Book Review: We All Live Here by Jojo Moyes
As a long-time fan of Jojo Moyes, I couldn’t resist the allure of her latest work, We All Live Here. I first fell in love with her writing through Me Before You, a book that resonated with many of us on such a profound level that I knew Moyes would be one of my go-to authors for life. So when I got my hands on an ARC from NetGalley, I dove in with eager anticipation, ready for another emotional journey.
At the heart of We All Live Here is Lila Kennedy, a character who at times felt like a reflection of my own struggles. After a tumultuous divorce, Lila finds herself navigating the complexities of single motherhood, a strained relationship with her daughters, awkward plumbing issues, and her quirky stepfather moving in uninvited. From the onset, the weight of Lila’s situation feels palpable, and my heart went out to her as she grapples with her identity amidst all this chaos. However, I found myself oscillating between empathy and frustration; it was hard to watch Lila act as a bystander in her own life, especially given her age and circumstances.
Moyes skillfully threads themes of familial bonds, self-identity, and the messiness of life throughout the narrative. Yet, Lila’s challenges with agency became a double-edged sword for me. While I rooted for her, I also wished she would take decisive action rather than remaining beholden to the whims of those around her. Whenever new romantic possibilities emerged, I cringed at the obvious red flags that Lila seemed to overlook—"just open up YouTube and OWN it, girl!" kept rolling around in my mind.
The relationship dynamic between Lila and her estranged biological father added another layer to the story, but it often felt sidelined amid the multiple plotlines. Moyes introduced chapters from Lila’s daughter Celie that added little depth and seemed more like filler than a substantial contribution to the narrative. It felt as though Lila’s journey alone would have been more than sufficient for a compelling read, and additional perspectives could have been more impactful had they come from characters closer to her emotional core.
That said, Moyes brilliantly orchestrated an emotional crescendo towards the end—a denouement that tied various plot threads together beautifully. In a way that harkens back to Me Before You, the act of selfless love offered a satisfying resolution, layered with the warmth that has come to characterize Moyes’ work. It was this careful crafting of emotions and tangible connections that ultimately tipped those metaphorical balance scales toward enjoyment.
We All Live Here isn’t just a reflection on the homes we inhabit; it speaks to the deeper notion of belonging and finding one’s place in the world—a theme that resonates universally. As I turned the last page, I felt a pang of nostalgia for the characters I had come to know and love, reminding me of the summer drives with the wind in my hair and that perfect song resonating in my soul.
In conclusion, I would recommend We All Live Here to fans of Moyes and any reader who appreciates poignant explorations of family dynamics and self-discovery amidst life’s chaos. Despite its pacing issues and moments of frustration, the genuine warmth and intricate character development reminded me why Moyes remains a constant in my reading life. If you’re seeking a book that marries wit with emotion, this one might just hit that sweet spot. And trust me, you’ll be left craving a summer escape with the top down. 🚗🌍🏠
4 stars, rounded up from 3.5.