I loved this book. The writing is fantastic, and the way that Greene plays with language made my word-loving self giddy. The fact that the characters are learning about definitions and deeper meanings with a blank slate allows for an powerful examination of language. This bled into my own understanding of the words I use, and it's been fun to sit with the ideas presented in The Definitions. In addition to the direct consideration of definitions, there were several really fresh and interesting metaphors and similes throughout the story - always a plus!

The characters were compelling and well-fleshed out, despite not having previous memories (which is so often used to add character depth). I appreciated how all of the characters felt unique and real, even in the midst of such a controlling setting. Similarly, the Center is designed with so much uniformity, but there were these pockets of uniqueness and nonconformity (characters setting fashion trends with minuscule changes to their uniforms, note passing, drawings, budding love) that provided a rich contrast.

Another highlight was the constant dance between humor, tragedy, and deep reflection. Some of the classes that the characters sit through, such as Politeness, are ridiculous and bring up a sense of levity. But then I started thinking about the ways that these characters are being controlled and molded, and it stopped feeling funny and morphed into sadness and indignation. The interplay between these emotions throughout the story is engaging and makes for a powerful read.

The only part of this book that I'm not sure how I feel about is the level of clarity we're left with. Not much gets answered in this book, and on one hand, I appreciate that. It places us in the characters’ shoes, and it parallels the idea of words having multiple meanings that are all true in their own right. There are so many things that could be happening with the Center, and leaving that to the reader makes sense for this story. However, I also got so hooked on the world that I think I would have liked a little bit more resolution. There is so much to be explored in the world that Greene built, and I find myself wanting more.

I’d definitely recommend this book, especially to people interested in dystopian worlds, thought-provoking, character-driven stories, and books that play with language. There is so much going on in this short novel, and it’s one that I’ll be sitting with for a while.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a free ARC in exchange for an honest review!

The Definitions is a literary, dystopian novel set in a world where people with viral-induced memory loss are sent to a facility where they gradually recover language within the framework of a school to teach them skills to reintegrate into the world.

The language in this book draws you into the unformed thoughts of the main character; when she first awakes, her thoughts are terribly disjointed - there's a lot of stream of consciousness as well as massive aphasia. It's a literary version of a game where the only rule is to not use the actual word you're looking to say, and this search for the proper word brings wonderful uses of figurative language. There's also ruminations on words with similar uses such as chair and bench and a verbal Venn diagram of how they overlap, as well as random thoughts of where the first words came from, all from the mind of a character who really never connects all the dots to see the big picture of this dystopian world.

The length of the book makes it really difficult to explore the boundaries of the world, and I really wanted to know what had happened. It doesn't really fit the narrator's worldview though; her entire world is predetermined by how she performs in the classes for reintegration, and these reintegration classes give the best sense of the dystopian world. In Politeness class, they are taught that it is extremely rude to ask for what you want. In Ethics, they learn that it is a sin to lie. In Math, they learn that if Bob has ten apples and you have none that Bob has no obligation to give you any - he would help you more by giving you seeds and water. There is no guiding force to teach names for emotions and how to manage them. Social relationships tend to be guided by what readers realize are episodes of Friends and the movie West Side Story, and it feels like the students are unwittingly participating in an organic social experiment where the students figure out a early 1960's kind of way to pair off.

Our heroine doesn't fit the narrative boundaries being provided for her, and it's her struggle to define herself in a world that provides zero words to allow her to define herself that captures the reader. There's a lot of questions you just won't know the answer to at the end of the book, but you will have food for great conversations with others.

Many thanks to Henry Holt & Company for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All words and opinions are my own.

A thought-provoking and often times eerie little book, The Definitions is about a virus that causes complete memory loss. Those that are affected are sent to a coastal facility called The Center where they engage with others who have lost their memories and go to classes in an attempt to reintegrate into society.

As a dystopian novel, I think this is really well written. The prose is great, the sort of gallows humor is entertaining, and the actual story is very thought-provoking. I found myself questioning the state of their world and what was actually going on at multiple points--and even after reading I'm still trying to reel in my thoughts. This story leaves a lot to be answered, but I think it's fascinating that many theories can be crafted from this story.

