I've been seeing a lot of negative reviews for this book, and while I can agree with much of the criticism, I think this book suffers from a severe case of mismarketing.

Liquid is not a love story. At least, not in a traditional sense of romantic love. Rather, it's an exploration of identity, purpose, reckoning with cultural ties, and the multitude of ways in which we seek human connection. As someone who went into the book with little expectation of romance, I think I had a more positive reading experience. The protagonist is insufferable; there's no way around it. She is cynical and advantageous and wrapped up in a world of her own troubles. Sure, she is unlikeable, but she's one of the most human protagonists I've encountered in a while. I found myself rooting for her and oddly charmed by her antics. Taken in a purely fictional lens, the idea of going on 100 dates to secure a perfect marriage was entertaining to read.

The real highlight of the book, in my opinion, is the second half. I almost feel like I've read two books merged into one; the second half alone is why I've bumped up my rating.

The unnamed protagonist travels to Tehran to say goodbye to her ailing father. What follows is an exploration of visceral grief, trying to reconnect with a parent, one alive and one dead, and a return to herself after the aimlessness that drives her through most of the story. I agree that the tonal shift is abrupt and an unexpected narrative decision. In the real world, death and grief often function that way, coming out of nowhere to upend a steady rhythm. While the two halves of the story could have been better connected, maybe some foreshadowing in the early half, I understand the decision. The second half of the book makes the story feel so much more grounded and recontextualizes some of the main character's behavior, in retrospect.

My only major critique is that the ending felt rather predictable, and I didn't particularly care for her relationship with Adam. That being said, I thought their friendship (and everything implied to follow) was well-written and their connection never felt forced.

Rahmani's prose is beautiful and sharp. I can understand why it may be off-putting for some readers; her academic background shines through, but every sentence feels deliberate. I like that she took it a step further to explore language itself and what we lose in translation during the protagonist's time in Iran.

This is not a book for everyone, but it was, unexpectedly, one for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Hachette Audio for this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

I just couldn't get into the plot of this book and sadly had to DNF it after 30%. Some of the early chapters were very witty but it wasn't enough to fully capture my attention and keep reading.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the chance to read this ARC.

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House UK for the advance reader copy.

I’ve been sitting with this book for a while and can never seem to properly get into it. There’s a lot written down and yet I don’t think there was anything actually said.

Unfortunately not for me, but I hope others enjoy it.

After a few slow reads, Liquid reminded me what it's like when you can't put a book down!
Liquid is what would happen if Elif Batuman's The Idiot had a baby with Bridget Jones' Diary and Sanam Mahloudji's The Persians, and that book-baby decided to have a brat summer. Which is to say, this is not a romance, but it is a voice-y, tongue-in-cheek literary novel with love story elements. Which is to say, it was exactly my thing.
Our (anonymous) protagonist is struggling in the post-PhD job market, which means she has her fair share of pretentious moments, but I greatly enjoyed my time with her. I felt for her so much that I kept forgetting I didn’t know her name – she’s not always sympathetic, but you can tell that she’s trying to figure it out in a world where she feels absolutely left behind. The gradual reveal of her issues with her parents is so satisfying and layered, and it really set up the second half of the novel for success.
As the blurb itself says, this is a novel told in two halves. While the first half is what brings the messy, brat summer element that I mentioned, it is the second half where I found the story’s emotional core and some of the main character’s most compelling moments. There’s quite a tonal shift between these halves, but I found that I didn’t mind that much. The ending was so satisfying, and it felt like it came at the right time – even maybe a little quickly.
Also, I loved Adam, the protagonist’s long-time best friend. He was so sweet and I was rooting for him from the beginning!

Liquid is unlike anything I’ve read in a long time. Mariam Rahmani has written something daring, intimate, and deeply layered — a novel that doesn’t just invite you into its world, but fully immerses you in it. From the very first page, I could tell this was going to be something special.

The story moves in ways that feel fluid, both in form and feeling. It explores identity, belonging, language, and desire in a way that’s both cerebral and visceral. There’s a quiet intensity to Rahmani’s writing, like she’s constantly asking what it means to exist in between categories — between countries, between selves, between truths.

