This stellar novel that seems to have flown under the radar, which is a shame, because it deserves far more attention. Thoughtful, tender, and deeply resonant, this debut quietly delivers a powerful meditation on family, trauma, identity, and the enduring ripple effects of loss.

Set on Grosse Ile, an island just outside Detroit, the story follows the Armenian-American Kurkjian family—descendants of Gregor, a survivor of the Armenian Genocide who built a new life in the United States. The legacy of that original trauma lingers across generations, especially in the wake of a recent loss: the suicide of the family’s oldest daughter in Lake Michigan.

As each family member confronts their grief in different ways, Mrjoian’s prose—precise, emotional, and restrained—shines. The novel never veers into melodrama, instead crafting a quiet intensity that mirrors how real people process pain: imperfectly, privately, and with deep undercurrents that can go unspoken.

Mrjoian deftly balances multiple characters across the two family branches, giving each a clear and compelling voice. Their inner lives feel authentic, their relationships complicated yet familiar, and their struggles with memory, culture, and identity all the more poignant because they’re so specific. Woven throughout the modern narrative are spare yet impactful glimpses into Gregor’s harrowing past—offering context without overwhelming the present.

Waterline touches on the power of literature, the intergenerational impact of trauma, and the fragile ways relationships can both heal and perpetuate old wounds. Even as the characters carry the weight of their loved one's suicide and the trauma of the past, the novel ultimately suggests the possibility of renewal—of building something meaningful in the aftermath of heartbreak.

This is an elegantly written, emotionally layered novel that lingers long after the final page. I wholeheartedly recommend it.

I found this to be an intriguing story overall but found some disconnect between the historical story and the current timeline. I'm more used to seeing them weaved in more together. I did like the family dynamics and the writing here.

A compelling debut novel on the aftermath of grief intermingled with generational trauma. The storyline is based around a contemporary, close knit Armenian family whose ancestor Gregor Kurkijan fled the Armenian genocide and migrated to America. Now his great grand-daughter has committed suicide and the rest of the family i dealing with the aftermath. This is not a thriller or historical fiction about the genocide. It is a contemporary story of grief and family ties. Narrated from multiple points of view this is a family drama at heart. I liked the author's writing style. Overall it was a slow paced, easy read. The plot was very slow-moving and I would have liked to have a more drawn out connect between the past and present trauma of the family.

This is a beautifully written family story. I appreciated how Aram Mrjoian brought each character to life as we experience this tragedy from the perspective of each individual family member. I also was extremely moved by the way he wove the turmoil of Armenian history into how this Armenian-American family had built their identity and relationships. This story is an evocative story of how one close-knit family deals with grief after the death of one of them. I strongly recommend this to anyone who enjoys stories of families and emotional processing.

Content warnings: mention of suicide

Thank you to NetGalley and HarperVia for providing me with an eARC in return for my honest thoughts.

✨ Review ✨ Waterline by Aram Mrjoian; Narrated by Vikas Adam

Thanks to HarperVia, Harper Audio, and #netgalley for the gifted advanced copy/ies of this book!

One of my favorite books of the year so far!

This frames the book with the stories of Gregor, family patriarch, and his experience defending Musa Dagh and living through the Armenian genocide, anchoring the book in resistance and resilience.

The rest of the story moves between POVs of Gregor’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren, set in recent times in Grosse Ile, Michigan. The family discovers Mari, one of the great-grandchildren drowned in Lake Michigan, and her parents, aunt & uncle, and cousins must grapple with her death, their generational trauma, and what's happening in the world around them. I love these kind of overlapping, intersecting, fragmented stories told through multiple POVs.

This is filled with family drama, great writing, & themes of nature/water as the characters work through issues of grief and identity. I loved this book, and I thought it was so fantastically crafted. Even down to the symbolism of the cover, this was excellent all around!

