Brilliant, like all of Clune's work. Reviewed in full at the link.

In Pan, Clune doubly defamiliarizes the world: he describes panic in a new way, and he lets the reader experience how panic makes the world feel new. Not necessarily beautiful, and not necessarily frightening. Just new. But the point of a novel, as with any art, is that it is not reducible what it is about. The point of a novel is that it makes you have an experience.

Clune applies a Shklovskian kind of defamiliarization to certain experiences, in order to allow the reader to participate in them. The limit-experiences he chooses—heroin and panic, where the senses are heightened and the border between self and not-self gets porous—are excellent examples. I imagine that much of the critical response to this novel will center on how well it conveys what it is “really like” to have a panic attack. I submit that this is the wrong metric for evaluation. I think Clune’s broader point is this: all experience, no matter how common, is intransmissible. I have never tried heroin or had a panic attack. Clune’s prose does not make me imagine that I know what it’s like to experience these things. What it does is return the strangeness of all experience to me. It shows me how utterly incomprehensible and inarticulable the smallest moment of conscious existence is, when you think about it with enough attention. It’s an ethical project.

Pan says that we would do well to think more critically about the conventional language we give and accept, and what strange mysteries are concealed beneath it.

Unfortunately dnf at about the halfway point. This started off super strong. I was hooked but it slowly started to lose me. Started to feel a little detached from the story and the secondary characters.

4.25 stars

This book follows 15-year-old Nick as he starts experiencing full-blown panic attacks and begins spiraling into hyper-awareness. Becoming aware of being aware — and that obviously is a mind fuck for him (and, me). At first, it’s this unsettling portrait of anxiety and mental illness, and then it gradually shifts into something more surreal and fever dream-like. Suddenly, Pan (Greek god - Pan) might be inside his head, or maybe it’s just how he makes sense of what he’s going through?

There’s definitely a trippy quality to the writing, but I appreciate that Clune writes the story in a way that makes the reader feel the confusion, anxiety, etc. instead of just explaining that those are what the reader should feel. It makes it more atmospheric, like you’re experiencing parts of this with Nick instead of watching him experience it. If that makes any sense.

The book also digs into friendship, family trauma, and the way we try to find meaning when nothing makes sense. Very coming of age, where you’re clinging to music or poetry or weird people in barns hoping they have the answers.

I wouldn’t say this is an “easy” read — it’s fragmented, intense, and intentionally disorienting at times — but I found it really original and moving. If you’ve ever struggled with anxiety, or remember what it felt like to be young and terrified of your own brain, this one might hit in a really specific way. I feel like this is a book that maybe I need to re-read so I can pick up on more things or have a better understanding of it. It’s not necessarily above my head, just at times hard wrap your head around? If that makes any sense.

Definitely found myself frequently thinking “what is even going on right now?” But I think that’s part of the point. Worth a read, I’m my opinion. Maybe on a good mental health day.

Also I really liked the cover. I feel like that’s rare for me so it was worth noting.

Anyone who’s ever dealt with panic attacks or generalized anxiety disorder will be haunted by this bizarre and clever story. The way panic is portrayed is painfully accurate; the spiraling thoughts, the hypersensitivity, the insomnia, the way reality begins to warp. At first, it’s disturbingly relatable.

And then?
We slip into fever dream territory.

We follow Nick, a 15-year-old who becomes aware of his own consciousness and immediately begins to spiral. As his panic deepens, his world becomes surreal and fractured. His anxiety isn’t just a condition, it becomes everything. Eventually, it becomes Pan.

Yes. Pan. The literal god. Or maybe not. That’s part of the fun. Or the nightmare.

As the story unravels, Nick joins a group of drug-fueled misfits who don’t just enable his descent; they celebrate it. By the end, we’re in full Midsommar mode: euphoric delusion, sun-drenched terror, and divine madness.

The prose is pure stream of consciousness. Nothing outside of Nick—other characters, the setting, even reality itself—feels concrete or reliable. It’s like being trapped inside a brain cracking open under pressure. Every page pulses with dread, disorientation, and a creeping sense that the world is melting from the inside out.

Rather than scratching an itch, Pan caused me an itch.
I’m not sure if I had an awakening or if my brain just hurts.
Either way: worth it.

This book is not a binge read. It costs you mental energy, but it rewards you with gleeful confusion. You finish it with your heart racing and a vague urge to lie down in the grass and stare at the sun.

Recommended for:
• Anxiety sufferers (who want to feel seen—or spooked)
• Mental health fiction fans
• Stream-of-consciousness weirdos
• People who liked I’m Thinking of Ending Things or Midsommar

Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Press for the eARC in exchange for an honest review.

“𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦. 𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦.”

coincidentally, i read PAN by michael clune while reading ‘to a god unknown’ by john steinbeck—two books, two men with their new old religions.

there’s no book i’ve read that’s captured the vivid unreality of being 15 years old and mentally ill like this one. i’ve been there, and maybe part of me is still there: staring at your hands realizing you are not your hands, your are not your face, you are not your head, you’re not even inside of those things.

“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘗𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘥.”

our protagonist nick and his philosophical druggie friends make a church of his mental illness when he begins to believe that his anxiety disorder is not a psychiatric problem, but a result of the greek god pan, trapped in his body, attempting to emerge. but, then again: “𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.”

how alien is the human psyche in our animal body-traps? what are the forces that control our inner lives?

the writing in this book is truly and startlingly beautiful. clune writes about life so provocatively. i think you have to in order to capture the present without deadening it; life squirms and shivers on every page, in every word. “𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘬. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸’𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦..” sentences like “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯... 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱” make me drool. clune makes the bleak, suburban midwest literary and surreal. and the idea of the god pan at ace hardware store, i love that.

PAN is cerebral and funny and strange. when i loved this book, i loved it, rabbitholing down into unreality with glee. when i got sick of it, i got sick of it. and oh it was entirely too easy to become weary of the self-worship of burnout 15 year olds on psychedelics, putting each other onto oscar wilde between bong rips and bemoaning the hollow lives of the members of a hollow society. when they all talk like that, every single one of them, the characters sometimes felt like ill-fitting vessels for the ideas clune wanted to explore. eye roll. it was difficult to invest or believe in any of them, outside of nick and ty. and at times where i expected a narrative release, a crescendo, an embracing or rejecting of madness, the story spluttered out and coasted away. an interesting one, i’ll keep my eye on clune.

3/5 stars

3.5 rounded down to 3 stars.
Thank you to the publisher for this eARC. Pan is a confusing little novel which took me some time to get into. We follow a teenager struggling with panic attacks, who together with friends seeks theories and ideas from literature and art to rationalise his experiences. Clune’s writing was interesting however I felt detached from this book, I think this lacked the emotional heart needed when discussing mental health and coming of age.

An experimental, insightful, and memorable novel! I'm new to the world of Michael Clune, but this was certainly a good introduction. In the first half of the novel, I was starkly reminded of what it felt like to be a teenager discovering anxiety. The second half of the novel felt like it lost its point a little, but maybe I wasn't simply connecting as well with the surrealism. I would've liked to know more about the interiority of the secondary character's lives as they eventually fell flat, and what became of the main character. Overall, though, I'll be recommending this to those who like surrealist, magical realism, and/or reflective coming of age novels.