What do readers think of Fatherland by Victoria Shorr? Write your own review.

Having read FATHERLAND, I intend to read earlier novels written by this author. The book is nicely paced, but I was hooked on the story by the first two chapters where it becomes clear what the father had in mind.

This is a family saga which at its heart explores the effects of a father's abandonment of is family, Essentially, the book is about how a doctor's three children are impacted by the father's decision to leave their mother and them for another woman. The story is mostly seen through the eyes of Josie, one of his children.

As one would expect, the father (Henry) is very selfish when he leaves his wife (Lara) and his kids. However, the father's perspective is shared even though most readers probably couldn't support what he is doing.

The book was hard to put down; it was a fast read.
Having read FATHERLAND, I intend to read earlier novels written by this author. The book is nicely paced, but I was hooked on the story by the first two chapters where it becomes clear what the father had in mind.

This is a family saga which at its heart explores the effects of a father's abandonment of is family, Essentially, the book is about how a doctor's three children are impacted by the father's decision to leave their mother and them for another woman. The story is mostly seen through the eyes of Josie, one of his children.

As one would expect, the father (Henry) is very selfish when he leaves his wife (Lara) and his kids. However, the father's perspective is shared even though most readers probably couldn't support what he is doing.

The book was hard to put down; it was a fast read.

This novel opened with compelling promise, drawing me into the story of a man who abruptly abandons his wife and their three children for a life with another woman. The story set the stage for a complex exploration of betrayal and the consequences felt as a result of it.

I found that the book falters in character development balance and sometimes relies on unbelievable behaviors, but it also delivers genuinely affecting scenes and thoughtful insights into the aftermath of familial betrayal. It's a story that left me both frustrated and moved, and one that will linger in my thoughts for its exploration of loss, resilience, and the long road to forgiveness after a lifetime of abandonment.

Despite any shortcomings, the novel succeeds in illustrating the far-reaching effects of abandonment and fractured family dynamics. As a reader, I found myself reflecting on the ways unresolved trauma can echo across generations. The author's depiction of Josie's resilience and the family's tentative steps to move forward resonated with me, prompting a deeper consideration of forgiveness and the complexities of human relationships.

Fatherland explores the effects of a father abandoning his family. Martin's, the father, method of doing this is so immature. He refuses to communicate with his wife. He just takes his belongs over a period of time and goes to live with his new pregnant girlfriend. Lora, the mother, acts like a doormat at the time. As the story progresses, Martin becomes more and more unlikable.

Lora however, comes into her own and steps up to make certain with the help of grandparents that the kids have a decent life growing up. Josie, the oldest daughter, is devastated by the abandonment of her father. The book explores how she handles this throughout her life. Fortunately Josie and her siblings move on as does Lora.
Martin continues to disappoint the children even as they become productive, responsible adults.

He promises them things but never, never sees those promises through.
By the end of the book, Josie has reconciled with her feelings about her father.

I did not understand the title of the book until 3/4 through. It was surprisingly written by a woman with her? what do you think about the author being female? who captured the insolence of a divorced father and the effects on all his children. If read by women going through similar situations it offers some understanding but I do not know if they could realize the ultimate outcome due to the current chaos that they are facing. I felt as though either the author or a very close friend had experienced this actual situation.

It was interesting to experience Lora's family support and her choice to move on. That should be encouraging to any woman and her support group. It might even allow her to look farther than herself for help.

This is a coming-of-age novel set in Ohio spanning about 30 years as a young girl deals with the loss of her father through divorce.

The novel has an eeriness to it as you read. It starts with creepy Martin Brier at a wedding plotting how he’ll remove his clothes from his house. He’s leaving his wife and three children for another woman and not planning on telling them. The book moves back and forth with different characters sharing their views through an omniscient narrator. The breakup of the family has a profound impact on Josie, the oldest child such that she has a lot of angst and ambivalence.

The book explores “fatherhood” and its impact on children. Martin is a most selfish, obnoxious and devious character. Everything revolves around him and his mean spiritedness knows no bounds. He is definitely not father of the year material. Jodie and Will experiences Martin in all his selfish splendor but manage to have successful lives because of their mother, Lora, who could have been fleshed out more, who manages to eventually find happiness.