🎧 I loved the narration of this book - I listened to the whole thing, and could barely put it down. I cruised through this in a day easily because the storytelling was so compelling.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Genre: literary fiction,
Setting: former Ottoman Empire, contemporary Grosse Ile, Michigan + Chicago, Milwaukee, Yellowstone, etc.
Length: 8 hours 18 minutes
Reminds me of: Middlesex
Pub Date: Jun 03 2025

Read this if you like:
⭕️ literary fiction
⭕️ books reflection on generational trauma
⭕️ Two Hearted beer
⭕️ stories of resistance and resilience

I came into this book somewhat not knowing what to expect, especially as there's been a noticeable lack of Armenian authors in publishing across the board. I really enjoyed how this book told us multiple stories about generational trauma in the Armenian context, and I felt like we were really dropped into these characters' worlds and the sadness they faced due to the events depicted in the book. I'll definitely be looking out for this author's future work!

Aram Mrjoian has written a wonderful contemporary novel about an extended Armenian-American family that struggles with the unexpected death of one couple's daughter and the other couple's niece. The two couples are neighbors, so everyone is well aware of how each family member is reacting to the loss. Woven throughout are references to the Armenian genocide, which hovers over the family history and influences the youngest generation. A solid read.

Waterline is a moving, multilayered portrait of generational grief and resilience. The story unfolds between past and present, weaving together the legacy of the Armenian Genocide with the quieter, more modern heartbreak of a family reeling after a tragic loss. It’s beautifully written—quietly powerful, with moments that linger. The exploration of inherited trauma and identity is unflinching without being heavy-handed. If you’re drawn to introspective family sagas that don’t shy away from pain or history, this one leaves a mark.

After having read Aline Ohanesian’s Orhan’s Inheritance about a decade ago when first published, I requested Aram Mrjoian’s Waterline as another novelist’s look at the Armenian genocide and its lasting impact on survivors and descendants.

Mrjoian opens his story with Gregor Kurkjian’s escape from Armenia, which functions as a prologue preceding Part One set in 2018. As Edgar, Gregor’s son, prepares food in the kitchen for a Fourth of July barbecue, his older brother/next-door neighbor Karo pounds on the door, delivering the devastating news that Karo and Hova’s daughter has drowned in the lake. Daughter Mari has been teaching in Chicago, her body found in lake Michigan, the exact cause of her drowning unknown. An only child, Mari Kurkjian leaves behind devastated immediate and extended family: parents Karo and Hova, aunt and uncle Edgar and Hannah, and cousins Ani, Talin, and Joseph, all living on Michigan’s Grosse Ile. Having grown up with each other, Edgar’s older daughter Ani has always considered Mari more an older sister than a cousin and determines to go forward with a cross- country trip she and Mari had been planning for years although with a somewhat different purpose now in mind. As a new school year soon begins, Edgar’s high school-age twins Talin and Joseph fear classmates’ reactions to the many online rumors circulating about Mari’s death.

Mrjoian tells the family story through the viewpoint of each family member, also including Karo and Edgar’s Armenian grandmother, Mara Bedrossian, as well as Mari Kurkjian, herself, on the day of her death.

Although most of the novel is set in present-day Michigan with Ani’s narrative set during her cross-country trip, one of Gregor’s three chapters and his wife Mara’s chapter are part of an Interlude between the novel’s Part One and Part Two

Mrjoian provided some new insights into the Armenian genocide, which continues to influence each of the characters’ lives. However, Talin’s chapter and most of Joseph’s two chapters focus more on teen life of parties, drugs, sex, and fighting which had this senior citizen thinking that enough is enough. The eventual plot return to family heritage and family strength enabled me to forgive the somewhat too stereotyped portrayal of all teenagers.

Thanks to NetGalley and HarperVia for an advance reader egalley of this recommended new look at the Armenian genocide and Armenian American family ties.

4 stars – Waterline, the debut novel for Aram Mrjoian, is a study of an Armenian American family reeling from the suicide of a young woman distraught by a scandal that has cost her job, her dignity, and her identity. Coping with her death are her parents, plus her uncle, aunt, and three cousins who live next door.

Throughout the novel, we learn about the family’s history. We admire Gregor Kurkjian’s valor at the defiant last stand on Musa Dagh during the Armenian genocide of 1915 at the hands of the Ottoman government. We see the sibling rivalry of Gregor’s grandsons, Karo and Edgar, who have continued to battle the demons of the family’s history and the expectations thrust upon them from preceding generations.

