Kenan Orhan’s “The Renovation” offers an emotionally intimate glimpse into the life of a caregiver looking after her chronically ill father. The main character, Dilara, is also a Turkish political refugee exiled in Italy.

In this powerful narrative, Dilara discovers that her remodel has gone wildly awry, leaving her with a Turkish prison cell in place of a bathroom. While this premise is absurd and hints at elements of magical realism, it resonated deeply with me. As someone who is chronically ill and has a father battling a fatal illness, I can relate to the feeling that, amid growing authoritarianism in a fraying democracy, a home can sometimes feel like a prison cell.

Throughout the novel, Dilara navigates the challenges of caring for her ailing father and dealing with an absent husband, all while being increasingly drawn to the prison cell. The notion that a cell represents punishment is clear; however, the predictability, comraderie, and limited outside interference it offers could also be perceived as refreshing, leading one to acclimate to it.

This novel delves into memories, which has a feeling of significant importance due to their displacement and the effects of Alzheimer’s. The prose is powerful, emotional, and empathetic. I will be reflecting on this book for a long time to come, and I highly recommend it. Thank you to Farrar, Straus, and Giroux for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Gorgeous storytelling - all at once mysterious, moving, and disorienting. Dilara and her husband are renovating their bathroom in their home in Italy. The contractors are increasingly secretive about their work. When they complete it, Dilara is shocked to discover her new bathroom looks just like a notable Turkish prison. At first she is shocked and repulsed, but slowly she finds herself drawn to the other women staying there. At the same time, Dilara is dealing with an absentee husband and a father with dementia.

Thank you very much to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for the opportunity to read a copy.

With its fantastical premise and candidly raw emotional core, The Renovation is a powerful literary gem. I’m glad I was drawn in by its outlandish hook—a botched renovation where a residential bathroom inexplicably transforms into a prison cell—judging on the subject matter alone, I might have passed it by as too literary for my taste. The touch of magical realism is seamlessly woven throughout, holding my attention and pulling me into a vulnerable, deeply human character study. More than once, I found myself double-checking to make sure this wasn’t a nonfiction memoir—the protagonist’s journey feels that vivid and real.

The Renovation tackles heavy themes: a parent’s dementia and Türkiye’s political turmoil over the past decade. Despite this, it never feels overwrought; instead, it’s resonant and surprisingly balanced. For someone who doesn’t regularly engage with Türkiye’s politics, it’s also insightful without being overly academic. As an immigrant myself, I found the depiction of complicated feelings toward one’s homeland strikingly accurate—on the surface, countless reasons to leave, yet underneath, an unbreakable emotional longing. Oddly enough, Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner kept coming to mind while I was reading this—likely because of its reflective portrayal of a parent–child relationship.

Ultimately, The Renovation was a refreshing change of pace from my usual thriller and horror reads: more introspective and serious, yet still delightfully quirky thanks to its unconventional setup and fluid, unpretentious writing style. There’s so much metaphor and symbolism to unpack that I know this story will stick with me for a long time.