I wanted to love this book, but I just hated some of the characters and just wanted more. The premise was good, and some parts were more enjoyable than others, but wasn’t a slam dunk.

Wow. Nicola Kraus has written a stunning, yet heartbreaking story of how childhood trauma develops into generational trauma. As a retired Social Worker, I found this story to be very emotional and quite realistic. Thanks #NetGalley

This book was a wild ride. An Epic about how lies and control change a family through the lens of a mother and daughter (and occasionally others), this story has it all but in the weirdest ways possible. Its been a little bit and I still don't quite know how to digest this one.

#arc
#netgalley
#thebestaecouldhopefor

This rating is not very accurate since I have to give a rating every tho I dnfed it.
I just couldn’t finish reading this book as I’ve tried multiple times to pick it but couldn’t keep my attention for long enough..

2.5 stars, rounded down, just because I'm not feeling overly generous with this one.

This book was just okay for me. I didn't connect with any of the characters and found them to be spoiled and irritating. The writing was overly pretentious throughout - I consider myself to be a relatively intelligent person, but I needed a dictionary and thesaurus to understand a lot of the writing (or I would have if I actually cared to understand it). I was never able to let myself go and just enjoy the book - there was too much work involved. I found myself connecting with Linden and Sage toward the last quarter of the book or so, but by then it was really too late; I had reached the point where I simply wanted to finish the book. I found it interesting that the author said it took her 8 years to finish; I can relate and feel her pain.

It's the 1970s - Jayne and her sister Bunny have been raised in an environment of privilege, however they both harbour unhappy childhood memories. Bunny, sad and broken, runs away from home whereas Jayne marries and builds a solid and stable life.

Several years later, Bunny returns with her children to reconnect with Jayne. Jayne and her husband Rodger are soon forced to care for Bunny's three children, when she abandons them with her sister. As the years pass without a word from Bunny, Jayne provides for and loves the children, while Rodger's writing career flourishes. Jayne and Rodger eventually add a child of their own to their growing family and life seems good. But after almost 10 years, Bunny returns and it seems it's not only her children that she wants. Both sisters make choices that impact on the entire family which is irreparably damaged. As adults, Jayne and Bunny's children try to understand what occurred between their mothers that destroyed their family.

A powerful story about family secrets, the destructive effect of intergenerational trauma and the path to healing. The characters are drawn in a believable and empathetic manner and the writer handles the sad and difficult storyline sensitively. I did however struggle a little with 2 aspects:
- the changing in POV was confusing and unclear at times
- the narrative wasn't consistent throughout the book but I wonder whether this was due to the fact that the book was written over an extended period of time. It almost felt like 2 voices

Thank you to NetGalley and Little A for the opportunity to read and review this book.

I have read and loved Nicole Krauss's work in the past, but this one didn't really click with me. The characters didn't feel fully "real".

This book is full of so many betrayals, and the whole thing kind of made me uneasy… Something was off. Something was really unsettling in the writing and plot.

I feel like I was constantly stuck on what was happening—the story was going in too many directions, and everything transpired so fast. I can’t quite see the vision the author had for this…

Overall, this was a quick, short read. Did I enjoy it? No. Truthfully, it’s not even worth a rating, let alone a review, but whatever!

NO hate to the author EVER! This just wasn’t the right read for me.

0.5 ★

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙉𝙚𝙩𝙂𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙍𝘾.

This was not at all what I was expecting from the (co)author of The Nannie Diaries. I was expecting a more commercial family story but what I got was a very sad and emotional story of a family’s generational trauma and its repercussions. I don’t entirely love the writing style; there were a lot of places where it seemed wordy and trying too hard. I read over many sentences trying to figure out what the heck the odd metaphors were trying to express. It’s very hard to like the characters but there was a certain point towards the end where I understood them. I can’t say very much without ruining the revelations near the end but somehow I had never picked up on the unspoken clues. There’s a lot that wasn’t said in the earlier portions of the story but knowing the end and considering how past generations handled trauma, it makes sense. Some weird writing aside, I ended up really liking this.

This is a story about two sisters. One sister leaves her kids with the other and this is the story about them and their kids navigating through life. It wasn't an easy life and most of the time it was about all the bad in their lives, not a lot of hope. It was chaotically written, plots going nowhere and plots changing without warning.

There should be trigger warning at the beginning just so sensitive readers can have a heads up.

Thank you Netgalley and Little A for the arc.

The Best We Could Hope For happens to be very little in this dark, disturbing family drama by Nicola Kraus. Told in two different timelines by mother and daughter narrators, this novel details the horror of generational trauma and devastating choices. Jayne and her sister Bunny are raised by two cold unemotional parents, both children and victims of the same. Jayne escapes to college and marries Rodger, a famous reporter and novelist. When Bunny is a teenager, she runs away from home and has three children. Then she visits Jayne and leaves the children with her. Jayne raises them and has two children of her own. The stress caused by the end of her marriage causes Jayne to make a devastating decision that will destroy her blended family.

Dread and sadness fill the pages of The Best We Can Hope For. From the first chapters, we know something is wrong and slowly sense what is happening. As the children grow up, they begin to share experiences to discover what really happened in their fractured family. Kraus writes with sureness and sympathy and gives each character so much depth that you can understand their actions. She leaves you wishing you could find that place, the place where life started to go bad, and change the ending. 5 stars.

Thank you to NetGalley, Little A and Nicola Kraus for this ARC.

I loved this novel by Nicola Kraus. Historical fiction is my favorite genre. About an era that was rough for women and the challenging choices we have to make. Family relationship novel. I highly recommend!

