Set against the unrelenting chill of England’s famously bitter winter of 1962, The Land in Winter explores the quiet, complicated corners of domestic life. Two neighbouring couples, Eric and Irene, and Bill and Rita, live side by side in a small village near Bristol. Their lives slowly entangle as snow blankets the landscape and time itself seems to stand still. With both women pregnant and increasingly isolated, their fragile bonds are tested by the starkness of the season and the deeper emotional frost within.

Andrew Miller is no stranger to crafting detailed portraits of human relationships, and in many ways, this novel is a classic example of his strength as a stylist and observer. His prose is elegant, slightly old-fashioned in tone, fitting for a story set in the early 1960s, and he captures the atmosphere perfectly. You can feel the cold in your bones, sense the stillness, and almost hear the snow falling outside those quiet, tired homes.

That said, The Land in Winter didn’t quite work for me. As a fan of stories set in post-war Britain, I struggled to connect emotionally with the characters. All the themes that I tend to love, isolation, marriage, and disillusionment, were thoughtfully explored, but I felt more like a detached observer than an invested reader.

The novel is very much a “slice of life” story, and while that approach can be beautiful and resonant, here it left me a little bored. The pacing is deliberate, the plot subtle, and the emotional beats are quiet, perhaps too quiet, for my taste.

Still, this isn’t a bad book by any means. Miller’s writing is strong, and he excels at capturing the physical and emotional landscape of a particular time and place. If you’re a reader who enjoys quiet, slow-burning narratives set in post-war Britain where mood and setting are front and centre, this might be your kind of read.

Final thoughts: While The Land in Winter didn’t resonate with me personally, I can see its appeal for fans of introspective, atmospheric fiction. If you love books rooted in 1960s England and don’t mind a meandering pace in service of mood and nuance, this could be a good fit.

Thank you to NetGalley and Europa Editions for providing me with an e-ARC in exchange for my honest review.

Thanks to Europa Editions and NetGalley for this ARC of Andrew Miller's 'The Land in Winter.'

A really wonderfully written story set in the West Country of England mainly during the unusually harsh winter of 1962-1963.

Two couples are expertly characterized. Within each couple, each individual comes from different social classes and backgrounds. In one couple, a doctor from a blue collar background, his father worked for the railways, marries a well-t0-do blueblood. In the other, the son of wealthy and privileged but new-money slumlord who's playing at being a farmer marries a nightclub dancer (with hints that she was a prostitute). The wives become fast friends while the husbands do not like each other and hide their romantic and business scheming from their wives. The expectations are women and pregnancy are played out here very cleverly as both women are pregnant but have very different feelings about and history with pregnancy and motherhood.

Post-war Britain and its biases, twisted morals, and inequalities are all very well conveyed throughout the story, simply by incorporating elements into the lives and actions of the characters. So well done.

The women are damaged and shoehorned into lives and behaviors by societal expectations but we find that so are the men, to some extent, though the men find themselves in a much more pleasant place, regardless.

Bravo.

Stunningly good. Miller is a superb craftsman, delicate, precise, hypersensitive, and capable of delivering an image out of nowhere that is both perfectly appropriate and completely unexpected. His two couples are unlikely but easily convincing. His evocation of the early 1960s is utterly true, with all its class baggage and old-fashionedness, on the cusp of change. And then there’s the war dimension, rarely detailed, but clear and monstrous and horribly close.
The novel reads like a thriller, unputdownable. I shall miss its precision and understated insight. Now that’s what I call a novelist.

Thank you to #NetGalley and Europa for the ARC - 5/13 from the 2025 Booker Prize Longlist.

Set in the 1960s in the English countryside, this novel tells the story of two couples who live next to each other - Irene & Eric and Bill & Rita. Despite their differences in social class, Irene and Rita strike up a friendship in the early days of their pregnancies.

This novel is a masterclass of a character study and the setting (both time and place) is so central to the story that it almost becomes a character in itself as it portrays the desolation and freezing of affection that both couples experience in their marriages.

The subject matter is heavy, but it is well worth the read.

4.5 stars, rounded up

A wonderful novel, rich in observations about humanity and history, and presented in fine prose. Set in the winter of 1962/1963, it shifts between the points of view of two young couples— Eric and Irene Parry and Bill and Rita Simmons—both pairs new to a rural area just outside Bristol, England.

