God of the Woods by Liz Moore Book Review.

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Heads up: this book review contains spoilers! Do not read if you intend to read and be surprised!

Liz Moore’s literary mystery The God of the Woods left me with a pounding book hangover — I was captivated to the point that I would wake up in the middle of the night and read it until my eyes were too leaden to keep open, and once woke myself up early in the morning to give myself a window of time in which to enjoy it before my day started.

As a mystery, GOTW earns top marks for its whondunit mechanics. I was genuinely surprised by what happened to Bear Van Laar, and fell for many of the book’s red herrings — I thought Sluiter was too obvious to be true, but seriously contemplated Peter Van Laar II and even the grief-struck groundskeeper. (Had the groundskeeper been so inside out with the loss of his own son that he’d done something misguided? The carved bear!) What I find fascinating, and indicative of the book’s sophistication, is that although I kept suspecting foul play, in the end, we find a blundering cover-up for an accident, but an accident that could have been avoided if…well, if multiple generations’ worth of the Van Laar family’s wrongs were righted. There is a quote in the book where the captain investigating the crime comments: “I’m just saying — when you hear hoofbeats, don’t look for a zebra.” The sentiment is that the obvious answer is often the right one. And in this case, Moore gives us so many examples of the Van Laar family’s superciliousness, its imposition, its punching down, its self-obsession, its nefariousness that — well, why wouldn’t we assume it’s the family to blame? Their hoofbeats are clearest and most consistent. Interestingly, if you try to isolate one true villain responsible for Bear’s death and disappearance, you keep going upstream and find instead the book’s many villains, or rather the Van Laar family’s shared history of villainy. It is difficult to point your finger at any one culprit; instead, his death is at the hands of the toxic family “firm.”

Put differently, at its core, the mystery is — what happened to Bear Van Laar? The answer is: his mother, Alice, was so inebriated that she fell asleep instead of accompanying her son on their planned boating excursion, and he drowned. But instead of admitting this tragedy, the Van Laars secretly buried his body and lied to Alice. This was not done so much to coddle or shield Alice (arguably, the lack of resolution was an even crueler punishment than the truth, as she would spend the rest of her life in unsettled, heavily-drugged agony) as it was to preserve and protect the family’s name, and more specifically, their business interests. And Alice would arguably not have been drinking herself into a routine stupor if it weren’t for a) her husband’s infidelity with her sister Delphine (wowza), and b) the stifling and self-abnegating marriage she was more or less forced to accept, and in which she was constantly condescended to, and dismissed. There’s a fantastic line where Moore writes: “Delphine was ashamed, too, thought Alice; for the opposite reason that Alice was. For knowing too much, rather than too little. For a woman, neither was an acceptable way to be.” And so there is also a gender commentary here: one in which the bored, rich woman can find no acceptable way to live, and is instead trapped by her own circumstances. Alice seemed to me like the mythical minotaur: born to be lost in the Van Laar labyrinth. And yet she is the least sympathetic of victims, isn’t she? Her substance abuse, and her neglect of her second-born, are blood on her hands.

Moore’s indictment of the family takes on deeper meaning within the class politics that govern the book. Though the book is rife with clever misdirection, on this point Moore is crystal clear: there are the earnest and self-reliant locals, and then there are the imperious but needy Van Laars. It is difficult to find a single moment in the book in which we learn anything favorable about them, but we grow to appreciate the hardiness and self-reliance of the blue collar families that populate the novel, even with their various foibles. In the end, the only thing that breaks the Van Laar cycle is — well, new blood. Moore seems to be optimistic that younger generations can reject inherited ills and escape by listening to and learning from the people their families have historically taken advantage of. Barbara learns how to look out for herself thanks to TJ, and is able to abscond from the family because of the self-reliance she cultivates under her direction. Interestingly, though, Barbara’s complete escape is at the hands of another local — Judyta, who sacrifices her own chance at vainglory in order to protect Barbara. I found that parallel between the two “missing” Van Laar children particularly interesting. The Van Laars are able to hide their son’s death by soliciting the help of TJ’s father in burying him in the local terrain; Barbara is able to hide herself by making TJ and a young “local” investigator complicit in her own disappearance. While one cover-up damns the family, the other releases its youngest — but all would be impossible were it not for the intercession of the poorer locals who have served the Van Laars for generations.

