Not the tone I was craving, but this will be an incisive exploration of a toxic relationship for the right reader.

Adding this to my list of books that i will review whenever I feel that I want to get married! Sarah writes those characters that really crawl their way under your skin. I loved it.

Fine but repetitive. I have read Manguso's other book (Very Cold People) and enjoyed this one a bit more, particularly the writing. I enjoyed the structure of the book and felt like the characters were fairly developed even considering the more stream of consciousness style that the book had at parts. The issue that kept me from enjoying this more thoroughly was the repetitiveness of the story from beginning to end. I acknowledge that that's part of the point, here - a woman is trapped in a relationship that she is convinced is better than it is despite the same things happening over and over again for years. Even still, it became tiresome to read the same dynamic play out over a few hundred pages with little actual plot development of evolution.

I loved Sarah Manguso’s first two books and was excited to read this one. I enjoyed the almost vignette style writing and the way we experience bits of all the characters. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the ending and was looking for a more solid conclusion, but I appreciated the journey Manguso took us on through this very cutting glimpse of marriage.

Manguso's Liars hilariously chronicles a marriage so bad, you'll wonder if it's a horror novel disguised as literary fiction. You'll laugh at the dark absurdity of it all, while simultaneously thanking your lucky stars your own love life isn't quite so dramatic.

Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this book.

I've been following Sarah Manguso's writing for a long time and this is truly her crowning achievement. The inventiveness of her nonfiction works like an evolution here in a novel and it is exciting to witness.

This was my first novel by Sarah Manguso, which I requested on NetGalley after a friend recommended her debut, Very Cold People. The description—two artists in a marriage grappling with emotional difficulties—along with the intriguing title, really drew me in.

But the actual reading experience was disappointing. The book felt like a long list of complaints from a woman about her husband and her marriage. At first, I was morbidly curious, almost like watching an accident, trying to understand how these two people came together and what was keeping them tied to each other despite the lack of affection, love, or even basic respect. But after a while, it became repetitive and exhausting.

I struggled with both the writing style and the structure. The story didn’t unfold in a compelling way, and it didn’t offer the nuanced portrait of marriage I was expecting. Instead, it presented a relationship that seemed broken from the start—constant conflict, no tenderness, no redemption.

What really shifted my understanding of the book, though, was hearing Manguso on a podcast. She described traditional heteronormative marriage as a dynamic "between a husband and an abused victim." When the host gently pushed back, noting that while this may apply to the couple in the novel, it doesn’t represent all marriages, Manguso didn’t acknowledge the distinction.

That interview clarified a lot. If this book is meant as a reflection of Manguso’s broader view of marriage—as inherently abusive or oppressive—it explains why the relationship in the novel felt so hopeless and one-dimensional. But it also left me deeply unsettled. I’m not opposed to critical explorations of marriage, but to frame it entirely as an abusive institution, and then use that as the foundation for a bleak, baffling story, just didn’t work for me.

I wouldn’t recommend this book—unless you’re specifically interested in examining a deeply cynical, anti-marriage perspective. For me, it was not only unenjoyable but frustrating and, frankly, offensive in how reductive its view of relationships felt. No one has to get married—but if you're going to write about it, there should be space for complexity, not just condemnation.

Soooooo good. I finished this and immediately moved it to a more prominent location in our store so I could press it into more readers’ hands. So smart, so insightful, and made me think and feel in such a unique way. Bravo!

Perfectly depicted maternal and feminine rage on the page. I found myself thinking "just leave him already" at the beginning, and yet I think most hetero women would find this book deeply relatable, even if the circumstances of your particular relationship are mostly happy.

It starts with a simple premise and unspools into something much more intricate. Without relying on gimmicks, it manages to be both engaging and thought-provoking. You don’t just read it—you sit with it.

Unfortunately I was unable to download this book before the archive date, so I'm not able to leave a review. I look forward to reading and reviewing books by this author in the future.

I was quite taken by this book—the complexity of the character work was so well-done that I found myself underlining in the text, something I rarely do on Kindle! I also typically struggle with (mostly) unnamed protagonists, but felt it really worked here for the themes of self-deception and self-awareness. The author is very skilled at writing self-deception, which can be extremely tricky to do well. I found the pacing a bit slow at first, but after a longer reading session one day the building tension, character and plot really began to come together for me, and I've been thinking about the book since I finished. I will be returning to LIARS for a reread for sure!

Have you listened to "Labour" by Paris Paloma? Liars is the book version of that song. Jane and John get together with the agreement of putting their artistic careers as priorities. Jane was sure from an early age that she didn't want to get married, but everything changed when she met John. Soon after they get engaged and move in together, she becomes a housewife that puts aside her writing career to support John on his career that never seems to take off. She keeps house and acts like her personal assistant, even borrowing him money for his failed business endeavours and despite all this, she manages to write successful books and winning fellowships. John is infuriating, a textbook manchild, he lies, manipulates and belittles Jane repeatedly, barely appreciating everything she does for him. With all this, Jane gets pregnant and this is where I wanted to slap and hug Jane at the same time. Girl, what are you doing??? But listen, I've been there. I know what it is to be so in love that you put yourself and your dreams aside to support your partner. You think is an act of love but it's lowkey manipulation. And it's hard to get out of there. It's like a drug you are addicted to. And when you realize it, you grieve. Because you gave absolutely everything you had to give, and somehow it wasn't enough. I loved this book so much, it's a portrayal of emotional abuse that it's not talked enough of and makes it hard to recognize until you're deep into it. It's an important book, and as a reminder, don't ever abandon yourself for a man. If you already did, it's not too late to pick yourself up. You'll be alright.

This novel delves into the struggles of a woman caught in a suffocating, one-sided marriage, but it falls short in delivering its intended exploration of contradictory emotions within a relationship. The protagonist's internal conflict—claiming deep love for her husband while enduring his selfishness—never quite resonates, as the narrative relies too heavily on repetitive outbursts and vague references to emotional breakdowns. Though the book is undeniably engaging and easy to get through in one sitting, it ultimately leaves you searching for a deeper meaning or resolution that it never quite reaches.
Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC which I read in exchange for my honest review.

Masterfully murky meditation on marriage, identity, and the truths we tell ourselves. Creeping and insidious. Recommended!

It took me a bit to get used to the writing style in this book, but once I did it was really captivating and hard to put down. This book was also eerily similar to the movie Nightbitch, which I loved. Both the movie and this book fell apart a little at the end for me, but the book ended more in a way that I wish the movie had. I know the emotions around marriages are complicated but I didn't love how defeated Jane was when her husband left her when it felt like she had been contemplating leaving him for their entire relationship. I wish it had been more freeing for her.

This novel, while pretty well written, was just too relentless and sometimes over the top. I DNF’d around 3/4 of the way through because I got bored and couldn’t take it anymore.

Sharp, fast-paced, and deliciously infuriating. This book made me question marriage + the reliability of an autofiction narrator. The kind of book you want to talk about at dinner with friends + don't lend out for fear it won't end up back on your bookshelf.

I had a love/hate relationship with this book. There were moments where I really connected with the story and the way she and her husband interacted. Then there were the moments where she talked about her child in this almost detached way that made me not want to keep reading. I ultimately kept reading because I wanted to see what happened next and did feel slightly invested in the outcome but I am torn on if I would recommend this to anyone based on the writing style that just wasn’t a huge seller for me.

Thank you to Netgalley and the Publishing Company for this Advanced Readers Copy of Liars by Sarah Manguso!