Eric is a country doctor who has joined the practice of Gabby Miklos, evidently a Hungarian Holocaust survivor. Irene is from a “posh” background and largely at loose ends in the couple’s cottage. She’s socially isolated with nothing much to do but plan meals for a husband who has little appreciation for them and equally little interest in her. The reader knows why almost immediately: he’s carrying on an affair with a patient, the wife of a wealthy Bristol tobacco company executive. Irene is pregnant and curious about the transformation of her body, the strangeness of this distinctly female experience.

Bill Simmons is the son of a foreigner (who’s attempted to keep his Eastern European origins secret from his two sons). As an older child, Bill managed to steal a look at his father’s naturalization card. He knows his true surname, Somogyi—also Hungarian. Oxford educated, he dropped out of his law program, having no desire to serve in the lucrative family real estate business. His father’s name regularly appears in the papers, always in association with some scandal or another. Bill wants nothing to do with the man’s shady dealings and ill-gotten gains, though he could certainly use some cash. In an effort to break with the past and live in an honest way, he’s managed to buy a run-down Midlands farm that he’s struggling to manage. He’s also made an unusual match with Rita, a former dancing girl/entertainer. She moved on to temping at the real estate office where the farm was listed and was actually the one to show Bill the place. Rita has had a sad and difficult life. Sent to live with relatives during the war, she dropped out of school at sixteen to work in a hotel and subsequently a sleazy nightclub. Like Irene, she is expecting a child, but her experience is quite different. Most importantly, she’s plagued by pregnancy-induced psychosis. Her condition may be due to genetics. Her dad, who served as a war photographer and saw terrible things in 1945, has been a resident of the local asylum for years. The shadow of World War II and the Holocaust hangs over all these characters.

In the first third or so of the novel, Miller gives us convincing views of all of the characters . . . secondary ones as well. The last part of the book becomes bizarre at times as each of these four people embarks on a separate solitary journey—physical, psychological, metaphorical. There were moments when I thought Miller was going too far—mainly with Bill’s story. Even if I wasn’t entirely sold, I was willing to accept these plot developments.

It’s impossible while reading this novel not to be struck by the degree to which certain things have changed, particularly around health matters. Everyone smokes like chimneys here—although conscientious, pregnant Irene has heeded a recent Royal College of Physicians report about the dangers of smoking. People also drink heavily and regularly drive when inebriated. The social isolation and mind-numbing boredom of middle-class women confined to the home is also convincingly and even poignantly portrayed.

In the end, I loved this book. I was wholly absorbed by it and sometimes quite moved. I believe it is well deserving of its nomination for a major literary prize.

I'm not sure how I haven't read Andrew Miller before, but on the strength of this quietly excellent character study, I will definitely be delving into his back catalogue.

Set in the winter of 1962 across a timeframe of a couple of months, we follow the lives of two couples, neither of whom seem particularly suited to each other, but one of whom do at least seem to have found some kind of love. There is damaged Rita, her husband Bill whose Dad is notorious (for what we're never completely sure), Irene who is trying her best as a clealry unhappy, pregnant housewife, and her oafish, often brutal, husband Eric, one of two local GPs.

Told from each of their perspectives, their lives intertwine, and unravel. The prose is excellent, as is the evocation of the area and the time period. Felt very immersed with the characters, and their lives.

4.5, rounded up. #5 of the Booker 2025 longlist for me to have read.

At first glance one could be forgiven for thinking this just a UK version of the classic The Ice Storm, since the premise/setup are extremely similar. But then Miller takes off on his own track and veers in several unexpected directions. It basically follows two couples - Eric and Irene - a country doctor and his pregnant wife; and Bill and Rita, the farming couple who live close by and are also expecting a child - through the pivotal blizzard season of 1962.

There's a LOT happening within a few short months, but the characters are all extremely sharply defined, if not always likeable, and the story is presented in fast-moving, specific and unfussy prose; I was surprised I got through the 365 pages in a mere 3 days, always eager to find out what happened next.

A few quibbles - I didn't feel Miller QUITE stuck the ending, and there a few melodramatic moments that felt a bit out of place - but I wouldn't be at all surprised if this made the shortlist and perhaps even took the top honor - it would seem to have an appeal across a wide range of readership, much like Shuggie Bain

PS: Undoubtedly my theatre background, but I couldn't stop thinking this was actually entitled The Lion in Winter!! :-O!

You never quite know where Andrew Miller is going to take you in one of his books. His endings always catch you by surprise, tying up some of the loose ends, but more often than not leaving you with more questions than answers. His latest novel, The Land in Winter is no exception to this rule.

