This book feels like being gently taken by the hand by Robin Hobb and starting a nice, leisurely hike through beautiful forests and fields on a breathtaking, misty morning in the warm autumn sun; walking on medieval streets through medieval towns next to medieval castles, meeting fascinating people and animals along the way. There are always things happening at a distance and you don't really know what to make of it, but Hobb just walkes with you and you don't worry too much and get to take everything in as if it is your first time seeing and experiencing the world around you.

And the hike stretches on and the sun climbs higher, and while it stays unhurried, you start to pay more attention to the happenings in the distance - they start to feel important and also a bit scary and unsettling - but Hobb keeps walking, slowly but steadily and with every step you're starting to understand you're on a long, winding path that’s more than it seems.

By the time the sun sets, you've climbed higher than you realised, and suddenly you're on top of a mountain. You look back at the trail you've taken and all the years you've experienced and as you turn around--Hobb pushes you off the edge and in that split second, everything clicks into place and you’re racing down the mountain as fast as a runaway wheel of cheese and everything happens at the same time and suddenly makes so much sense and when you finally reach the bottom of the mountain you feel completely wrecked but in a good way

🙂👍

The feelings I have right now are possibly the most complicated feelings I've ever had about a book. I found this book beautiful with gorgeous prose, deep emotion, and an exploration of family in all its forms, which all made me cry multiple times; in fact, I'm not sure I've ever cried this much throughout a book. Damoff's prose and ability to reach into the reader's heart is incredible. I also viscerally hated parts of this book and never want to tell certain people that I enjoyed this book else they never shut up about how I should get married and have a child as soon as possible if I found this so beautiful.

I enjoyed how complex this book was, from what love looks like when someone isn't showing up to the fact that addicts are humans who experience grief and loss as much as the rest of us, to the long-lasting effects of grief. I also didn't think almost any of the issues were addressed fully by the narrative. Though we spent enough time with each character for me to sob my way through the book, we didn't spend enough time with each issue and especially not with the intricacies of healing and how non-linear that is. Because of that, grief, love, addiction, forgiveness, etc. did not feel fully explored. We stopped short of a conclusion every time and occasionally the narrative pointed to conclusions that made me very uncomfortable.

Additionally, the last third of the book, while still emotional and written with beautiful prose, felt cheap and rushed to me. Whereas parts one and two brought me into the world of the characters, part three felt like a summary of what would have been said if we were supposed to be in the world of the characters. On top of that, the way that children seemed ultimately to be the solution to everything for everyone was not an enjoyable feeling for me. If I were a different person, I think many of these issues wouldn't have felt so viscerally uncomfortable to me, but I am myself and so alongside the sobbing, I felt like running the hell away from this book.

Overall, if you're a lover of family dramas, you may love this book. But personally, I've had one too many uncomfortable conversations about marriage, one's responsibilities within a marriage, and having children to make this a hit for me.