Fates and Furies
New York Times bestseller
THE NUMBER ONE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
'Enough betrayal, vengeance and sex to read like one of the Greek tragedies' Observer
'Devastatingly good' Guardian
'Astonishingly beautiful' Financial Times
'Addictive to read' Stylist
'Rich, lyrical and rewarding' Paula Hawkins
Every story has two sides.
Every relationship has two perspectives.
And sometimes, it turns out, the key to a great marriage is not its truths but its secrets.
'Groff is a writer of rare gifts' New York Times
'Sexy and achingly beautiful' Good Housekeeping
'A really powerful novel' Barack Obama
'A book to submit to and be knocked out by' Meg Wolitzer
APPLE BOOKS REVIEW
The writing in this dazzling novel will take your breath away. Married couple Mathilde and Lotto have the kind of life others envy—they’re beautiful, successful, wealthy and madly in love. But perfection is an illusion. American author Lauren Groff (who wrote the enchanting Monsters of Templeton and Arcadia) finds inventive ways to burrow beneath the surface of Mathilde and Lotto’s story, revealing the troubling obstacles and secrets paving their paths.
In a swirling miasma of language, plot, and Greek mythology, Groff (Arcadia) weaves a fierce and gripping tale of true love gone asunder. Told in two interwoven parts, the fable-like story of Lancelot (Lotto) and Mathilde's 24-year marriage unfolds, first from Lotto's perspective, then Mathilde's. "Fates," the first part, takes readers through Lotto's mopey years as a failed actor living in "glamorous poverty" in New York City's Greenwich Village, his overnight success as a playwright, his struggles with aging, his perpetually hungry ego, his estrangement from his millionaire mother, and his gleeful infatuation with and dependency on his pale, bewitching wife. Meanwhile, Mathilde's all-consuming adoration for her husband doesn't completely jive with the dark secrets she's hiding from him. Of course, there's always the sex. Groff's prose is variously dewy, defiant, salacious, and bleak a hurricane of words thrown together on every page. Yet so much of the power in this book lies in what's unspoken Lotto's bottomless sorrow and self-pity flanked by Mathilde's white-hot rage and, later, her thirst for revenge. There are moments when the writing feels self-indulgent, but, for the most part, it's an intoxicating elixir. Perhaps Groff herself says it best: "It was less a story than a great creature surfacing from the deep; it was more sudden audible wave than narrative."