claw.’ Other than in flashbacks, there is no interaction of any real significance between the girl and other human beings during her journey.
As base level as the girl’s physical torments and needs – food, water, shelter – so too is her emotional world reduced to the simplest elements: fear, anger, sorrow, loneliness. There is not much, if any, emotional or intellectual growth, and no deeper internality or self-insight beyond the girl’s religious musings – though she is described as intelligent beyond that expected from her lack of education and lowly status. The only person the girl shares her thoughts and feelings with is herself (in some cases these are interrogations of herself by herself embodied in objects around her, almost hallucinatory) – but I found this to be a built-in limitation to character development.
While the flashbacks, peppered throughout her journey, flesh out the life the girl lived and, eventually, what caused her to flee into the (vaster) wilds, the journey itself, with which we are centrally occupied, strangely doesn’t provide much forward momentum.
As a result, as powerful and beautiful as the language is, the story becomes – dare I say it – a bit monotonous.
I’m glad I read it but this one treads a little too close to being style over substance for me.
February 18, 2024
One can always depend on Lauren Groff to change it all up with each book she publishes. During the pandemic of 2020, Groff turned her attention to Marie de France, a cloistered prioress in a remote twelfth century convent France. It was at that time, she realized that she liked writing historical fiction and has decided to write a trilogy of different periods of history all from the perspective of a woman. And so we have the second book in the trilogy, The Vaster Wilds, a story of a young girl who has fled the early Jamestown colony in the seventeenth century. At the time Jamestown was suffering from smallpox, famine, disease, pestilence, and many other social ills. We only know her as the girl although she is thought to be about sixteen or seventeen years old at the time as she flees into the vast wilderness with a sack containing a pewter cup she had stolen and her few precious things: the two thick and warm brown coverlets, the biting hatchet, the knife and the flint. She grew up in a London poorhouse where the nuns called her Lamentations because her mother was a prostitute. At age four years of age, she came to the Jamestown colony as the servant to a woman who called her Zed. Her survival skills are incredible as she designs makeshift shelters from rocks and hollow trees with her blankets. She feeds herself on fish and eggs and berries when she can, as well as wood grubs if need be. As the trek continues, I found myself lapsing into a rhythm of the girl's journey. And as the girl travels on, the beautiful and haunting prose takes on a dreamlike quality, often bordering on the sublime. We begin to slowly learn more about the girl's past as the story evolves. This is a book of oppositions between wild and tame, forest and settlements, humans and beasts that often take on new meaning. The Vaster Wilds is a testament to the struggle for survival of an individual and a hymn to the endurance of an individual as well as a very spiritual book. What can I say, it was intense, it was raw, and it was beautiful. It is a book that I won't soon forget..
"And she did not turn back to look upon the gleam of the fort's fires as they painted up the night sky above in red."
"She had learned the lesson of only forward movement from the wife of Lot, who had glanced backward once as she was fleeing the destruction of sodom and by her weakness and the wrath of god had been transformed to a pillar of salt."
October 3, 2023
this was a book full of pointless wanderings, lots of bowel and bladder movements, and fake-deep contemplations resulting in idiotic conclusions. the main character had all the personality of rancid flour, and her deductions about God were the mind-rantings of a madwoman.
content warnings: many bowel movements, many bladder movements, disease, death, cannibalism, sexual references, rape reference, brief but vague sex scene
content warnings: many bowel movements, many bladder movements, disease, death, cannibalism, sexual references, rape reference, brief but vague sex scene
November 1, 2023
’The moon hid itself behind the clouds. The wind spat an icy snow at angles.
In the tall black wall of the palisade, through a slit too seeming thin for human passage, the girl climbed into the great and terrible wilderness.
Over her face she wore a hood drawn low, and she was slight, both bony and childish small, but the famine had stripped her down yet starker, to root and string and fiber and sinew. Even so starved, and blinded by the dark, she was quick. She scrabbled upright, stumbled with her first step, nearly fell, but caught herself and began to run, going fast over the frozen ruts of the field and all the stalks of dead corn that had come up in the summer already sooty and fruitless and stunted with blight.’
’The wind passed, even as it is passing now, over all the people who find themselves so dulled by the concerns of their own bodies and their own hungers that they cannot stop for a moment to feel its goodness as it brushes against them. And feel it now, so soft, so eternal, this wind against your good and living skin.’
’Into the night the girl ran and ran, and the cold and the dark and the wilderness and her fear and the depth of her losses, all things together, dwindled the self she had once known down to nothing.
A nothing is no thing, a nothing is a thing with no past.
It was also true that with no past, the girl thought, a nothing could be free. ‘
This is the story of this young woman’s journey as she sees the death of so many in the household where she is tasked with caring for the youngest member of the family, until there is no need, and then she is forced to care for the eldest on his deathbed. She steals a pair of boots off the son whose death was recent, some gloves and a cloak off the mistress, and leaves.
This is the story of a life, and a journey to find a place to call home, of both beauty and danger along the way. A journey of finding a place where one feels safe and secure, even as she travels alone through the wilderness. Always having to be more careful, and once she leaves, she has left behind any of those who have offered her even the smallest of gestures, food, water, a roof over her head.
This is a story of a life, how the only one she loved, and who she believed loved her is gone, and how she navigates her life in the years that follow.
’The world, the girl knew, was worse than savage, the world was unmoved.
It did not care, it could not care, what happened to her, not one bit.’
She was a mote, a speck, a floating windborne fleck of dust.
A beautifully written story, an ode to Nature, and the solace found there.
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