Ooooof well this book definitely has a strong voice, though the affectation got a bit repetitive at times. Honestly kind of a brutal read as someone who was about this age and spent their teens in the Chicago suburbs. Feel like I understand some classmates a little better. I wish the protagonist had gotten a little bit further in their own journey? I want to check back in another ten years and see if he's made any progress. But I appreciate that the book kind of followed real life in which there's often no big resolution. People's lives just kind of continue in surprising ways.

Highly recommend. Well written and handles alcohol really well. I was immediately connected to the book as someone that was in high school for September 11th and the book brought me right back to that time.

*Great Disasters* by Grady Chambers is such a powerful, quietly devastating debut that stays with you long after the last page. Set in early‑2000s Chicago, it follows six guys coming of age against the backdrop of 9/11, the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, protests, first love, and the weight of addiction .

The writing? At times it’s poetic, precise—it reads like poetry, even though it’s a novel . The narrator’s reminiscing unfolds in subtle, haunting prose that cuts deep when you least expect it.

What hooked me most is its honesty — friendship fading, life derailed, and the tension between personal pain and collective trauma (hello, war and addiction theme) ([goodreads.com][2]). The characters feel so real—their flaws, loyalty, heartbreak—and Chambers doesn’t shy away from the messy stuff: alcoholism, heartbreak, and the aftermath of choices made.

It’s definitely not a light beach read—it’s introspective and sometimes painful—but so worth it. If you're into character-driven, emotionally resonant stories that examine how big world events shape our inner lives, this one will hit you right in the feels.

Great Disasters is a quietly devastating and beautifully observed debut that captures the bittersweet ache of adolescence giving way to adulthood in early-2000s America. With poetic sensitivity and piercing emotional clarity, Grady Chambers delivers a profoundly human story about friendship, identity, and the small and seismic shifts that define a generation.

This novel is about a group of boys growing into men under the shadow of national trauma. As wars rage overseas, protests unfold at home, and the dream of easy belonging starts to slip away, the narrator—achingly introspective and honest—guides us through a landscape where love falters, loyalty shifts, and time becomes both a balm and a burden. The friendships are messy, flawed, deeply real, full of unspoken fears, and the kind of emotional shorthand only years of shared history can build.

The novel doesn’t offer neat resolutions—it’s more honest than that—but it does offer understanding. The sense of being tethered to people who shaped you feels universal and immediate, even as you drift apart.


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

Thank you for allowing me to read this book. This story was very relatable. His personality reminded me of myself during that time in my life. I felt so sad for them. I found myself wondering “what’s happens next”. Great read!

This book was so amazing! I am sad I’ve never read more books by this author. Just how honest the characters were and how relatable their stories were was incredible.

I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this book. A deeply human and emotional exploration of friendship, growing up, and the people who leave lasting impressions on us without even knowing it. It read so honest and real that at times I forgot it was a novel, and rather a memoir of someone baring their soul. A 4.5 read for me.

This book truly surprised me! Contrary to my expectations, it turned out to be a slow-burn, in the best possible way!

I found myself deeply invested in these characters, and the writing was simply stunning. However, if you prefer a linear timeline, be prepared for a unique writing style. But trust me, it’s worth it. I highly recommend this book!

I was so excited about the idea of this novel, but later in the book I got bored with everything. What a pity.

I received a copy for review. All opinions are my own. As a millennial, this was a really great book that I could relate to on so many levels. I’m the same age as the characters and lived through a lot of the same things. The nostalgia kept me reading chapter by chapter to see how the group of friend’s lives would play out and I found myself recognizing some of my own friends in them. I haven’t read a book this relatable and enjoyable in a really long time. What a great book I won’t soon forget.

I don’t give out five stars lightly—but this short, powerful novel earns every one.

I received an advance reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review on my Goodreads page. This book is set to be released on September 30, 2025.

Told through the eyes of a narrator who weaves in and out of a close-knit group of high school friends from the early 2000s, the story moves fluidly between past and present, tracing the ways their lives evolved in the shadow of 9/11 and into our current political and cultural times. What unfolds is a deeply human, emotionally resonant exploration of friendship, identity, and the subtle forces and decisions that shape us across decades.

Full disclosure: I’m of the same generation as the characters, with a similar circle of friends from that era. That made the book especially poignant for me, but I firmly believe its themes will resonate with readers of any age. The writing captures universal truths—about growing up, drifting apart, and seeking meaning—that feel both timely and timeless.

This is the kind of book you can read in a single afternoon and walk away from feeling moved and affirmed. It’s beautifully done. I highly recommend it.

This book was stunning and I can't wait to recommend it to all my friends that I grew up with in Chicago once it comes out.

Chicago’s private Catholic schools are notorious for being socially cutthroat. Ignatius does not have an uncool friend group—uncool kids don’t get in to Ignatius at all. Chambers is not wrapped up in his narrator’s coolness. This gesture is impressive and critical given that being an internship-holding hockey player at a private Catholic school in Chicago is an experience akin to Brahminism. Chambers does not congratulate him for it. It is rote, and steel-grey.

Our narrator does not fawn at coveted invites to parties with booze—his alcoholism is entirely unglamorous. It is disgusting, bleeding gums and cruel turns of phrase and regret that will haunt you til you die.

