A timely and urgent novel following a young married couple on a road trip through the American southwest as they grapple with the breakdown of their relationship in the shadow of environmental collapse, for fans of Rachel Cusk and Sigrid Nunez.

In November 2018, Eloise and Lewis rent a car in Las Vegas and take off on a two-week road trip across the American southwest. While wildfires rage, the married couple make their way through Nevada, California, Arizona, and Utah, tracing the course of the Colorado River, the aquatic artery on which the Southwest depends for survival. Lewis, an artist working for a prominent land art foundation, is grieving the recent death of his mother, while Eloise is an academic researching the past and future of the Colorado River as it threatens to run dry.

Over the course of their trip, Eloise, beginning to suspect she might be pregnant, helplessly witnesses Lewis’s descent as he struggles to find a place for himself in the desert where he never quite felt at home.

Elegy, Southwest is a novel which entwines a tragic love story with an intelligent and profound consideration of the way we now live alongside environmental breakdown; an elegy for lost love and for the landscape that makes us.

I received a complimentary copy of this book courtesy of the publisher. All thoughts are my own.

Sometimes a book comes out of nowhere and blows you away when you least expect it. I’d not heard of this one until I saw it on a publisher pick list. The blurb grabbed me, so I gave it a chance, and I’m not sorry I did. It’s beautifully written and quietly devastating.

Eloise and Lewis are married and take a road trip through the American southwest in 2018. Wildfires are burning across the region. They drive through Nevada, California, Arizona, and Utah, following the Colorado River. Lewis is an artist working for a land art foundation, and he’s grieving the recent death of his mother. Eloise is an academic researching the Colorado River, which is running dangerously low and threatening to run dry. Over the course of their trip, she starts to suspect she might be pregnant. And she watches helplessly as Lewis descends deeper into his grief, struggling to find a place for himself in a world where he never quite felt at home.

The writing is beautiful and almost poetic. I loved these characters, and you’ll be shocked to hear me say this, but this is an instance where the second-person narration type really worked for me. Mostly because the book reads like a letter from a wife to her missing husband. It felt necessary here, so I can proudly say, this is a book that got that POV right. I don’t think it would have been as powerful without it.

The characters are rich and complex. I loved the dynamic between Eloise and Lewis. Their relationship felt real, as did their struggles. They’re not just going through the motions. They’re trying to hold onto something that’s slipping away, and you can feel it in every interaction. Lewis was especially heartbreaking because of the way he struggled with his mother’s death. He’s searching for ways to cope with the pain and his grief through drugs, counseling, meditation. He really wanted to heal, but grief doesn’t work on a timeline, and watching him try everything and still sink deeper was gutting.

Eloise is also a compelling character. She’s watching her husband fall apart while also grappling with the possibility that she might be pregnant. She’s researching a river that’s dying while trying to hold together a marriage that might be doing the same. The weight of all of that is immense, and the book doesn’t shy away from it.

The environmental breakdown happening around them mirrors the breakdown of their relationship. The wildfires. The dying river. The landscape that’s both beautiful and brutal. It all reflects what’s happening between Eloise and Lewis. The book doesn’t hit you over the head with this, but it’s there in every scene.

I also really loved how the book ended. The last sentence really touched me. It’s heartbreaking but hopeful. I won’t spoil it, but it stayed with me long after I finished.

This is a book about love and loss and environmental collapse and the way we live now. It’s an elegy for a relationship and for a landscape. And it does all of this with restraint and grace. It’s quiet and devastating and beautiful. If you’re a lit fic lover or drawn to character-driven stories about relationships falling apart, or novels with unconventional narration that actually works, this is worth your time.