Set during the Great Freeze of 1962-63, one of the coldest winters on record in the UK, we follow two newly married couples, who are now neighbours in a small village just outside Bristol. The couples have never met until one day Rita decides to give some eggs to Irene in an attempt to still the voices in her head. Both women discover that they are pregnant and due about the same time. Naturally this brings them closer together. But it’s all a bit awkward.

This is the early 60’s and times are a-changing, but only just. Class difference counts, education matters and your accent will give you away. Knowing how to act in company is important, what to say, what not to say and to whom.

Miller switches perspective between the four protagonists, which can be a little confusing at times, but only highlights how complicated and messy these two marriages really are. Physically and emotionally these four teeter on the edge of madness and heroics as the weather closes in.

The Land in Winter is a character driven story and richly atmospheric – remember how Miller evoked 18th century Paris in Pure and the island of Jura in Now We Shall Be Entirely Free? He has a way of putting you right there, smelling, feeling, seeing exactly what his characters are. Even when you’re not quite sure if you’re on board with the story, or care that much about the characters, something draws you in and on. At least that’s what happens every time I read a book by Andrew Miller. I am seduced.

Closer to a four and a half star read and I hope it makes the Shortlist for the Booker Prize.

Andrew Miller's tenth novel captures the harsh winter of 1962 in England's West Country with remarkable authenticity. Following two couples—Eric and Irene, and Bill and Rita—the story explores human relationships against a backdrop of relentless cold and social change. Miller's prose is both elegant and accessible, creating fully realized characters whose hopes and struggles feel genuinely human. Despite the bleak setting, this isn't a depressing read; instead, it finds light in darkness through carefully observed moments of connection and resilience. The novel demonstrates Miller's mastery of historical fiction, delivering an emotionally powerful and beautifully crafted narrative.

I really admired the beauty of Andrew Miller’s writing in The Land in Winter—the frozen landscape and small domestic details are captured with real skill. But as much as I appreciated the prose, the story itself just didn’t hold me. The plot felt slow and dragged in places, and I found my attention drifting. For me, it was a novel that read beautifully but never fully pulled me in.

The Land in Winter surprised me. I don't mind a heavily character-driven novel, but I admit it took a while for this one to click. For the longest time, you can tell that something is building with the two married couples we learn about.

The two women bond over their pregnancies despite their class differences. Rita is a farmer's wife, and Irene is a doctor's wife, each of which has their own set of issues (not to mention their husbands).

The minutiae of daily life was described in detail, but even if that's not your jam, the tiny elements created a strong, visceral setting where I could practically feel a chill as I read. I'm glad the story blossomed towards the end, but it likely isn't a book I'll remember forever. Still, the writing is great, particularly if you don't mind a slow burn.

4.5, rounded up. I'm delighted that this was longlisted for this year's Booker. This is probably the most traditional English novel on the longlist, and it's the kind of meat-and-potatoes offering could have made the list at any point in the past three or four decades.

I've read and enjoyed nearly novel that Andrew Miller has published, and his body of work has unfairly flown under the radar. He's usually described as a historical novelist, but he works on a miniaturist's scale, creating precisely-engineered chamber pieces with psychologically acute characterization.

Here, he's written an intimate quartet, a domestic drama about two mismatched married couples living in a rural town in Somerset, during the hellishly cold winter of 1962-3. The descriptions of the desolate and icy landscape are bleakly atmospheric, and I imaginatively projected myself from an Atlanta August into a freezing and drafty farmhouse, and nighttime walks across icy fields.

The real strength of this novel is the finely-tuned characterizations, observed with acute social realism, especially the class and gender differences that undermine these marital relationships through mutual incomprehension. Imagine an early Mike Leigh or Ken Loach film...

And for me at least, the nature descriptions are an objective correlative for the emotional repression and isolation of all four main characters. Eric, a local physician from working-class roots has been conducting a torrid affair during his rounds of house calls, while his posh wife Irene is at home pregnant with their first child, her richer inner life circumscribed by bourgeois domesticity and marital loneliness.

Their next-door neighbors are Bill, a London-born son of a now-wealthy Hungarian immigrant family who has impulsively bought an unproductive dairy farm he's unskillfully running into the red-- note the ridiculously feckless bull on the premises-- and his pregnant wife Rita, a former Bristol nightclub dancer whose mental instability has been exacerbated by prescription drug abuse.

Irene and Rita establish a short-lived friendship based on proximity and their shared experiences of pregnancy, but most of the novel sends the characters out into the cold, on solitary trajectories that become increasingly unpredictable and emotionally perilous. This novel builds atmosphere much more than momentum. Miller takes his time establishing the scene and inhabiting his characters, but stick with it: the payoff of the devastating final scenes was stunning.

