Appropriately Weighty Look At Life After Loss. This historical fiction novel set in 1960s era Maryland – which plays a role in both some of the story and in some of the things that happen herein, and thus why it is worth mentioning – really does a rather terrific job of giving an appropriate amount of weight to moving on after the death of a spouse. It has its moments of comedy, as all life should, but it is far from a comedy book. It has its moments of utter despair, as life truly does, but it isn’t a super heavy book either.
Instead, Confino finds that near perfect balance between the two and uses both to show how life sucks at times – but there is also hope and joy to be found. There is peace. Moving on is *so* hard – but it *is* doable, and ultimately must be done.
As seems common across Confino’s books (now having read this one and 2024’s Behind Every Good Man), bigotry towards Jews in that era and their experiences coming out of not just Germany but also Russia and Eastern Europe in the years not-then-distant, do in fact play a role here, and Confino does an excellent job making these situations realistic without going into preachy territory. Similarly, once again this book is a celebration of all things Jewish as they relate to the time and place at hand in all its shades of good and not so great, from celebrating various cultural practices to discussions of the then-still-happening creation of suburbia and its implications for this specific cultural community.
But ultimately the true heart of this tale is family – a very specifically and intentionally Jewish family, yet still a family that anyone can relate to on that level. And it absolutely works. Most adults are going to have living parents that sometimes exasperate them. They’re going to have at least one in-law that can sometimes be difficult or meddling. (For what its worth, I got particularly lucky there. Seriously, my mother in law is damn near a saint, and my father in law is a fellow tech geek that I can nerd out with about tech any time. 🙂 ) They’re going to have kids that have their own lives and needs and wants – and grandparents that spoil them and have their own attitudes about how said kids should be raised. They’re going to have friends and pets and neighbors and people they know by sight because they’re always in the school pick up line or the grocery store or what have you at the same time. They’re going to have work colleagues that are amazing and work colleagues that are… let’s go with “not so amazing” ;). And all of this is here, making this book have that much more life and making it feel that much more real.
And when we get into the endgame here… well, it aint “Avengers! Assemble.”, but instead hits more along the lines of “My name is Andrew Shepherd, and I *am* the President.”. (An ancient reference and yet a damn fine movie with several excellent points in its climactic speech even ignoring the more explicitly partisan and plot based points.) In other words, you may be tempted to cheer out loud. I encourage you to do so, even in a library. If the librarian shushes you, tell them that this reviewer told them to shush, that this book needed that at that moment and that more importantly, you needed to do it in that moment. And yet, in the end, for all the bombast and comedy, it really is the quieter moments that really make this book everything that it is.
Very much recommended.
This review of Good Grief by Sara Goodman Confino was originally written on August 16, 2025.