The Definitions is a great exploration on control, memory, language, and what it means to be human when everything is stripped away from us. It was a short read, but I'm sure I'll be thinking about it for a long time.

"The Definitions" by Matt Greene is a striking and thought-provoking exploration of memory, revelation, identity, and the limits of language to express the inexhaustible range of human experience. It's a beautifully layered reflection on how we define ourselves and the stories we create to make sense of who we are, even as the world around us is ending. Set in a mysterious rehab center, where a group of people are stripped of their memories by a "strange illness", the novel weaves a delicate narrative about the limits of language and the ways we cling to the past.

There was so much I loved about this little novel. Greene perfectly captures the absurdity of clinging to polite norms as the world is falling apart. There's something beautiful and tragic about how the characters try to relearn everything from scratch, adopting new names and roles while trying to maintain a sense of connection to something -- anything -- that feels real.

But it's the meditation on memory that really stuck with me. The book delves into the fragility of self-identity, how much of the human experience is tied to the stories we tell to and about ourselves. As the residents of The Center begin to recall fragmented memories of their past, you can almost feel the weight of the knowledge they're regaining, but never quite grasping. Greene perfectly captures the feeling of being on the verge of a major revelation, but never quite getting there.

Where the book loses a star for me, though, is in its unwillingness to answer even a few of the bigger questions at the heart of the narrative. I get that revealing the truth about this mysterious virus, the true purpose of The Center, and who is really in charge is not really The Point, but still. Like yes, a sense of uncertainty is kind of central to the whole theme of the novel and you can't answer everything in ~180ish pages, but I wish there was some level of closure.

(4.25) A virus that affects the memories of those infected and as a result causes them to be child-like as they try to regain their memories and re-learn words and social queues. This is one of those novels that is a piece of art. It’s less about having a a generous plot, and more about how the story makes you feel. It explores the importance of words and how we use them to express how we feel, especially in relation to other people. I loved the prose of this book. It was such a charming little read and although it was short I will be thinking about it for a long time.

The Definitions is a quietly stunning novel—elegant, eerie, and deeply thought-provoking. Set in a coastal facility known only as The Center, it unfolds in a world that feels equal parts utopia and dystopia. Here, nameless students, their memories erased by a mysterious illness, are gently but firmly guided back toward what’s deemed “normal”—a curated life, a rehearsed identity, a return to a society shaped by forces they cannot fully see.

This novel is so compelling because it builds tension not with action but with atmosphere and emotional texture. The writing is intimate and poetic, capturing the fragility of a mind in search of itself.

But beneath its gentle pacing, The Definitions is quietly radical. It explores the insidious nature of control—how language, routine, and even kindness can be used to erase and remake a person. The growing flickers of remembered pets, lovers, and half-forgotten songs threaten the sterile peace of The Center and illuminate the messy beauty of individuality. The novel asks: Who are we when everything is stripped away? And what might we become if we are allowed to remember?

The publisher provided ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

You won’t get answers, and you will end up with more questions than you started with, but wow what a powerful story.

We follow an unnamed resident of a facility, a place for people who are told they suffered from a virus that causes memory loss. The other residents all have names from the TV shows (“cartridges”) they watch, which seem retsricted to West Side Story and Friends. I love these choices because of the humor the names provide, especially for those familiar with either of these (characters called Baby John, or even non-primary Friends characters like Kathy and Eddie made me laugh).

That humor is necessary in an otherwise bleak situation. They don’t know who they were before and they don’t even know that they look like. While reading you question the decision of those in charge, and you wonder what really happened because it is clear they are not being told the truth. Why are they being taught what they are taught? What happened to the world? What happens to those who “graduate”? And so many more that I won’t get into because I don’t want to spoil anything,

What they do have? Themselves, whatever it is that makes us, us. And through that we watch interpersonal relationships form, we watch them navigate through their dorms and their courses (with names like “Passive-Aggression”) and most interestingly, we watch as they make sense of the definitions of words and attempt to put them in context, both in their experiences and in their relationships with each other.

Thank you NetGalley and Henry Holt & Company for an advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.