We ache for their children - Mari, Ani, Talin and Joseph - who are fighting their own battles of young adulthood in a modern, and often vicious, online society. All of the characters carry the weight of the past while facing the challenges of the present. And in doing so, the two families appear so close yet also seem so distant throughout Waterline.

Written with shifting character perspectives and timelines, the characters are distinctly and memorably presented and the ever-present themes of water and mountains are carried throughout. Not only is Musa Dagh always at top of mind, but the lakes take on their own personas. Without spoilers, suffice it to say I was slightly let down by the conclusion of the novel and its lack of commitment to closure on a few fronts. Regardless, this is a wonderful debut that is worthy of a read.

Thank you to HarperCollins for the ARC of this book through NetGalley and Edelweiss, which I received for my honest review. This book is available to the public on June 3, 2025.

#waterlinenovel #arammyjoian #netgalley #edelwiess #books #bookreview #bookreviewer #bookstagram #nerdventureswithbooks

*I received this book (via eARC from NetGalley) for free from the publisher (HarperVia) in exchange for an honest review*
As an Armenian-American myself, Waterline really struck a chord with me. The way Aram Mrjoian wove in themes of identity, inherited memory, and the long shadow of the Armenian Genocide was incredibly moving. The mention of The Forty Days of Musa Dagh caught me by surprise in the best way— its the small references which makes it more introspective and see things in a more deeper level. There’s something powerful about seeing the quiet details of your culture and history reflected on the page, and Mrjoian does it with so much care. Even something as small as a Detroit Red Wings poster or the hockey references made the characters feel real and familiar. Those little moments grounded the stories and made them even more compelling to read. The writing is soft and poetic, and the stories flow gently, sometimes blurring together but always carrying a quiet emotional weight. I gave it 4 stars because a few of the pieces felt a little too subtle for me to fully connect with, but overall this is a thoughtful and beautifully written collection. If you’re drawn to short fiction that explores cultural identity, grief, and family with quiet grace, this one is well worth picking up.

This was a very interesting book about a family and their past dramas that comeback. The writing was good as well as the character development.

A debut historical novel that takes us back briefly and rather tangentially to the Armenian genocide through Gregor Kurkjian, the patriarch of an Armenian-American family on the island of Gross Ile, Michigan. For the most part, the story is set in current day America. Gregor’s great-grand daughter Mari has committed suicide and the family has just received the devastating news. As the family comes together, we come to know each member of the family intimately - who they are, their emotions and thoughts, how they live their lives, and how each one is handling the trauma of Mari’s against the backdrop of the family’s ancestrial traumatic past during the Armenian genocide in 1915. The book is character driven rather than plot driven, which I did enjoy. The book was held together with the strand of family trauma hovering in the background, which for me, presented the contrast between the trauma of yesteryear that Gregor and his immediate family experienced in the early 20th century with the trauma that Mari experienced (apparently, I won’t say more here) in current day America and the way her immediate family handles the consequences. I liked the writing style and the book kept me engaged. It would have been great though if the historical part had been incorporated more in the more. Overall, a 3.5 star read , rounded up to 4 and I’m looking forward to the author’s next book.

The Kurkjians lot in life seems to be misery. The Kurkjians who survived the Armenian Genocide were haunted by their many losses. Their grandchildren struggle with alcohol abuse, infidelity, and loneliness. Their great-grandchildren also deal with substance abuse. Shortly before Aram Mrjoian’s diffuse novel, Waterline, opens, the family receive news that a beloved daughter and cousin has completed suicide. The news shatters the family, sending its members into a tailspin of grief, anger, and confusion.

