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A review by chrissie_whitley
The Book of George by Kate Greathead
4.0
Kate Greathead’s The Book of George follows two decades in the life of George, a man whose endless potential is matched only by his knack for falling short. Through his relationships — with Jenny, his endlessly patient girlfriend, and his mother, who offers support despite her exasperation — George’s story unfolds with moments of wit and unexpected depth. Caught between self-awareness and self-sabotage, George’s journey offers a glimpse into the messiness of human connection and the challenge of living up to one’s own expectations.
I think the important thing isn’t that George is a man or that you might know a George. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Maybe *you* are a George, or maybe you’ll meet a George someday. Actually, I think this might be a misstep in the publisher’s summary of the book — the point isn’t about whether you know a George. The point is to see George as a person navigating our society…and examine society through that familiar and hopefully sympathetic but critical lens.
It’s about the expectations we place on ourselves around success — what it looks like, how it’s measured — and the idea of happiness, and whether it aligns with those expectations. Throughout the book, we see these little pockets of community that shape George’s journey: his family, his college buddies, his girlfriend, and then his family again. George is goofy but tender. The potential that he’s meant to have, is it something he genuinely sees brimming within himself, or is it the idea that’s placed there from others and societal expectations? Sure, he’s bumbling. Sure, he’s a little helpless. But he’s also earnest, caring, and tries so hard to figure things out, constantly self-analyzing. Isn’t that what we’re all doing, in some way?
The Book of George was quietly sharp, with funny moments generously peppered throughout and beautifully bridges the gap between lighter fare and heavier themes. It’s a story that lingers, and I found myself reflecting on the people we are and the people we might become — at any time in our lives.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
I think the important thing isn’t that George is a man or that you might know a George. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Maybe *you* are a George, or maybe you’ll meet a George someday. Actually, I think this might be a misstep in the publisher’s summary of the book — the point isn’t about whether you know a George. The point is to see George as a person navigating our society…and examine society through that familiar and hopefully sympathetic but critical lens.
It’s about the expectations we place on ourselves around success — what it looks like, how it’s measured — and the idea of happiness, and whether it aligns with those expectations. Throughout the book, we see these little pockets of community that shape George’s journey: his family, his college buddies, his girlfriend, and then his family again. George is goofy but tender. The potential that he’s meant to have, is it something he genuinely sees brimming within himself, or is it the idea that’s placed there from others and societal expectations? Sure, he’s bumbling. Sure, he’s a little helpless. But he’s also earnest, caring, and tries so hard to figure things out, constantly self-analyzing. Isn’t that what we’re all doing, in some way?
The Book of George was quietly sharp, with funny moments generously peppered throughout and beautifully bridges the gap between lighter fare and heavier themes. It’s a story that lingers, and I found myself reflecting on the people we are and the people we might become — at any time in our lives.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.