Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

“Fire Exit” by Morgan Talty is a nuanced exploration of family, grief, memory, and inheritance in Indigenous culture, as seen through the eyes of Charles, a white man raised on an Indigenous reservation by Frederick, an Indigenous man. Charles, who has escaped the grips of alcoholism, leads a relatively stable sober life until his estranged mother re-enters his life with advancing memory loss, prompting him to consider reconnecting with his estranged daughter, Elizabeth, who doesn’t even know they are related. 

Talty’s novel is a delicate portrayal of estrangement, substance abuse, and intergenerational trauma within Indigenous communities. Through Charles’s journey, Talty unpacks the complexities of blood quantum laws and their detrimental impact on Indigenous identities, shedding light on how colonialism has disrupted concepts of belonging. As Charles grapples with his mother's declining memory, she often confuses him with Frederick, whose death in a hunting accident continues to haunt Charles. This confusion adds a layer of poignancy to the narrative, emphasizing themes of identity and memory.

Talty’s writing shines in his depiction of the intersections of class, Indigeneity, and the epidemic of substance abuse affecting almost every character. The novel’s strength lies in its exploration of Indigenous mental illness and familial dysfunction. Talty’s characters, particularly Charles, navigate the painful terrain of connecting with and feeling empowered by identities and the legacies they will leave behind.

However, the novel’s execution leaves much to be desired. While the themes are compelling, the prose is plain and unengaging. Charles, the protagonist, never fully takes shape, remaining formless even by the novel’s end. The narrative’s flow and pacing are disjointed, moving back and forth in time without maintaining a cohesive tempo. This, coupled with the bifurcated focus on Charles’s relationships with his mother and daughter, gives the sense of two separate novels awkwardly interwoven. Despite thematic overlaps, the abrupt shifts between these relationships create a jarring reading experience.

One of the most problematic aspects of the book is the random single use of the R slur towards the end. This derogatory term is spoken by Elizabeth, Charles’s daughter, and it’s one of her few lines in the entire book. The use of this slur felt unnecessary and ableist, lacking proper narrative context and severely detracting from any positive impact the novel might have had. This choice by the author overshadowed the entire narrative, making it a book I am unlikely to recommend.

In conclusion, while “Fire Exit” tackles important themes, its execution falters due to unremarkable prose, disjointed pacing, and an inexplicable use of ableist language. Talty’s exploration of Indigenous identities, mental health, and family dynamics is commendable, but these merits are overshadowed by the novel’s shortcomings. For readers deeply invested in stories about Indigenous experiences, there may be elements of value, but overall, this book misses the mark for a cohesive and respectful narrative.