Thoroughly enjoyed "Fair Ones." Millet did a fabulous job creating multidimensional characters, close friends who shared the loss of a Claire, who died by gun violence. The novel is broken up by seasons. The first year after Claire dies is told by Jen, the second half, one year after Claire's death, is told by Mara, who is plagued by a dark secret. The three women were close friends for years, and in their 40's they remained unmarried and childless. There's a bit of mystique surrounding why the young boy shot their friend and some sleuthing in the search for answers. But it's not just a novel about the murder, the other characters in the novel become integral in the way they weave their lives after Claire's funeral and move the novel forward. Much of the novel is conversational, and even though it's a novel that deals with grief, it's also lighthearted and funny, a fast-paced novel that is a joy to read.

I found this to be a moving novel that transpired in unexpected ways. It lacks a traditional arc and it meandered, but I didn't mind that overall as the characters were well drawn and the overall story components were fascinating. It's an insight look at growing up, growing old, loving, and grieving. Very worthwhile.

Lydia Millet's Fair Ones is an extremely well executed double novel that finds strength in character development, authentic dialogue, multiple points of intrigue and moments of unforgettable prose.
Two Brooklyn friends are faced with the sudden loss of their best friend and process the event during their own portion of the novel. Each part showcases a unique character perspective that covers themes of friendship, death, and change that take place during two different timelines.
We follow Mara first, directly after the shock of their friend's death and Jen second, a year after the events take place.
Millet's use of humor through tragedy truly sets her apart from modern literary fiction authors. She grounds her beautiful prose through these women in a refreshingly simple and human way while perforating darkness with levity.
I enjoyed the entire book and highly recommend!
Thanks W. W. Norton and NetGalley for the advanced review copy.

Fair Ones begins without a main character. Claire is dead, suddenly and bafflingly, and her best friends Mara and Jen, are trying to make sense of what happened to Claire. Lydia Millet structures the book as a double novel: "Fair", told through Mara’s account in the immediate aftermath of Claire’s killing, and "Ones," told from Jen’s perspective a year later. The result is a novel about grief, friendship, and middle age.

Mara and Jen are Brooklyn women in their forties, and Millet is very good on the texture of that stage of life. Claire’s death gives the novel its central mystery, but *Fair Ones* is less interested in solving a crime than in exploring the emotional aftermath of a person becoming unreachable. Mara and Jen keep circling Claire because grief does not move in a straight line.

What I loved most is the dialogue. This is a talky book: fast, cutting, funny, and full of the little evasions and performances that make friendships feel real on the page. Millet understands that women’s conversations can hold everything at once: gossip, moral philosophy, pettiness, fear, generosity, complaint, and devotion. Mara and Jen do not become noble because they are grieving. They remain difficult, funny, perceptive, self-protective, and exhausting. That makes the book more honest than a more sentimental version of this story would have been.

The double structure also works beautifully because it lets the reader feel the shift between the first impact of loss and the later, stranger period when life has continued but the person who died is still central. Mara’s section has the rawness of initial shock, while Jen’s later perspective brings in new relationships and buried information. Together, the two halves ask What remains of a friendship after one friend is gone and the remaining friends are left to interpret her, argue with her memory, and revise the story of who she was?
Lydia Millet has written a strange, smart, emotionally exact book about midlife friendship and I loved it!

#FairOnes #LydiaMillet #WWNorton #NetGalley

Loved this. It's alive with funny little very contemporary conversations, just the kind of thing that hooks me in and keeps me turning pages, and stuff HAPPENS, too, really quite dramatic events from time to time, but the conversations and little personal revelations are the focus. And there's a sincerity to them beyond the surface cleverness of the characters' banter. I'm so won over by Jen's being won over by sixteen-year-old Josh and his Meaning of Life in the wilderness talk, which literally got me kind of choked up. Best read of the year so far.

This book has such an interesting concept! I feel like in a world where many books being published feel very similar to each other this was extremely refreshing. I had never read a double novel before this and I'm not sure how common they are but I really enjoyed the comparison of how each life was affected by the passing. This is a book I will be thinking about in years to come.

