There is much talk amongst readers about a desk being the object that connects these diverse characters through distance and time. In the second portion of the book, we spend some time with each of them again. Izzy is recounting a very slightly surreal love affair. And finally we hear from Izzy, the youngest and sexiest of the narrators. Next is Arthur Bender–British and proper, the insecure husband of Holocaust survivor Lotte Berg, a woman with secrets. She is explaining her life to someone she addresses as “Your Honor.” Next we are with Aaron, an elderly Israeli reflecting upon the death of his beloved wife and his strained relationship with his son, Dov. The book opens with 50-something Nadia, a solitary novelist living in New York. Each of those parts is comprised of four lengthy monologues–with the exception of the novel’s powerful final pages. Or perhaps “confessions” is the more accurate word. There is virtually no white space on the pages, just long, almost unbroken paragraphs that make up a series of monologues.

If you flip through the pages of the book, you’ll notice something right away. It’s not that Great House isn’t, well, great, but it is challenging. And her insight into complex emotional lives is dazzling. I don’t think Nicole Krauss is capable of publishing a novel worth less than five stars. You’ll note that I still awarded it five stars. Truthfully, this latest novel is my least favorite of the three. Suffice it to say, I’ve been looking forward to Great House for a long time. After that, I back-tracked and read her almost-as-delightful debut novel, Man Walks into a Room. That was the beginning of my crush on Nicole Krauss.

Great house novel