I received a copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

As a former drama major and theatre director, as well as someone with a chronic illness/chronic pain I was excited to receive this book to review. Unfortunately , the stream of consciousness writing style , the absolute deluge of inner monologue of the main character did not appeal to me.

It was pitched as a black comedy but I didn’t find much humour in this book. Mostly it was a descent into madness. I was looking forward to twists and turns of the rehearsal and performance , but really it stayed focused on the inner psyche of Miranda and that was a let down for me.

Ultimately , this book wasn’t the book I wanted it to be and the ending was abrupt and confusing.

Awad has a very unique voice, and this book was another addition of interesting works she has released.

As with her other books, I found this captivating and hard to read through at the same time. I find her work almost indescribable. It stays with you for a long time.

Thank you to the publisher and to NetGalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Wow! I enjoyed Mona Awad's Bunny, so I've had All's Well on my list of books I want to read since I heard it was coming out and this book definitely lived up to my expectations.

The book focuses on Miranda Fitch, an actor forced into teaching after falling off the stage left her with chronic pain. I worried at the start of the book that Miranda's suffering, both physical and emotional, would end up tedious because I wasn't seeing much of Awad's biting wit, which is what I'd enjoyed in Bunny. I should have trusted Awad, though, and while I'm not sure this book has quite the teeth that Bunny did, the wit is certainly there, and I think overall that I enjoyed All's Well more.

What I like most about All's Well is how Awad uses the theatre. Literally, the story centres around a college theatre production, but it seems that Awad uses the stage figuratively to explore issues like female power and aging. Miranda wants to stage All's Well That Ends Well, while her student cast would prefer to do MacBeth. It's been ages since I've read MacBeth, and I have never read All's Well That Ends Well, but it's clear that Awad alludes to these two texts, and it seems like she explores the contrast of Helena and Lady MacBeth to look at the roles women are afforded in society. I think more familiarity with the two plays would likely further enrich a reading of Awad's All's Well, but it is still an accessible and interesting read without that background knowledge.

I've seen quotations from Margaret Atwood praising this book, and I feel like this book reminds me a bit of The Edible Woman. The stories are very different, but there is a similar feeling. Both books use illness to explore the female experience and use elements of the surreal in an otherwise realistic setting, and both are incisive and funny. Just as Atwood's writing feels smart, so too does Awad's. Overall, All's Well is a sharp and fun book that I would highly recommend.

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House Canada for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Mona Awad has crafted a well written book that is instantly relatable to any woman who has been ignored and treated as less important by the medical profession.
It is so relatable, in fact, that reading the book is both fascinating and uncomfortable. There is a sad undercurrent that runs throughout the book, and that undercurrent brings out strongly negative emotions of frustration, anger, pain, and helplessness. The reader is definitely drawn in to the struggles of the main character, and as such understands the elation she experiences when she is freed of pain, and the decisions she makes to get there.
All's Well is definitely a book that pulls you in and keeps you reading to the very end, leaving you with a melancholy feeling at the end.

Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Random House Canada for the review copy!

Oh man I loved this book! It was dark academia meets Shakespeare mixed with a little humour (and dark humour) that made for this magical, mystical, disorienting, dark, fantastical tale. I was completely bewildered by this story the whole time, I even started thinking about it when I wasn't reading it - always a sign of a good book. I really saw myself in Miranda at times and often, even when she was in the wrong or acting a little suspicious, I still found myself on her side because I had empathized so much with her to start with. I really loved this book and I wish I had more articulate things to say about it but I'm so grateful I got to read this early and I can't wait to read more of Awad's work and pick myself up a copy of this!

All’s Well wasn’t a favourite read for me. I found myself struggling to continue reading but I persevered to the end. I did, however, appreciate Mona Awad’s theatrical references and the descriptive writing. I sincerely hope that there aren’t too many Miranda Fitch professors looming in our post secondary systems.
Thank you to Penguin Random House Canada and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this ARC.

This was not what I expected.
I could not finish it.
It did not live up the blurb.
Perhaps others will enjoy it.

Miranda Fitch was a rising star of live theatre when a tumble from the stage left her with debilitating chronic pain that an endless string of surgeons, physiotherapists, and alternative healers have been unable to alleviate. No longer physically able to perform, at the suggestion of her (now ex) husband, Miranda applied to become a Professor at a small New England college (where her duties include teaching three Drama courses per semester and directing the annual Shakespeare play), and five years into this job, Miranda’s pain is crippling, she has alienated herself from the few friends she had made, and her students neither respect or trust her. When Miranda decides to mount All’s Well That Ends Well as this year’s production (the “problem play” in which she herself had once shone in the role of Helen at the Edinburgh Fringe) — despite the students insisting it would be more fun to do “the Scottish Play” — Miranda will be forced into a battle of wills against privileged students, scheming faculty, and obtuse administration; a battle her broken body and sapped spirit are not up for. But all of that is just the opening premise.

All’s Well seems set in the same surreal universe as Mona Awad’s last novel, Bunny — the decrepit campus, the cliquey students, the possibility for magic — and for all the reasons that I loved the former, I loved this one, too. My brain sizzled with frisson as I read this; Awad writes straight to the pleasure centres of my own brain (and I will preemptively and whole-heartedly acknowledge that this is a highly personal aesthetic experience; this won’t work for everyone). Further, Awad elevates this beyond a purely pleasurable reading experience by using this fantastical storyline to examine feminist issues: a woman’s power linked to her health and beauty; the jealousies and cattiness that cause women to subvert one another; the male-dominated health care system that tells women their problems are in their heads if they can’t fix them. And I should note that Awad isn’t pushy with these themes: Miranda is filled with self-pity, you can see why people shrink from her, and for all we know, her problems are all in her head; but that doesn’t make her less human or less worthy of empathy.

Shakespearian themes abound: Three hunched figures offer a potion, a ballad, a meaningful touch and Miranda seems cured of her phantom pains. The plot goes from curious to curiouser, but no matter how surreal the circumstances become, Awad uses the events to explore women’s experiences in a way that felt entirely truthful and relatable. I loved the whole thing.

All’s Well is a dark and twisty unraveling of female pain and the power dynamics between the sick and the healthy.

Miranda Fitch is our bitter, unreliable narrator whose life has unwound after a fall from the stage left her with chronic pain. With her marriage over and her career hanging by a thread, Miranda floats through life with the help of pills, booze and a deep hatred of her healthy, able-bodied young students.

Awad explores how women are treated with pity and revulsion when they express their sickness, pain or vulnerability past the point that deems them still fuckable. She also looks at how misogyny plays into women’s invisibility within the health system, including the frustration of not being heard by your doctor — an experience many women can relate to.

Reading the climax of this novel felt a lot like watching the climax of I’m Thinking of Ending Things with its frantic pace and blurred reality. The ending is something to be chewed on, which might frustrate those who prefer a concrete finale. I found Bunny funnier and more fun, but Awad’s singular voice made this well worth the read.