Reading Liquid felt less like following a plot and more like being pulled into a current. It’s thoughtful and sometimes disorienting, but in a way that feels intentional and meaningful. It challenges you, not through shock, but through nuance. I found myself pausing often, not because I was confused, but because the writing demanded a moment of reflection.

This is a book for readers who are open to ambiguity and interested in stories that ask questions more than they offer answers. It’s lyrical, bold, and full of emotional honesty. If you're looking for something that stretches the boundaries of the novel while still staying emotionally grounded, Liquid is absolutely worth your time.

I felt like I was reading about myself in these pages! This was a messy book and the FMC had me by the throat. I enjoyed it.

Poetic and lyrical. It really had me going in the first half, but I felt the book was a little disjointed. I am always eager to read books with an "unlikeable narrator" but I felt this was a little difficult to warm to, even for me. Maybe this just wasn't the book for me. However, it is undeniable how simply gorgeous the writing is.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my digital ARC of Liquid! A chaos bisexual, freshly minted with a PHD but no teaching prospects and armed with a spreadsheet seeks a rich spouse. But when a personal tragedy takes her to Tehran with her mother, her plans go awry. I really enjoyed this book, the narrator (unnamed) is witty, sharp, self-aware, apathetic - I can see her dividing readers, but I personally couldn’t get enough of her.
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I definitely preferred the vibe of the first half, the narrator’s dating escapades were hilarious, and pretty tragic in their own rights. The second half, where she travels to Tehran, was also interesting and engaging, but also had the feel of a slightly different book. The narrator is Indian-Iranian, and I appreciated the commentary on how her mother, an Indian woman, is treated in Iran. I also loved the little peek into the underground queer community in Tehran.
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I feel like it lost a little steam towards the end, lost a bit of its vibrancy. But still overall, thoroughly enjoyable!

I enjoyed reading Liquid - I liked the author's descriptions of LA and Iran and the general vibe of the book. However, I can see why people wouldn't enjoy it, as the tonal shift between both parts is a bit sudden. Overall I would read more by Mariam in the future!

Liquid by Mariam Rahmani was like eating a pomegranate. I thought I’d picked up something simple – maybe even sweet. But the surface cracked, and suddenly it was a mess of seeds, blood and bitter pith. It stained my fingers. It’s still lingering. This isn’t a book you consume cleanly – and you’re not supposed to.

This is a quiet collapse. A story driven by longing, cultural dissonance, and identity dissolution. The narrator isn’t screaming – she's disappearing. And it’s devastating.

After finishing her PhD, out unnamed protagonist is left with no academic prospects and one seemingly viable option: “just marry rich.” She’s gone from writing about companionate marriage – the modern dream of marrying someone you like, being both friends and lovers – to considering her own marriage as a contract, not a connection.

Rahmani masterfully explores sexual power dynamics, internalized submission, and the blurry, uncomfortable space between desire and coercion. Every layer of this book is conflicted and deeply gendered. “Everyone has someone to fetishize or oppress...”

And what about Adam?

There is no dramatic unravelling – just a slow painful, and potent erosion. Liquid doesn’t offer catharsis or resolution. It lingers in ambiguity, aching slowness, and intellectual-rot energy. A heavy, gorgeously written debut – perfect for the weird girls who read with a highlighter in hand, and dress their best when they’re depressed.

Thank you to NetGalley and DoubleDayUK for sending me the ARC in exchange for my honest thoughts.

This was definitely a book of two halves, and for me the first half was stronger. I understand the tone shift as big changes were happening in our MCs life but overall I just enjoyed reading about the dates more than the MCs overall life. I can appreciate however how wonderful the writing is, and how fluidly it flows, even if I did find it above my head at times.

In Liquid , our unnamed American-Iranian narrator embarks on a wild, BachelorX-style dating initiative, aiming to fit in 100 first dates within 103 days. With a fresh PhD in hand and brimming with intellect, she poses many provocative questions, including: “What was marriage but tenure?” She crafts a plan: stack first rounds like office hour appointments, narrow down to a few finalists by early August, and then devote the final 40 days to serious courtship with Mr., Ms., or Mx. Right.

