Lauren Groff’s Brawler is one of those rare collections that doesn’t just gather stories together—it creates a kind of echo chamber where each piece deepens and complicates the others. On their own, the stories are sharp, moving, and beautifully crafted, but when read in sequence, they begin to hum with a resonance that’s hard to shake.
What struck me most was how Groff can take such different characters—a teenage swimmer, a grieving mother, a young woman suddenly thrust into responsibility—and make each of their struggles feel both singular and universal. They are bound by that constant tug-of-war between our best instincts and our worst impulses, between the urge to love and the instinct to protect ourselves. That theme runs like a current beneath every page, pulling you along.
The writing itself is a pleasure: precise but never cold, lyrical without tipping into excess. Groff has a way of landing on images or lines that stop you in your tracks—moments where you feel like she has nailed something true about being human that you hadn’t quite been able to put into words yourself.
I also appreciated how wide-ranging the collection is, not just in terms of geography (New England, Florida, California) but also in time and in the lives it chooses to illuminate. Each story feels like its own world, but together they form a map of the complicated terrain we all navigate between light and shadow.
This is a moving, thought-provoking book, one that lingers after the last page. It’s not always easy reading—these characters wrestle with pain, responsibility, and loss—but it’s deeply rewarding. I came away feeling both shaken and grateful, reminded of fiction’s power to reveal the raw truths of being alive.

Lauren Groff is one of the most talented and versatile writers out there. Her new collection of short stories is so beautifully written and so powerful. Containing nine stories, set across different locations and time periods, each story really evoked an emotional response. While it was a fast read for me, I was left thinking about the stories for days to come, especially the aftermath in “Under the Wave” and the ending of “Birdie.” Highly recommend!

An impeccable, gorgeous, searing, enthralling, and incredibly captivating. I was riveted from start to finish (especially the story with Chip...woof). The short story form is truly Groff's forte. No one does it better. No notes. 10/10!

I genuinely don't know how Lauren Groff does it--how each of her books are so different from each other, yet she still never misses.

The age-old advice is to write what you know, and, looking at Groff's notes at the end of Brawler, it appears many of the stories in this collection originated from one small idea taken from her life. She takes those tidbits and fashions a whole world around them in a few short paragraphs. Yes, that's what writers do, but I've read so many authors who repeat themselves in their work. Every protagonist is a writer or every story takes place in the same small town or every conflict is caused by a crotchety old man who is set in his ways. Every story of Groff's, however, is wholly original.

A throughline in this collection seems to be violence against women--specifically violence perpetrated by a man, often in domestic situations. We see a mother taking her children and fleeing from an abusive husband, another mother living with her daughter in a van so they can always stay one step ahead of the man that almost killed her, and a man who stalks his ex-lover in increasingly intrusive and violent ways.

Following that pattern, you'd expect the titular Brawler to be male, but she's female--a teen diver who is essentially raising herself and her hypochondriac mother. In passing, it's mentioned that she abandons swimming for diving after too many instances of brushing the crotches of her male teammates in the pool. "Most of the boys hadn't complained, some had even slowed down as they passed, but it took only one whiner, and then she was forced to switch to diving," Groff writes.

I found it interesting that the one story without an abusive male figure in fact contains a sexually abusive *female* figure, and Groff names the book after her. I look forward to when the book comes out to see what reviewers make of this and if Groff is asked about it in any interviews. That's the disadvantage of reading a book before its release--you want to talk about it but you're forced to remain patient.

BRAWLER by Lauren Groff is possibly the author’s best book to date. That is saying a lot considering the fact that I worship THE VASTER WILDS and MATRIX.

The beauty of the book resides in the author’s prose. It is both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling. It is introspective and outward-looking. It conveys tranquility while simultaneously exposing discomfort. Groff’s prose divulges more in 10 words than most writers can accomplish with 1000. One of my favorite passages comes in “Annunciation” — “She said we have art so as not to die of the truth. She said that in every human there is both an animal and a god wrestling unto death.” These 2 sentences are the essence of the entire book.

This sublime collection of short stories addresses: (found) family and friendships, (absent) mothers and daughters, matriarchy and patriarchy, misogyny versus feminism, the beauty and the terror of the natural world, the beauty and the terror of the human-made world, life and death, abuse, addiction, socioeconomic status, second chances, love, hate, secrets, and the incessant struggle not just to survive but to live.

Do not read this book in one sitting. In each tale, Groff plumbs the depth of the reader’s emotions, and many times, we will stand up after reading a story feeling deeply uncomfortable. I recommend reading a story and then, taking a break to reflect on what you just read. Do not solely consider the words on the page; ruminate on what Groff does not tell the reader.

For example, in the story “Birdie,” childhood friends return to Birdie’s bedside as she is in the hospital dying from cancer. In one scene, the women go around the room sharing their worst secrets. But the biggest secret is the one that is left unsaid between Nic and Birdie, whose relationship is the core of the story.

In “What’s the Time Mr. Wolf,” even though the man-child, Chip, insists to his friends-with-benefits partner, Pearl, “No, I’m a good guy,” it’s the final paragraph that has the reader wondering. Note the use of the conjunction “or” — Groff uses it twice — in the passage. It’s a crucial and unnerving conjunction in Groff’s gifted hands.

Also, pay close attention to the details. Groff is illustrating a world and its many nuances. For example, “Birdie was dying, the reason why they’d all been summoned. She had only her friends and her parents these days, because she had been a freelancer and had worked alone, and her boyfriend had taken off at the first diagnosis, stealing the cat.” Only Groff could have written such a majestic compound complex sentence where the participial phrase at the end comes across as more horrific than the fact that Birdie is dying.

If there is any justice in the literary world, BRAWLER will receive the accolades and literary awards it will have earned. No one writes like Groff. She is truly unique. BRAWLER should be required reading.

6 stars / 5

Each of these stories is a perfectly crafted, tightly honed little world. The subject matter was dark but everything felt deeply real to me. I tore through the whole collection in 2 sittings. I loved it.