A sparingly written account of terminal illness and its effects on the people around. The discomfort of facing this immortality in others and oneself. Despite the sensitive topic, this book is funny and perceptive and I would recommend it to others.

Thank you to Virago/Little Brown Book Group for approving me to read 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 by Sigrid Nunez on Netgalley.
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𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀. 𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼: 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱, 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱, 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲.
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What You Are Going Through is a very poignant and moving book, and felt like a very honest commentary on life and death.
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𝗗𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲— 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴?
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The story is told from the perspective of a female writer who is navigating typical, mediocre moments in life - such as travelling, running into an ex, and interacting with an Airbnb host - to navigating unusual and challenging moments in her life, including caring for a friend with terminal cancer.
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𝗣𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿. 𝗔 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗺, 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻, 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻— 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁?—𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵. 𝗪𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱. 𝗔 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.
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As with a lot of literary novels, there are some very real reflections on life, and given the circumstances, there is a fair amount of gallows humour.
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𝗜 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘄𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘆, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗻𝗼 𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.
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Following the friend's diagnosis, she asks the narrator something that none of us hope to be asked - namely to be there with her when she decides to end her own life.
The two friends subsequently embark on journey to a holiday home, and get to know each other more - perhaps better than anyone else they've known in life now that all falsehoods and pretenses have been dropped.
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𝘄𝗲’𝗱 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗵 , 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘁. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀. (𝗧𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁.) 𝗔𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗜 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝘇𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴— 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁.
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The narrator's friend (and at times the narrator) challenges the reader with some uncomfortable truths in their lives, that could easily be reflected in our own lives. People who in some senses wasted their time in unhappy relationships, on people they didn't get on with, and on negative family dynamics that were not worth the time and energy invested.
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𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘀, 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗺 𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹, 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗰𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗲𝗻𝗱 : 𝗧𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗵. 𝗧𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗯𝘆𝗲.
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The book itself is very timely, and self-reflective. It comments on it's own content matter and on modern events, including how ingesting too much mainstream news can lead to increasing worry and paranoia.
I also like how the book challenges certain perceptions, namely those surrounding 'women's literature', which is often promoted as only being of interest to women, which isn't and shouldn't be the case.
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𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱, 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁, 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝗲𝘀. 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻, 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲, 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀
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Ultimately though, What Are You Going Through felt to me like a reflection on love. After all, supporting someone with a terminal diagnosis and caring for them at their most vulnerable truly is an act of love for that person.
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𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱: 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹.
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There are so many other things that happen in this novel, and so much more I could say, but this review is probably long enough... So before you lose interest I would just say I'd highly recommend What Are You Going Through to all readers who enjoy literary fiction, and would definitely read more by Sigrid Nunez.

I found this book very interesting to read. It's quiet and the writing is deceptively simple, as there's a lot more beneath the surface. Asking tough about life and death, and what is right and what is wrong, I found that it It sparked many deeper trains of thought. Not always a comfortable read, but clever and thought-provoking.

I did a video review of this book, see link below.
Basically, a powerful and important read, and while I didn't exactly enjoy the experience of reading it, I thought it was an excellent book. I was glad to have experienced it.

This strong piece of fiction has a plot more true to life as we live it than the storyline of more typical novels. Sigrid Nunez has chosen to write about the kinds of thoughts about life and death that we all have but rarely talk about. I found kernels of wisdom and thought provoking ideas on nearly every page. My only disappointment was that there isn't much of an ending. The story just stops.