This is really a Lydia Millet two-fer, with two complete but intertwined novels in one volume. I really enjoyed the experience of visiting events twice from different perspectives. I also appreciated the integration of nature, which Millet does so well. Overall, I found it fast-paced and thought-provoking.

Thank you to W. W. Norton & Company and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review an ARC of this book.

I loved Lydia Millet’s A Children’s Bible and had been meaning to read another book of hers. I am so glad I was able to read the Fair Ones and experience another of her lovely, thoughtful, bittersweet books. Her writing manages to be beautiful and insightful while also being quite witty. The double novel structure was a little jarring when the switch happened, but overall I found it an effective way of progressing the narrative while also bringing in a second perspective/point of view character. I enjoyed both Mara and Jen’s POVs (Mara’s a bit more because she is more open and kind, but Jen was also very interesting). As with Millet’s other work, both women are complex, nuanced characters. I am drawn to books where characters are long-time friends and this group felt realistic in their conflicts and connections.

Lydia Millet’s Fair Ones is a double novel that navigates the complex aftershocks of grief and trauma with remarkable compassion and sharp wit. The conversational rhythm often reminded me of Seinfeld and Aaron Sorkin (with an occasional dash of Sartre’s No Exit when I wasn't interested). The characters trade banter over hyper-specific digressions ranging from bathroom floor toenail clippings to Orlando Bloom’s hair in The Hobbit.

Depending on your tolerance for philosophical ping-pong, these rhythmic exchanges might divide readers, but Millet ensures every figure feels fully realized. From elderly parents and their circle of friends right down to the family parakeets, no character gets shortchanged in this warm, deeply observant portrait of friendship and family ties.

Millet excels at capturing the quiet, messy reality of moving forward in the wake of sudden loss. The dual-perspective split between Fair and Ones offers a subtle reframing of relationships and hidden dimensions rather than dramatic plot mechanics, making for a bittersweet, finely tuned character study of midlife companionship.

A slow paced (but exquisitely written and perversely engaging) novel rich in insightful discourse and doubly rich in character depth. At the core is a trio of best friends: Mara, Jen, and Claire — single New Yorkers operating at various edges of the wealthy. Claire — a high school guidance counselor and beauty queen; Mara a tutor for prep school students; and Jen the brainy former journalist and culture editor. It’s billed as a double novel — part one is Mara’s story, launched immediately after Claire’s sudden and violent death; part two is Jen’s story, taken up a year later and continuing with the evolving relationships, secrets, and healing.

I loved this book for the very real and thoroughly explored lives in relation to the catastrophic experience and the mad swirl of collateral damage resulting. New friendships, new discoveries, new reactions, new regrets, new hopes. The plot progresses, sometimes in very surprising (but utterly believable) ways. Social commentary throughout in characters’ thoughts, reactions, and evolving sense of self. Plenty of existential considerations as well as political discussions and a sense of societal duty (rather than entitlement). I found so many great quotes. I liked the fact that each character worked hard at understanding what made a “good person” and how they could best achieve that label, while also having the awareness of the layers of hypocrisy that lurk just below the surface. I also liked how well the author painted people from the different perspectives of the other characters through the kind of dialog / discussions we all have.

Quintessentially a New York story, and yet, typical for stories about New Yorkers, the characters are all NY transplants and so we travel from a Jain community in California, to the woods in Maine, to elite boarding schools, to high priced, drug infused Wall Street lofts in discovery of backstories. We consider white collar crime, dementia without financial resources, and the search for meaningful occupation. And we are surprised with a creeping, surreptitious solution to a mystery we didn’t know existed. We “join” in the discussion of a wide variety of topics from multiple perspectives on everything from climate change to the pros and cons of capitalism, to the real meaning of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree (that was a hoot). Millet’s books have a kind of dream like quality for me because I feel like I am occupying so many different heads at once. I loved this book.