My affection for this book is probably heightened by the fact that, on top of growing up in Chicago, I went to school at the Claremont Colleges, another scene that I feel Chambers' with stark clarity that cuts through the alcoholic haze.

The only reason I do not give this five stars is because the solipsistic last third of the book sucks a bit of air out of the first, plot-driven two-thirds of the book. There is something narratively resonant to that, in that the shine of the narrator's adolescent years have been dulled by distance and unglamorous jobs and alcohol, but if the energy of the narrator's high school and college years had been maintained throughout the last scenes and contemplation of the wreckage of 9/11, this would be a perfect novel to me.

I received this arc through netgalley. I enjoyed this book, and, since I am an extremely nostalgic human, I felt great emotion in reading about the narrator’s youth and youthful exploit with his core group of friends. Though I feel I am, in almost all ways, miles apart from who I was as a teenaged girl in high school, I still remember those days with a piercing clarity and can pretty easily transport myself back. This was well written and evocative, and I appreciated the narrator’s honest questioning of himself and his actions, both in the past as well as in present day. The area in which my experience diverges from the of the protagonist is that, as he ages, he maintains many of his elementary and high school relationships. For me, time, distance, and lack of fundamental similar beliefs have led me away from many of the people I grew up with. I think that’s fine, there’s something beautiful to me about a person or persons being only a small and beautiful part of your formative years. However, I know that relationships like those portrayed in this novel exist, and it was soothing to read and discover that the protagonist still had so many of those relationships, that had grown, changed, and morphed over time. All in all, this was a poignant read that I’m glad I took on. I did particularly enjoy the author’s writing style!

You will think about this title long after the book ends. It's written so well. Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.

Some disasters are loud. Others are friendships slipping through time. This isn’t just a coming-of-age story—it’s a quiet gut punch about friendship, war, addiction, and what it means to grow up in America. Grady Chambers’ debut is haunting, tender, and unforgettable. 5 stars.

“Great Disasters” 4.25 ⭐️

Thank you to NetGalley and Tin House Books for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. (MILD SPOILERS BELOW!)

“Great Disasters” is narrated from Graham Katz’s perspective over the course of decades, but the point of telling is when he is thirty-four. The story jumps around to different points in his life, but the majority of the time is spent in high school, with his friend Ryan, and Ryan’s girlfriend, Jana, at the center of the story. The book begins in 2001 with the War on Terror, and there is a stark address immediately of the historical context these characters are living in. This becomes important when the reader learns Ryan enlisted in the Marines after high school, so he is intrinsically tied to the war in a more pressing way than the characters previously experienced. The narrator weaves us through his life and the impact his six friends had on him, as well as the intense role alcohol choreographed many of these connections.

We are thrown right into the action from the first page, and immediately, I knew this book was going to be brilliant. As a writer, there are certain tells when reading other people’s work that inform whether it will be bad, fine, good, or great, and trust is a huge factor. Chambers trusts his audience, and not every writer out there right now can say the same. It’s the character of a strong writer to be able to trust your words will be understood in the way you mean. The prose is also incredible. I have never had the pleasure of reading any of Chambers’s other works, but there is no doubt he is a poet. But not just a poet—he’s a painter like his character, Nina. His words illustrate in the most natural and pristine way, the way a boat can skid over water or skates slide over ice. It comes so easily, it seems, and as a writer, I know it does. It’s the kind of writing that can’t be taught; it is innate from how you see the world.

There is also a level of familiarity and care in the narrator’s voice that many times, I stopped and felt like I was reading nonfiction. Graham was so alive, real, and raw, like cut fruit left to the sun. And in conjunction with the brilliant prose, I felt like I was watching a movie the entire time, which I think Graham would like very much.

I cannot write a review of this book without commenting on the sociological imagination, which is an idea formed by sociologist C. Wright Mills. Essentially, the sociological imagination is the connection of personal experiences within broader social contexts. Mills spoke at length about personal troubles vs. public issues because he thought it was imperative to understanding society in a broader context. This book does this brilliantly.

We are in the mind of Graham, and we carom through his memories of his time in high school and college, but there is also much happening at this time that affected their interactions, and we get that from the blurb of “Great Disasters” as well: “This is the story of how we became. I write those words but remain uncertain what they mean. . . . Drinking was a part of it. But as much as it was drinking, it was Ryan’s love for Jana. And as much as it was Ryan’s love for Jana, it was equally the war.”

So much of this story is about Ryan, and there were times my mind wandered to wondering more about Ryan. More about what Graham felt for Ryan, more of him being less passive, but that was routinely the point, and the last page only cements this more. I think not pushing the narrator towards this is a risk that maybe other writers wouldn’t want to take, but I think it’s also painfully realistic, and that’s why it hurts so much more. That despite the pleas and pushes from his family and friends, Graham is still passive, letting the world pass over him, but I would like to believe that is the last time he lets himself be that way. I would like to believe, after the ending, maybe something gets better.

There isn’t a great indication that hope is realistic outcome for him. After all, the book is titled “Great Disasters.” But Chambers wound us through 200 pages, stitching care for Graham in every line and paragraph. I will always have hope for someone like that.

Wow. What a book. Thank you NetGalley & Tin House again. I need a physical copy just so I can weep and highlight every line.