This truly extraordinary novel is an equal parts heart-breaking and heart-warming, tragic and comedic look at later life in all its forms, Centered around an unnamed female narrator, we follow her through a series of encounters - friends, lovers, Air BnB proprietors, all of which at first seem normal quotidian encounters. However, as the small, but perfectly form, narrative unfurls, the relationships become more complex, more challenging and in most cases, ultimately more rewarding.
The key relationship for me, was with a friend currently nearing the end of her life, and who is looking for help with ending things before they become too unbearable. Their fascinating interactions were for me the main hook in this book, although the supporting cast was also outstanding. Thinking about the fragility of the human existence is always a demanding task, and Nunez subtly introduces topics that sent my brain fizzing out in all directions.
This book was touching, thought-provoking, heart-breaking, soul-poking, funny, weird, and a whole world of other emotions. It was also my first foray into the work of Sigrid Nunez, so now I have a new favourite author to get to know better. Hugely recommended. This book will touch your soul.

This book is stylistically similar to Nunez's novel The Friend.
Quite a melancholic book on interactions between people and coming to the end of life. Nunez is depicting real thoughts and ideas, which are often hidden and not talked about.
The characters and interactions are very true to life and relatable.
I can imagine it can be difficult to get into this book, but for me it was a fast read, feeling like I want to go back and re-read it. Nunez has a very inquisitive and likeable voice. An excellent read! 4.5/5

I loved this weird potpourri of encounters the protagonist tells us about. There is no clear storyline, but the different stories are loosely connected, so it didn't feel all to fragmental. The book is wholly narrated through the protagonists' eyes, so it's really more like a well narrated stream of consciousness. All the stories the narrator/protagonist tells us circle around death and mortality, which I really liked, since I enjoy books about this kind of topic. All in all this book cured my reading slump and was really fun to read!

I read this during a bit of a reading slump and struggled to really engage with the story, so fear that I would grade this significantly lower than if read at a different time. I won't be reviewing on any retail sites, as I dont think it would be fair.

A beautiful yet funny book about death, which shows you that no matter what happens in life, death is inevitable.

This is told as a first person narrative, and you really feel like you’re in the narrators head. The narration is like hearing her stream of consciousness, which is the best way to view it as the book does go on some tangents sometimes, just as we do!

I would highly recommend to anyone, a relatively quick read but also a beautiful and thought provoking one.

Thank you NetGalley for an ARC in return for an honest review.

This is a really good book but it took some time to figure it out. I was lost the first 50 pages then I caught on and it was great .. probably me and not the book.

A rather maudlin but powerful observation of human connections with enough feminist themes to keep my interest. Although there wasn't much of a plot to begin with I found it enthralling all the same - rather than a timeline or a recount of tangible events, this book starts with a series of encounters dissected and reflected upon by the narrator. It could almost be a work of non-fiction which is to say the writing is credibly authentic.

The first part reads like a stream of consciousness and took some time to adapt to; it is a running commentary of the narrator's thoughts as she comes to the main event. After this, the writing takes on a more typical feel and becomes more of the story one would expect. All this together makes for a unique and interesting read.

I was also impressed with the thought-provoking sub-plot of humanity's self-inflicted demise. The book as a whole feels so much bigger than its 210 pages, I've certainly come away from it with many questions and reflections, but in the best way.

I was unable to read this title as it did not appear to be formatted for my Kindle - I'm not sure whether the problem's at my end or not, but I'll look into it!

What Are You Going Through brings award-winning writer Sigrid Nunez’s singular voice to a story about the meaning of life and death, and the value of companionship. A woman describes a series of encounters she has with various people in the ordinary course of her life: an ex she runs into by chance at a public forum, an Airbnb owner unsure how to interact with her guests, a stranger who seeks help comforting his elderly mother, a friend of her youth now hospitalized with terminal cancer. In each of these people the woman finds a common need: the urge to talk about themselves and to have an audience to their experiences. The narrator orchestrates this chorus of voices for the most part as a passive listener, until one of them makes an extraordinary request, drawing her into an intense and transformative experience of her own.