There are many repetitions and multiplicities like this throughout the novel — the two families that live on the preserve (TJs and the Van Laars); the two sisters (who “share” a husband); the two children of Alice Van Laar, both of whom “go missing”); the multiple Peter Van Laars; the morning in which not only Barbara but her bunkmate go missing; etc. Most of these doublings seem to be in service of our misdirection as mystery readers: there are lots of ways in and out; lots of possibilities and forkings. Moore creates a 3D maze with multiple generations, across multiple years, embroiled in multiple evils. She brilliantly carries this out on a syntactical level through Bear’s name. Bear is actually named Peter Van Laar IV, but he breaks tradition (in many ways — he also seems to be universally loved and adored by all the characters unlike everyone else in his family) and goes by “Bear.” There is a moment in the book in which Alice comments on the multivalence of her son’s name. It’s the noun for an animal, but it’s also the verb for many other things — to carry, to bring, to support, to sustain, to assume responsibility for, to give birth to, to produce, to endure. Even on the narrowest point of his name, Bear becomes a site for mystery, for reading and misreading.

One big question I had was about the title — who or what is the god of the woods? We have the brief story at the beginning about the word panic, and how “it came from the Greek god Pan: the god of the woods. He liked to trick people, to confuse and disorient them until they lost heir bearings, and their minds. To panic was to make an enemy of the forest. To stay calm was to be its friend.” I kept revisiting this and thinking how Moore (the author) is the true god of the woods, and how the concept didn’t really play out clearly in the novel otherwise, but perhaps I’m misreading it.

What were your thoughts?

Post-Scripts.

+My other favorite book I’ve read in 2024.

+What was the last book that gave you a book hangover?

+A voice like good rivers. Or, a reminder to get out there and toast the people you love.

+Every phase is a good phase.

+Thoughts on the modern thriller as a genre.

Shopping Break.

+I’ve picked up and stopped several books since finishing God of the Woods. I can’t get over it! A girlfriend said she also loved the literary mystery All the Colors of the Dark as something similar to GOTW but possibly better in her opinion (?!) so I might go there next. Any other recs?

+Love this oversized denim shirt. Pair with ecru denim (<< obsessed with this pair) for a “right now” look.

+ICYMI: J. Crew released a long barn coat that people are loving, and they have an all-denim one similar to the Everlane I ordered.

+Pointelle pants! I’m obsessed with the idea of pairing these with an oversized button-down and ballet flats. Also pointelle: love this scoopneck tee.

+Look for less option for the Sezane cardigan I ordered! (I got the burgundy.)

+LOVE this polo sweatshirt.

+This laptop cover is ridiculously chic.

+Fun statement pants for fall. I own in the brown. Run just shy of TTS — a tad snug but totally wearable. I’d go up a size only if you’re really between sizes. (15% off with JEN-15).

+Pre-ordered my daughter this Taylor Swift sticker book.

+Blame it on my 90s/early aughts coming of age, but I’m drawn to these velour pants. Juicy 2.0. Actually intrigued by the entire new-to-me line…very chic silhouettes and mixable, upgraded basics.

+Have heard such good things about this children’s shampoo. I also need to take a minute to re-plug this $10 brush. It is SO GOOD at detangling and corraling all of her hair (she has a lot of it). We have four at this point — one in my daughter’s room, one in the bathroom, one she keeps in her backpack, one downstairs where I often do her hair before school.

+A very cute fair isle sweater.

+Love this heart necklace mixed in with a fall stack (20% off with jen20).

+These flats are SO GOOD.

+Cesta is offering 30% off its summer collection with code CARRYON. I own and love one of their lunchpail bags. It always feels like just the right thing when you’re going out to eat — whether a midday lunch with your mom, a glass of wine with a girlfriend, a dinner date with your spouse! It’s always exactly right.