ANOTHER KIND OF FIRE

A graduate student struggles to overcome generations of inherited trauma and an existential crisis in Morris’ novel.

Jake Luria is pursuing a doctorate degree at Harvard and struggling under a significant amount of pressure. His research is not going well, adding to the animosity already expressed by his boss and colleagues. At home, Jake takes responsibility for keeping an eye on his twin sister, Sara, a brilliant physicist and lecturer at MIT who struggles with depression. After mental health episodes threaten Sara’s life, their “great uncle,” Sol, insists that Jake must serve as her eternal protector. However, his recent struggles with his research and the possibility that his thesis might face rejection mean that Jake must put in longer hours than usual. One night, Sara visits Jake in the lab and, after muttering the words “The flesh burns, but the letters fly free,” ingests a flask of phenol, a potentially fatal chemical. Jake is quick to rush her to the emergency room, where she narrowly survives the night. As Sara recovers in the hospital, Jake looks for answers as to why his sister would suddenly want to harm herself. With these answers come revelations of generational trauma and family secrets, and Jake must grapple with his own dwindling sense of self. From the first page of this stunning, melancholic story, readers will understand the amount of pressure Jake is under and will likely feel it themselves. Morris’ prose is honest and hauntingly poetic, evincing a deep, breathtaking emotionality. All of the characters are wonderfully complex, especially Jake, who, unlike some of his more clichéd counterparts in contemporary literature and film, is empathetic and thoughtful. While readers may initially blanch at the weight of the emotional subject matter, Morris treats the sensitive topics with care, delivering an enthralling read from cover to cover.

A haunting, slow-burning story about the hunger for connection and the pressures of family.