As we follow her on a series of often comical and revealing dates—ranging from martini-sipping with the lazy heir of a construction empire to navigating board games with a butch producer—there’s an undercurrent of tension as we witness the deterioration of her friendship with Adam, who is tangled in his own obsessive relationship with his ex, Julia.

When her father falls ill, she travels to Tehran. There, she meets Leili, whose candid questioning of the narrator’s choice to remain in the shadows of her heritage leads to profound moments of introspection: “Leaving only makes you small,” Leili tells her, leaving our narrator grappling with her sense of belonging.

Amid this whirlwind, she gains what feels like a modern-day version of Virginia Woolf’s ‘room of one’s own.’ Yet, the question remains: will she find what she seeks by the 100th date? Or will her long-held prejudice against the friends-to-lovers trope—viewed by her as unimaginative—come back to haunt her?

Mariam Rahmani’s Liquid is a fresh, thought-provoking take on romance that defies conventional narratives. It blends personal struggle, cultural identity, and relational dynamics, serving as a backdrop for deeper explorations of societal expectations and self-discovery. Rahmani skilfully weaves humour with critical commentary challenging norms related to love and marriage, particularly within the rich context of her Iranian heritage. Although it can be somewhat verbose at times, this is forgivable as it aligns with the protagonist's PhD-level intellect. Her candid insights on gender and sexuality engage with broader postcolonial critiques, prompting reflections on alienation, desire, and the paradox of belonging. Each date becomes a multifaceted exploration of self and others, pushing the narrator toward personal growth while dissecting the ingrained beliefs that accompany love and the institution of marriage.

Liquid is not your typical romance; it’s like ‘Sex In The City’ reimagined through the lens of an American-Iranian PhD student, researching the complexities of modern love and identity. An exciting and intricate dance between the personal and the political.

Thanks to Netgalley & Random House UK, Transworld Publishers | Doubleday for the arc

The MC in this books decides one day that she just fancies marrying rich and leaving academia behind. So she goes about it in the best way she knows how... data.

Unfortunately I did not finish this book, I stopped at 22%. I didn't get on with the writing style which was very verbose.

I think this book would be for you if you have struggled through a career in academia, there's probably a lot of relatability there! Or if you live in LA.

I didn't get on with this at all and found it really difficult to finish. The author uses incredibly dense imagery to say nothing: it's like she's trying to cram a social observation into every sentence, but none of them felt unique or fleshed-out (eg 'After a plate of kanpachi crudo, plus fries and a bread basket; after another up-and-down to check he hadn't misjudged my waist size; after the immense relief of a trip to the bathroom; and after the closing of the tabs-mine as light as the foam on that first sour, which through the sparkly tulle of my intoxication now seemed so far away-we left'). Her tab is as light as the foam on her drink? What does this add in a sentence this long?

I think this is just a matter of preference and style: clearly this isn't for me, but I'm sure it will find its readership.

Sounds extremely attractive on paper, but ultimately it wasn't the book for me. I think it's more a stylistic and tonal issue, most likely. I couldn't get through the entire text. Can't possibly rate this one but leaving it as a 2-star only because there I can't give it a zero.

3.5/4

A book of two halves for me.

The narrator of Liquid is a young LA-based, Iranian/Indian academic who finds herself, after years of study and academic success, without a job, running out of money and her rent due.

Friend, Adam, is full of helpful hints but little else as his own on again/off again relationship implodes once more. So the academic (unnamed throughout) decides the only way out of poverty is to marry rich and so decides on having 100 dates to achieve her aim.

Unfortunately before she can find Mr Right a tragedy forces her back to Tehran where the consequences force her to rethink her whole strategy.

I'm afraid the thing that drew me to this novel, ie the idea of taking a dispassionate view of love in order to land the perfect mate, was the part I found least interesting. I realise that the protagonist is an academic but parts of the first half of the novel felt like I was reading a dull dissertation.

For me, the novel only came alive when she finds herself in Tehran where she reconnects with her heritage and begins to understand her father's homeland and people more.