This is a beautiful, power and emotionally intelligent story in which Nunez brings wisdom, humor, and insight about human connection and the changing nature of relationships in our times. A surprising story about empathy and the unusual ways one person can help another through hardship, her book offers a moving and provocative portrait of the way we live now. Books rarely make me shed a tear but the sheer languid and lyrical nature of the prose managed to impact me in such a moving way. This is a life-affirming novella and despite its short length, it packs a powerful punch with memorable characters and a never less than compelling plot. Sharply observed and perceiving the beauty in all of life's delights, Nunez punctuates the dark sections with black humour which can be a welcome relief at times. A stunning read. Many thanks to Virago for an ARC.

This was a very powerful, emotional, and beautiful book about the bonds of friendship. I loved the writing style and have to admit, this book really got to me. I usually only get sad about animals, but Nunez made me feel something for people. Well done!

A novel in conversations, Sigrid Nunez's follow-up to The Friend offers a provocative insight into the nature of relationships and human connections. The unnamed narrator is enlisted by her terminally ill friend to assist her in committing suicide. The novel is short, sharp, interspersed with dark humour, often feels more like an essay than a work of fiction- glides through chapters that explore the largest of themes: the realities of living and dying in this world. But it isn't only about death and dying, The novel circles global warming and it impacts on our future generations, the trauma of ageing for women, parent-child relationships, the political climate, and the moral implications of euthanasia. It prompts you to think about your place in this world, what it means to have empathy for others and what you can offer to end someone else's suffering.
“The love of our neighbours in all its fullness simply means being able to say to him, ‘What are you going through?’”

It is sort of depressing, especially considering our current predicament, but the delightful cat monologue makes up for it!

Thank you Netgalley and Little, Brown Book Group UK for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review

This auto-fictional novel from National Award Winner Sigrid Nunez centres around the title’s question: What are you going through?

Written from the perspective of an unnamed narrator who may or may not be Nunez herself, the novel sits itself uncomfortably within the auto-fictional genre that includes writers like Rachel Cusk and Sheila Heti. The genre itself is, by its nature, somewhat unstable, but What Are You Going Through never feels fully committed to that instability. The novel flits between what the narrator is currently doing and seemingly unconnected memories, digressing to the extent that it is hard to remember exactly where we were before, and to follow the narrator’s increasingly irrelevant trains of thought.

This is compounded by the novel’s style, which dry and verging on academic, incorporating quotations and paraphrases from thinkers from Ingeborg Bachmann to Simone Weil. However, Nunez simultaneously satirises this, with the narrator’s best friend disliking “what she called the vandalising streak in contemporary fiction” (which Nunez herself practices), and describing reading ‘bad stuff’: “I keep wanting to say, Why are you telling me this?”

That last question resonated with me whilst reading this book, as so much of it felt completely irrelevant. The novel’s central focus is on a friend of the narrator’s who is dying from cancer. We learn about her background, her tense relationship with her daughter, and her unsuccessful rounds of chemotherapy; as the narrator visits her in hospital more and more frequently, we start to to hear her feelings about her situation, Nunez trying to give us a chance to understand what she’s going through.

The novel expands out to a more general preoccupation with death and dying, from a lecturer who is convinced that the planet is doomed, to the impact that ageing has, particularly on women.

The most valuable message that the book communicates is how and when we speak the truth, and the extend to which we listen when others talk to us (if we ever do truly listen). The narrator spends the majority of the book listening to and recounting conversations she has had or overheard. She tells a story of her friend attending group therapy, and of meeting an older woman who tells her own story of her cancer diagnosis and its impact on her marriage: the implication is that this woman has never revealed this to anyone before.

The narrator herself is constantly thinking something, but not saying it, demonstrating just how much of what every person is going through we just do not and cannot know. The novel is trying to represent the iceberg, both the small tip visible above the water, and the mass underneath. Unfortunately, the novel didn’t manage to portray this effectively, leaving me cold and somewhat frustrated by the end.

This book is trying to do too much, too simply, and with an overly confident style that jars uncomfortably with its dark subject matter.