I loved the story line so much! This is a emotionally rich book that draws in the reader with well defined characters and the promise of family drama. However, the different perspectives made it difficult to follow the story some times. I had to go back and keep checking who knows what to follow the story. I would still give this one a solid 3.5 stars though, 4 to round up.

This is a deeply introspective novel that takes a heavy look at generational trauma, fractured relationships, and the long-lasting impact of silence - but at times, it felt like the story struggled under the weight of its own ambition.

The core premise is powerful - two sisters on completely different paths, one bound by expectation and the other chasing freedom, colliding in a moment that changes everything. There’s a rawness to the betrayal that unfolds, and the emotional fallout, especially where the children are concerned, is handled with real weight. There are flashes of brilliance in how the book explores memory, identity, and the murky legacy of inherited pain.

That said, the narrative often felt chaotic. I found myself occasionally lost in the timeline shifts, and while the writing is undeniably thoughtful, the structure didn’t always serve the story. Some sections lingered too long on certain threads, while others, particularly the lives of the other siblings, felt underdeveloped. It left me with a sense of missed potential - there was so much more depth that could’ve been explored, especially across both timelines.

The tone remained relentlessly heavy throughout, which made it hard to stay emotionally connected in parts. Without moments of light or contrast, it sometimes felt like I was wading through the same emotional terrain on repeat, just from slightly different angles. The twist near the end is impactful and reframes much of what came before, but I wish that same clarity had been applied more evenly across the book.

This is one for readers who gravitate toward layered, slow-burn literary fiction and aren’t afraid to sit in the darker corners of family dynamics. It’s a haunting, ambitious read, but one that, for me, left a few too many questions unanswered.

This was a hard book to get through. First it felt very wordy. Everything was over explained, except for the things that should have had more attention paid to them, like Brian being biracial.

All in all this book just fell flat for me.

The Best We Could Hope For by Nicola Kraus is a family drama told in 2 timelines. Bunny walks away from her family and leaves her children to be raised by her sister, Jayne. 10 years later, Bunny reappears and everything turns upside down. This story, while a good family drama, is a very heavy read. I won't say I enjoyed this one, BUT it was a good read. Just make sure you're in the mood for a heavy read.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. The Best We Could Hope For is available now.

Generational trauma and dysfunction, whew. Some very hard to read things. About midway through, I had to go back and read the first chapter again. It felt overwritten and I lost a bit of the plot in it when I first read it. Thanks to Netgalley for the free advanced copy in exchange for an honest review

Nicola Kraus invites us into a sisterly, parent/child story with THE BEST WE COULD HOPE FOR.

IN 1972 Barbara (Bunny) left her young children with her sister Jayne and walked away. Jayne and her husband, Rodger did everything they could to raise the children in an ideal family. But when Bunny returns after 10 years, she wreaks havoc in Jayne’s life and those of the children. As Jayne struggles to keep her family unit intact, Bunny seems determined to fragment it. As it was always older sister, Jayne’s job to protect Bunny, she tries to understand why Bunny ran away at 16 and then why she ran again years later. But when the truths are revealed, would she have been better off never knowing? When we think of consequences, we usually think of lies, but you can have them with truth also.

Told in dual timelines, we see how/why decisions were made, hearts broken and how a family slowly falls apart. As a solo debut, I felt it was very well written. Clear and concise, it was a very enjoyable read that touched on some very sensitive topics with dignity and grace. I will certainly be looking forward to seeing where Ms Kraus takes me next.

Thank you to NetGalley and Little A for this ARC opportunity. All opinions are my own and given voluntarily.

The Best We Could Hope For is a heavy, emotionally layered story about the ways trauma ripples through generations and how silence — even when well-intentioned — can leave deep, confusing wounds.

The novel follows two sisters who take drastically different paths: one adheres to societal expectations, becoming a wife and mother, while the other breaks away, choosing chaos and freedom. When the wild Bunny returns and a forbidden love blooms between her and her sister’s husband, things spiral in a way that feels inevitable but still gut-wrenching. The fallout, especially for the children, is where the heart of the story really lies.

One thread that hit hard was how trauma can be misremembered, misplaced, or misunderstood — and how that confusion shapes identity. Without spoilers, the twist near the end reframes so much of the pain in a chilling way. There’s a psychological nuance to how memory and trauma play out here, especially in how one generation’s silence creates fractures in the next.

That said, I struggled with the tone. The sadness never quite let up. Every chapter carried a sense of dread, and while the writing was thoughtful and the mystery compelling, I found myself wishing for at least one moment of joy, connection, or lightness. Just something to breathe in. The emotional payoff was there — it just came late, and it came heavy.

This book would definitely resonate with readers who love complex family dynamics, literary fiction with deep psychological undertones, and stories that explore the long shadows trauma can cast. If you’re in the mood for something haunting and sad but rich with meaning, this one’s for you.

Nicola Kraus delivers a powerful, emotionally intense exploration of generational trauma. I love a character-driven family saga, and this one spans from the 1970s to the 2010s, highlighting the lasting impact of family secrets and unresolved pain. There’s nothing particularly heartwarming here—just raw, damaged people doing the best they can with what they were given. And somehow, I couldn’t stop listening.

What really hit me was how clearly the novel shows emotional silence as a kind of legacy—especially in a time when therapy wasn’t widely accepted or accessible. These characters feel heartbreakingly real, and while they often frustrate me, I hope they can at least find some peace and happiness.

🎧Narration Note: Helen Laser is a true voice actress. She brings depth to this complex, often painful story. Even when I disliked certain characters—especially Jayne—Laser’s narration helped me understand them with greater empathy. I love how she draws you fully into the Donoghue world, navigating its emotional messiness and long-buried secrets with remarkable grace and sensitivity.