I enjoyed this book. The narration really sparkles in its simplicity.

Thank you NetGalley and W.W. Norton and Company for allowing me access to this ARC.

The jacket copy mentions the author's "spare prose" and that is certainly true. There's a clarity to the writing and the plot unspools slowly and meanders a bit although it makes sense given that the focus is often on Josie (the daughter) and her development over an extended period of time, so the chapters are short vignettes. I sometimes found myself dropping in and out of engaging with the story and the characters. The most vivid characters are the peripheral ones, while central characters like Lora (the mother) and especially Martin (the wayward father) are flat and opaque. I'm not sure I would say I enjoyed it, but the author is a skilled at setting a scene and filling in details from multiple points of view. It was hard to connect with any of the characters, but given the story line, perhaps that was the point.

Set in the Midwest, this coming-of-age story follows Josie, her two brothers, and their mother as they try to build a life in the absence of their father, who left when they were very young. Lora struggles to keep her dignity and raise her children without their father's presence or any financial support from him.

The novel gives us deep access to the inner lives of Lora and Josie, providing the emotional depth needed to understand how each experiences the loss of a husband and a father. We also hear from Martin, the absent father, as he reckons with his choices—though I never felt his actions were justified. He comes across as a feckless husband and father. I especially appreciated how the author relies not on plot twists, but on quiet, well-chosen details to tell the story.

I appreciated how this story moves at a slow, deliberate pace, allowing the reader to sit with the characters' emotions and see how abandonment shapes them over time. Josie is the emotional heart of this quietly powerful and layered novel, which explores the long-lasting impact of deception on a family.

Shorr's writing style is realistic and restrained, making the family's pain and resilience feel believable and deeply human.

I also thought the cover art captured the story perfectly—it reflects the uncertainty of memory, the fading image of a father, and the hollow space left by his absence.

Thank you to BookBrowse for the ARC.

Victoria Shorr's Fatherland is a slender, deceptively swift novel whose modest length conceals a deep reservoir of emotional complexity. Set in mid-1950s Cleveland, the book initially presents a carefully burnished tableau of postwar domestic prosperity: Martin Brier, a successful physician; his devoted wife; and their three children ensconced on a leafy, respectable street. Yet this polished surface fractures abruptly when Martin abandons his family without warning, leaving not even a note behind—simply decamping to a new life with another woman. The shock of his departure reverberates outward, exposing the fragility of the American family ideal and the quiet endurance demanded of those left behind.

The novel's emotional center of gravity rests largely on the shoulders of Josie, the daughter, whose consciousness becomes the primary lens through which we experience the aftermath of abandonment. Shorr is particularly adept at rendering the ambivalence of a child caught between loyalty and rage, longing and self-protection. Josie's yearning for her father's return—despite his unforgivable betrayal—feels painfully authentic, as does her gradual recognition that love does not guarantee reciprocity. Some of the novel's most affecting moments unfold in silence and stillness: the children waiting outside in hope, scanning the street for a figure who never arrives; the mother's relentless, almost delusional faith that tomorrow might bring restoration. These quiet details accumulate into a powerful emotional reckoning.

The mother's character, with her almost willful self-effacement and determination to mold herself into whatever version of woman her husband desires, provokes understandable frustration. Her devotion—so emblematic of the era's constricting expectations for women—can feel infuriating, even tragic. Yet Shorr resists caricature, allowing us to witness the slow evolution of the family in Martin's absence. Over time, the mother hardens into a quieter strength, the sons detach, and Josie learns to sever emotional ties in order to survive, arriving at a state of reluctant sympathy for her father's diminished, almost pitiable circumstances. One wishes, however, that the novel lingered longer on the mother's interior life as she grows and changes; her late-stage resilience feels earned but underexplored.

Ultimately, Fatherland is a restrained, reflective novel that lingers long after its final page. It is less concerned with dramatic confrontation than with the slow, interior shifts that define how people endure loss and disappointment. Shorr offers a meditation on abandonment, gender roles, and the quiet recalibration of love when illusions collapse. It is a novel that rewards patience and contemplation, asking the reader to sit with discomfort rather than resolve it—and in doing so, captures something profoundly human.