A spellbinding novel of literary and psychological suspense about the dark secrets that surface after the shocking disappearance of a charismatic, mercurial teacher at an elite boarding school—by the legendary author ‘who is surely on any shortlist of America’s greatest living writers’ (New York Times Magazine)

‘Eerie, shocking, provoking, and beautifully written, Fox is yet further proof Oates is one of the greatest writers among us today’ Gillian Flynn

Who is Francis Fox? A charming English teacher new to the idyllic Langhorne Academy, Fox beguiles many of his students, their parents, and his colleagues at the elite boarding school, while leaving others wondering where he came from and why his biography is so enigmatic. When two brothers discover Fox’s car half-submerged in a pond in a local nature preserve and parts of an unidentified body strewn about the nearby woods, the entire community, including Detective Horace Zwender and his deputy, begins to ask disturbing questions about Francis Fox and who he might really be.

A hypnotic, galloping tale of crime and complicity, revenge and restitution, victim vs. predator, Joyce Carol Oates’s Fox illuminates the darkest corners of the human psyche while asking profound moral questions about justice and the response evil demands. A character as magnetically diabolical as Patricia Highsmith’s Tom Ripley and Vladimir Nabokov’s Humbert Humbert, Francis Fox enchants and manipulates nearly everyone around him, until at last he meets someone he can’t outfox. Written in Oates’s trademark intimate, sweeping style, and interweaving multiple points of view, Fox is a triumph of craftsmanship and artistry, a novel as profound as it is propulsive, as moving as it is full of mystery.

Let me just start with this: This book is beautifully written and masterfully executed. It’s literary fiction with teeth, and trust me when I say those teeth sink in fast and deep. But I can’t honestly say I “enjoyed” reading it. That might sound contradictory, but if you’ve ever read something that was undeniably brilliant and also made you squirm in your seat, then you’ll get what I mean.

This book is disturbing. Oates doesn’t use graphic gore or explicit language to get there. She doesn’t need to. She’s very surgical with her approach. She knows exactly how to make you understand the horror of what this man is doing without being overly direct or graphic. And that’s what makes it even more uncomfortable. There’s no hiding behind stylized violence or over-the-top villainy. It’s quiet and very realistic.

I’ve learned over the years that I do enjoy character-driven fiction, but only when the plot has forward momentum. Fox mostly delivers on that front. There’s a mystery at its center—a dead body, a missing man, a town asking questions—and that propels the story forward. But much of the tension comes from sitting uncomfortably close to characters I’d rather have spent less time with.

The novel centers on Francis Fox, a new middle school English teacher at an elite boarding school who charms his way into the hearts of students, parents, and faculty alike. Or most of them, anyway. From the start, there’s something off about him. Something slippery. Oates lets you know immediately that this man is not to be trusted, which is kind of a relief because you don’t waste time second-guessing your gut. You’re not supposed to like him. And believe me, I didn’t.

In fact, my biggest gripe with this book is that we spend way too much time in his head. Oates builds him so fully, so intimately, that it left me feeling like I needed to wash my brain out with bleach. Yes, he’s well-developed. Too well, if you ask me. He’s manipulative, self-pitying, and so deeply entitled it makes your skin crawl. I get what Oates is doing. This isn’t a novel meant to make you feel good, but I wish we’d spent more time with literally anyone else.

That said, the payoff is excellent. You know from the jump that Fox gets what’s coming to him. The novel opens with the mystery of his car being found submerged in a pond and pieces of a body scattered nearby. The rest of the story is a slow unraveling, threading through multiple perspectives to show how Fox wormed his way into this world and how his mask eventually cracked.

The supporting cast is solid. They don’t just serve as plot devices—they’re part of the emotional landscape of the book. Their growing discomfort, the ethical and moral wrestling they go through, all add depth. Oates doesn’t waste a character. Everyone has weight.

But I have to offer a strong content warning here: this book doesn’t shy away from themes of abuse, especially involving children. Oates never lingers on graphic details, but she makes the implications crystal clear. If that’s a trigger for you, proceed with caution. I had to put the book down more than once just to recenter myself.

Despite the discomfort, or maybe because of it, I can see why this book has earned so much praise. The writing is razor-sharp. The structure is tight. The shifting perspectives are handled with skill, and the pacing—while slow at times—never stalls out completely. There’s always a sense of foreboding, like something awful is creeping closer with every page.

In the end, this was one of those “glad I read it, don’t want to read it again” situations. The craftsmanship is undeniable. The prose is top-tier. But the experience of reading it was like watching a car crash in slow motion: you can’t look away, but you also kind of wish you could. If you’re in the mood for something dark, cerebral, and emotionally challenging, this book delivers. Just don’t expect it to deliver any warm and fuzzy feelings.