Only a few of the chapters in Waterline are narrated by characters we’ve met before. There are also chapters set decades before Mari’s death. While the variety of settings and narrators helps fill in a portrait of the Kurkjians, this style of narration and the actions of the various characters felt more like linked stories than a novel with an overall plot arc. Hence, diffuse. Very few of the Kurkjians seek comfort from each other. Instead, the ones most lost to grief—Mari’s father, Karo, and her cousin, Ani—disappear. Karo crawls into a bottle of brandy while Ani takes some of Mari’s ashes on the road trip the pair had always planned. Ani’s parents, Edgar and Hannah, push themselves to try to “move on” and “return to normal.” Ani’s young siblings, Joe and Tal, turn to hedonism in the form of beer, weed, and (for Tal) sex.

To me, the most interesting characters (and, unfortunately for me, the ones who appear the least in these pages) are Gregor and Mara Kurkjian, who fled to the United States after escaping from the Ottoman Empire. Gregor would tell stories of Armenia, the resistance’s stand at Musa Dagh, and his family’s journey to America. His grandson, Karo, and great-grandchildren Mari and Joe, read Franz Werfel’s account of what happened, The Forty Days of Musa Dagh, as part of their efforts to learn more about what Gregor and Mara went through and what was lost during the Genocide. Readers looking for historical fiction about Armenians and the Armenian Genocide should look elsewhere; almost all of this book is set in Detroit in the 2000s.

Because the characters who take turns narrating Waterline are all, essentially, following their own paths, there isn’t much in the way of resolution to this novel. I strongly suggest approaching this book as linked stories, in which the various members of the Kurkjian try (and sometimes fail) to support each other, as well as remember their lost ones. As with any family, some characters will infuriate while others make you want to give them a hug through the pages. At least a few of the Kurkjians would benefit from talking to a therapist.

I was frustrated by this book, but I suspect it will provide a lot of material for book clubs to discuss.

Told through the perspectives of various family members, this book looks at the fallout from a current tragedy, the suicide of a beloved daughter, niece, and cousin, as well as the family's identity and fall out as descendants of Armenian refugees who survived a civil war. The family members live in a remote island in Michigan, and the two brothers are actually neighbors. Growing up, the children were close, and now that Mari has died, her death affects the teens and young adults in different ways.

I felt this was really well written and evocative, as I noticed how clearly the author wrote about the environment that shaped the characters and their heritage. I could tell he was writing from experience. My family still has connections to our immigrant past, and cousins are as close as siblings in many ways.

I think this was an interesting epic look at a family trying to survive. I loved the cover, and learning more about the characters, but ultimately this book was not for me.

This was an interesting book to read to learn more about the Armenian Genocide and the depth of generational trauma. It is a heavy read.
Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for access to this eARC.

Overall I enjoyed this book once I got more into the storyline. With the alternating stories it took me a little longer than usual to be invested but that’s often how I feel about alternating stories. It was a moving look a grief and tragedies and their impact on not just the current generation but future generations as well.

Few novels manage to weave historical trauma, generational grief, and the search for identity into a narrative as seamlessly as Waterline. From the first page, Mrjoian pulls the reader into the world of the Kurkjian family, where the weight of the past collides with the pain of the present in a profoundly moving way. Mari’s tragic decision to let the lake take her sets off a ripple effect that forces her loved ones to confront wounds buried deep within their family's history. The novel doesn’t shy away from the heavy themes of loss, silence, and inherited trauma. Instead, it embraces them, offering an unfiltered look at how history can shape and haunt descendants long after the initial tragedy has passed. Gregor’s survival of the Armenian Genocide feels like both a triumph and a shadow looming over his lineage—his story is as much a foundation for his family’s strength as it is a source of unspoken pain. What makes Waterline so striking is its ability to balance grief with resilience. The prose is lyrical yet unpretentious, carrying a raw emotional honesty that lingers well after the book is closed. Every character feels deeply human, flawed yet fiercely connected by their shared history and heartbreak.

Told in alternating voices of an intergenerational Michigan family, Waterline centers on the affect of one third-generation Armenian -American. Throughout, the affect of the family's understanding of their patriarch escaping the Armenian Genocide plays out through the generations, but the personalities and family dynamics also play a large part. Very well told in concise, beautiful writing.

An Armenian-American family copes with the suicide of their eldest daughter - a moving story of grief told from the viewpoints of multiple family members.