Very highly recommended. Already US publication date: November 4, 2025.

<i>Many thanks to Europa Editions and Netgalley for giving me an ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.</i>

I found this an interesting story, despite reading the other reviews. It gave me a look into another era., how they coped with life then. I enjoyed it.

I loved this novel. Strangers put together by a storm is one of my favorite tropes in stories. This one was from each characters perspective, and done beautifully.

My first Andrew Miller definitely not my last.

The slow build of tension in this was expert. Rich characters, undeniable setting and writing that excellent in dialogue and plot.

I suspect this will make The Booker shortlist

I really enjoyed getting into this time-period and how the story was told with the characters. It was everything that I was wanting and enjoyed the characters were so well done and enjoyed how everything was used together to make it believable and care about the characters. Andrew Miller was able to create the story perfectly and can't wait for more.

I expected this to be a slow and quiet read but THE LAND IN WINTER by Andrew Miller was deceptively so. It had me captured from the first chapter and gripped with the tension and drama until the very end.

Set against the backdrop of the aftermath of WW2 and a famous winter snow storm in the early 1960’s, our focus is on two neighbouring couples in the English countryside. Eric is the local doctor and his wife Irene comes from money and finds herself a bored housewife. Bill is an ambitious if inexperienced farmer and his wife Rita used to be a showgirl in the city. As they face a significant turning point in history, we follow the minutiae of their daily life. Secrets soon begin to unravel though and we witness each character’s revelations and realisations.

The writing is superb - turns of phrase, descriptions of the unforgiving weather and moments in the day-to-day of these characters were all brilliantly done. I also loved the way the historical and social events of the time just floated in the background to add context to everything - understated but important. Miller has made it all look effortless. Such a fantastic piece of historical fiction!

One December morning in 1962, Rita crosses the field separating her husband's farm from the doctor's cottage and so begins her unlikely friendship with Irene, bonding despite their very different backgrounds over their pregnancy and the loneliness of their days. But as the harshest winter in living memory draws in, trouble is brewing in this quiet corner of English countryside...

As soon as I started The Land in Winter, I knew that it was going to be good. I love the way this book is written, somehow concise and languorous at the same time, almost cinematic in the way it tells the story while remaining elliptic enough to keep the pages turning. I have seen reviews describing it as a slow read, but this wasn't my experience. It's a book that demands you take your time, but I would quite happily have read it in one sitting had time allowed. I was increasingly reluctant to put this one down, and I found my mind returning to it in the hours I was forced to. The story is also a quiet one, incrementally building in tension towards a crisis point, but centred around ordinary lives. And yet I found the plot riveting, as I came to care for these characters, the evocative writing making me believe in the world Miller has created. I also loved the way the story is told, moving fluidly between characters' perspectives and playing around with the timeline, so that you never quite know what is going to happen next.

I knew early on that this was going to be a five-star read for me, and I wasn't disappointed by the ending. I really loved the time I spent with this book, and I think I will have to take a look at what else Andrew Miller has written.

I am thankful that I got the opportunity to read this title, especially as it won the Walter Scott Prize and is on the Booker longlist. I was captivated until I got to about 70%, and then things went off the rails, in my opinion. I also found the ending unsatisfactory. The writing is excellent and very atmospheric. I can only think of a couple of patrons who would enjoy this book, so we probably won't be purchasing it.
Trigger warning: Suicide and mental illness.

Andrew Miller’s “The Land in Winter” is a quiet yet emotionally powerful story about two neighboring families in the early 1960s. The narrative feels, both literally and metaphorically, like a prolonged moment of anticipation—a giant pregnant pause. It evokes the vibe of the ending of the film "The Graduate," leaving one to ponder, "What did you just do, and where do we go from here?" They seem like they are all play acting at their current roles and identities.

The four characters, much like the winter setting, seem to be in a state of quiet limbo or stasis. However, beneath the surface, things are concealed but gradually moving forward, and change is on the horizon.

I would recommend this emotionally rich and well-crafted work. As I read this novel, I continuously thought about William Maxwell's "So Long, See You Tomorrow," "Broken Country" by Clare Leslie Hall, and the works of Clare Keegan. The prose is minimalist, focusing on ordinary people and exploring the theme of relationships, identities, and loss in its broadest sense. Thank you to Europa Editions and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review of this Booker Prize longlisted novel.