(Pub date 10/6/2026)
If you are familiar with the works of Barbara Kingsolver, then it should come as no surprise that Partita is another beautifully written examination of the human condition. She has a way of making tragedy sound eloquent. As is also true of many of Kingsolver’s previous works, this book explores some of the eccentricities (or maybe just colloquialisms?) familiar to us Southerners.
Partita is a quiet, introspective book about grief, relationships, memory, and the complicated ways we carry the past with us. It follows the life of Livia, a musical prodigy, as she navigates her first love, college life far away from her Tennessee home, her tumultuous relationship with her mother, a horrible accident, her brother’s suicide, and the heartbreak that sets in motion a devastating chain of events. It’s a little sad, but there’s also something insightful about the way Kingsolver explores the things that shape us and the choices we make in response to them. She reminds us that sometimes settling for less isn’t settling at all but, rather, a path to so much more.
I admit that I found the book a bit slow, but that didn’t necessarily bother me. (I can handle a slow book; see this month’s review of Bad Words as evidence). There was even something fitting about the slower pace given the reflective nature of the story.
I didn’t love Partita, but I did appreciate it. Kingsolver’s writing, as always, is lovely, thoughtful, and quietly devastating. She captures the sadness and complexity of being human. While this book did not completely sweep me away, it did make me stop at several points to think about my past in relation to Livia’s experiences. For that, at the very least, this book gets my recommendation.
reviewed by April James