I could tell you very little about the narrator of this book, though I feel as though I have been inside her head - immersed in books read, films watched, people met, memories made. It’s a hard one to review, this: I can tell you that I loved it, although nothing really happened. The word that springs to mind is “mundane”, but not as a criticism. Sigrid Nunez has an incredible voice, and it’s one that’s going to haunt me for a long time.

What Are You Going Through was one of those novels that demanded your full attention, required thought, but most importantly examined what friendship means to us and just how far we would go to help them.

Our narrator, was nameless, we didn’t know an awful lot about her, only that she was visiting a dying friend, a wonderful ploy by Nunez, as it intrigued, I wanted to know more about her, wanted to know what made her tick and the actions that she subsequently undertook.

The first part of the novel felt like Nunez was laying the foundations, of framing our narrator, of her place and understanding of current society. We learnt she was single, divorced, still spoke to her ex husband, relied on his counsel, her thoughts on religion, on the society she currently found herself in. We also learnt how she met her dying friend, the course of their relationship that perhaps made her subsequent decision surprising. But then again perhaps it wasn’t, as Nunez gave her a feeling of loneliness, a lack of purpose, of aimless drifting.

The second part of the novel, was less of an examination of wide society as it became more personal, as Nunez explored the dynamics of a friendship, one in unusual circumstances, but one that was rooted in the simple things in life, of walks, discussion and movies. You read, as a sense of happiness engulfed our narrator, as she relished the companionship, even if the thought that her friend could end her life at any moment lingered in the background.

Yet as we all know friendships can change, and as Nunez shifted the dynamics, our narrator had to dig that little bit deeper in to her own psyche to understand what was happening, how to let go and how to move forward. As her friends condition deteriorated so did their relationship, as their talks became less frequent, as her friend retreated within herself, perhaps preparing for the inevitable her thoughts turning to herself. You wondered why our nameless protagonist remained, why she endured what appeared to be rejection, until you realised that it had given her life structure, purpose, that in a bizarre kind of way she was happy, happier than she had ever been.

What Are you Going Through was considered, thoughtful and wonderfully written, an author that I will be exploring a little it more in the future.

What Are You Going Through is a book that will likely divide opinion to some extent. I can imagine some readers wondering quite what the point of it might be, and at times I too asked that myself. It meanders – perhaps a bit like life – and the three sections incorporate a range of viewpoints and literary style. I read each of the three parts in one sitting apiece, over the course of about a week, and the effect was pleasantly beguiling, a bit like visiting an old friend to continue the slightly rambling tale being told from earlier.

Sigrid Nunez is an author I've encountered before (I read 'The Last of Her Kind' and 'For Rouenna' years ago, thanks to an American friend who recommended her; until recently I think Nunez was practically unknown in the UK) and had enjoyed these more than sufficiently to want to read this latest one. (Unlike several other reviewers, I haven't yet got round to reading her previous book, The Friend, though I plan to). I actually consider her a great modern writer, unshowy, honest, someone who emotionally cuts to the chase with sparing, empathetic prose that – for me at least, with this latest book – really blurs the boundaries between author and narrator. There's no reason for me to think that parts of the book, or even the whole thing, are true – that's what great authors do, they create utterly plausible stories – yet the tang of authenticity for me at various points was so strong, I really struggled not to regard it as edging into autofiction or meta-literature (or whatever the correct term is). This isn't a criticism in any way, the book is thoughtful, intellectually reflective, full of cultural references and I suppose I'm trying to convey the flavour of its tone – it's not action-packed or narratively-driven, but instead ruminative, moving and elegiac for lives lived (and not lived).

In sum, I enjoyed it a lot. (I also thoroughly endorse The Last of Her Kind, which is far more of a traditional narrative). WAYGT is not a light or cheerful read, but I found it to be a rewarding and positive one and would certainly recommend it to anyone interested in a honest, stimulating depiction of life coming to an end - as all lives eventually will, sooner or later, whether we like it or not!

With thanks to NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an unbiased review.