I realise the juxtaposition may be deliberate but I almost stopped reading until I got to the second half. I'm very glad I didn't because it saved the book for me. The end itself was a little predictable but none the worse for that.

An interesting novel and I'd recommend it to anyone interested in different cultures. I'd definitely be interested in any future novels by Mariam Rahmani.

Thankyou to Netgalley and Random House for the advance review copy.

Liquid explores the complex loves we have with figures in our lives; parental, friendly, romantic and self love. Each exploration demonstrates how different loves exhibit in a variety of ways, many of which we may never realise until it is much later down the line, and may never get to let the other person know that we finally see the love they have for each other.

There are some moments where I feel it is assumed every reader would know and understand what some of the cultural references are - this did lead to some web searches on my behalf. Having said this, the respect shown to the different cultures explored in this novel, reads like a love story itself....maybe this is the message behind the book that some people may have missed upon their reading and understanding of the novel.

There are some pockets of really great writing in Liquid, but in some areas I wish Rahmani had taken their exploration even further to allow me to connect with some characters on a more deeper level.

Overall, this was a pleasant read and would absolutely recommend it to others. Thank you to the publishers for a advanced copy of Liquid.

This book was not as I expected it to be, but I really enjoyed it regardless. Beautuifully lyrical, poignant, and humurous in parts. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the advance reader copy

this book was sharp and intelligent but also soft and vulnerable. alot like our main character. we follow her journey( and i mean in the proper sense not the way its currently "used") shes not a perfect character. but she is real. and reading her story felt so. it was light and shade in all the right place. it was about grief and growing. it was about what we think we want and what we think we need. and how that changes. and also how it is often forged out of a society that isnt really always out to help us in our best interests. so when you are brave. when you really become your own, wow then freedom can truly come. and so might happines?
the main character at first starts off thinking she knows the answer to happiness. or to coping with life at least is to marry rich. and so she dates and dates and dates to do so. but all is not well in the people she meets. and you could say this is because she isnt ACTUALLY going after what she wants or needs. not really. not for the true safety and happiness of life. she also has a few other complexities in life to deal with. not least with her mother.
then when her tragedy occurs she finds herself off to a different place and different culture altogether. meeting all new ways of life and characters but also something that was perhaps there all along. the complete swing change in the book is completely realistic. because what happens to her father was showed brilliantly by that swing in the book. a heart attack does that. it implodes and changes and moves everything you do and think forever. life is so full of fear, angst, changes and compromise. its heart breaking but also brings a huge realization of love and who you are. or certainly bring clarity. it also brings such strength in the relationship that stay with you or walk alongside you as you manage.
the character doesnt come to some newness. she isnt a different happy ending change or person. and why should she be. but she might have more about her that gives her the answers she does need. the answers she can give herself. and a calmness that comes from going something saw raw and life bending that suddenly things do and dont fall into place. and for not at least that is all you could wish for. a settling after such traumatic and heart aching times.
i appreciated this book for its honesty. its was life in all its shades. and though i can exactly relate to some of the subject matter or personal issues she faces. i could relate to so much of it. for simply being human.

The teller of this story is a young woman born in America with an Iranian father and Indian mother. She has a PHD which she thought would lead to further opportunities but two years on, she’s barely scraping together a living from teaching and she is single with no romantic prospects. She decides on a new plan…to marry rich. Her internet dating has varied success and she doesn’t make much progress with her plan. But when her father gets sick, she goes back to his homeland and ends up looking afresh at her life.

The above may make this book sound like a run of the mill chick lit but it definitely didn’t feel like it. There is a lot covered, from racism, to poverty, to family relationships and friendships. I really appreciated a couple of things about the book. Firstly, that the author didn’t treat the readers as stupid (i.e. they didn’t feel the need to explain theories and ideas). It did mean I had to concentrate quite hard at times but that’s not a bad thing. Secondly, I appreciated the LGBTQ+ aspects of the story being included but as if it was normal (which is how it should be in real life!).

But at times I still struggled to connect with the characters enough to feel emotion when the big moments in the book happened. And at times the story felt a bit disjointed with the style the narrator used to tell the story.

But overall I did enjoy the book and would give it 3.5/5 if I could! Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read this book.