THIS IS NOT ABOUT US

Goodman offers an unsparingly frank, wryly funny take on a multigenerational American family.

Almost exactly one year after the publication of Goodman’s wonderful work of historical fiction, Isola, the author returns with a very different novel—yet one that is no less insightful, enthralling, and eminently enjoyable to read. This time, Goodman trains her gimlet eye on the complicated relationships between the members the fictional Rubinstein family—and finds both humor and pathos in a modern Jewish American clan. In the first chapter, three generations congregate around the death bed of Jeanne, who at age 74 is the youngest of the three Rubinstein sisters and yet, if she’ll ever release her iron grip on life, will be the first to die. The scene, in which Jeanne’s sons, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren; elder sisters Sylvia and Helen; and nieces and nephews gather to fuss and wait, might lend itself to sentimentality. Not in Goodman’s hands. By the end of the chapter, a squabble over an apple cake has blown up the relationship between Sylvia and Helen. The sisters are determined never to speak again. “That was the end,” Goodman writes. And yet it’s just the beginning of a novel that chronicles marriages and divorces, bat mitzvahs and ballet recitals, holidays and funerals, and finds within milestone events and quotidian moments the meaning—and madness—of family. As Goodman recounts the Rubinsteins’ sibling conflicts, grievances, and grudges, their parenting triumphs and failures, and the many ways they all love and infuriate, push away and yet crave to connect with one another, she holds up a mirror to us all. This Is Not About Us could have been called This Is All About Us or, perhaps, This Is About All of Us.

Like an exquisitely baked apple cake, Goodman’s delicious and deeply perceptive novel is something to savor.