This book blew me away. There are so many fragments of the story that come back to me at the most random times, a sure sign that a book has really stuck with me.

It is not a spoiler to state that there is exactly one sex scene in ‘Small Rain’. It is awkward and unfulfilling, which I suppose makes it a prototypical Greenwell sex scene. But there is a tenderness that is also uniquely Greenwell, in this novel which is perhaps the most intimate and revealing he has yet written.

Parul Sehgal in The New Yorker of 9 September, in a review beautifully entitled ‘An Anatomist of Pleasure Gives Voice to the Body in Pain’, writes: Pain, it has been said, is the great censor, the eater of words. Pain shatters language; it remains untranslatable—not just anti-narrative but pre-narrative, calling us back to our first sounds.

Things are not going well for our eponymous narrator from Greenwell’s previous two books, who ends up in hospital with a rare vascular condition. His immigrant partner, known only as L, is stricken with worry and left to deal with the old house they are renovating as a couple. (The decrepit house could be a metaphor for the narrator’s damaged and stubborn body.)

Our narrator, who taught poetry in Bulgaria for a stint, is now a teacher at a college in Iowa. What keeps him going through the excruciating pain of his ‘infrarenal aortic dissection’ are memories of favourite poems, art, language. The title of the book comes from: “Westron wynde, when wyll thow blow, The small rayne downe can Rayne, a sentence with a broken back.”

One of the most stunning setpieces in the book, the setting of which is largely confined to the narrator’s hospital bed, is his recollection of teaching a poem – a true masterclass of description by Greenwell, who elevates it with such beauty and bewilderment that the reader is awestruck at the sheer power of language.

Herein, perhaps, is what has resulted in such a misinterpretation of the novel, that it is about a privileged dude who can afford the best specialist care thanks to his medical aid, without a thought of the countless pushed to the peripheries of the healthcare system.

He is really only inconvenienced at having to endure a full waiting room of sick and injured people hoping for some care and slight relief. Greenwell is simply not interested in making the same tired old comments about the collapsing healthcare system.

The book is apparently based on his own hospitalisation scare in 2020; the main theme is about how we take our health for granted, until something major happens and we are incapacitated, at the mercy (and fleeting kindnesses) of nurses and doctors, who themselves are inured to the indignities that the medical system inflicts upon its patients in the pursuit of its highest goal, health at any cost.

The narrator only wants to return to his partner, his house, and his job. But the reader knows that something fundamental has shifted in his worldview, and nothing will ever be the same again.

Beautifully written. Really enjoyed this book. There were parts I re-read because they were such relevant thoughts on life and how we perceive and experience it. I recommend the book wholeheartedly.

I’ve read a good few books set during proper Covid times and I still think I’m not quite ready, especially for one taking place largely in a hospital like Small Rain. That said, this is about so much more, with the very sick protagonist using his bed rest to explore all of the crevices of his life and memory.

Requested this arc because I read what Colm Tóibín, said. Kept on reading for the fascinating style of writing, the poignant and thought provoking story, the excellent storytelling
Loved it
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher for this ARC, all opinions are mine

I greatly enjoyed Greenwell's earlier book 'What Belongs to You', and its intensity. In 'Small Rain', that same intensity features, but in a very different, and significantly quieter way. Our narrator is focused instead on the strangeness of time when chronically ill- the ways that the smallest details become huge, and the hugest topics become meaningless in the face of just getting through the day.

Greenwell's observation of the smallest details was often breathtaking- his ability to find the magic and the mundane sitting beside each other, and the building anger and resentment, alongside its periods of calm, that goes with long-term illness. A wonder of a book.

will admit that i read what belongs to you and felt a bit like ??? yeah??? so what??? but now i think i might have just been in a bad mood or something.

this is defo the sort of thing you have to give time to. read it slowly. it delves so tightly into the minutiae of like a tree being lifted by a crane, the process of an IV being inserted, journeys through hospitals and procedures.

a beautiful slay. garth i did not know you were cool like this. i'll reread the other one and i'll read the others i think!

This was a gem of a book. I was hooked by Garth Greenwells prose that captured the situation of a gay man suddenly faced with his mortality and helplessness in the context of hospitalisation and the Covid pandemic. I felt for and with him, and loved the way the novel was at once about a very specific experience and fundamentally universal. There were moments when the poetic musings became too much for me, which is the only reason why it wasn't a five-star read. But I was always excited to pick it up and I will be thinking about this little book for a long time. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with a ARC of this great novel.

I found this telling of an academic’s hospital stay with a serious but unexplained illness deeply absorbing - it describes the experience of being in hospital in incredible detail and despite its length covers only 10 days or so. By coincidence, I was hospitalised the week after I read it and so much of what I read came back to me in visceral detail. Highly recommended and thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.

Set in a richly evocative landscape, the story follows a protagonist who is navigating complex emotions around love and sexuality, often reflecting Greenwell’s signature exploration of queer identity and intimacy. The narrative delves deeply into the character’s internal experiences, confronting questions of vulnerability, connection, and personal history.

With lyrical prose and deeply philosophical reflections, Small Rain is a novel that resonates on an emotional level, capturing the intricacies of relationships and the quiet moments of revelation that define one’s journey. Greenwell’s writing is nuanced and contemplative, making it a fitting read for those drawn to character-driven stories that probe the depths of human emotion and experience.

A tough read for me. It starts with a poet suffering excruciating pain, ending up in hospital and finding he has a tear in his aorta. he stays in hospital and I learnt more about the US hospital system than I necessarily wanted to. I found the book somewhat claustrophobic and a rather reminiscent of a House episode but the writing made it work for me.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC

A meticulous, intense and inward-looking book that is very absorbing to read as you follow the unnamed narrator through an excruciatingly painful medical episode. Nothing much happens, he falls very ill, is diagnosed and is cared for in various parts of a large US hospital until he is somehow well enough to go home.

But every sentence, every interaction is a marvel, the intimacy of the care of strangers and the random kindnesses, the panic and the fear over what might happen to him are so finely and acutely drawn I found I was reading while holding my breath.

Beautifully written and giving so much room to a deep meditation on pain, love and relationships, a wonderful read.

A very personal account of confronting a life-threatening illness and its impact on physical and psychological health. A powerful narrative that many people will be able to identify with attention to detail from the patient’s perspective. The patient journey with all its frustrations, mis-communication and uncertainty. This is balanced with the importance of a positive therapeutic relationship as highlighted with interactions with the empathetic nurse Alivia.
The kindness of strangers in a person’s most vulnerable state. Highly recommended for all healthcare professionals.

A traumatic but tender love story of a poet, struck down with a torn aorta, who has to succumb to the medical world.
As an ex nurse - and also a patient recovering from an almost fatal car accident- I totally understood how the minutaie of hospital life - is explored in this novel.
His acceptance as a patient and the growing institutionalisation of being inside a hospital was well described.
Small Rain is a n apt title for often when it seemed there was hope - disaster and often fear of death - rained on his parade.
It also showed clearly the way American healthcare works - with its insurance policies first and foremost before even a diagnosis.
Not totally what I wanted to read but it drew me into that ward, that bed, that body of suffering but eventual survival.

Garth Greenwell’s Small Rain is a profound exploration of intimacy and vulnerability, showcasing the author’s remarkable talent for capturing the human experience. The narrative follows an unnamed narrator, a poet and teacher in Iowa City, who grapples with a sudden, debilitating pain that leads him to confront a life-threatening medical issue. As he navigates the complexities of the American healthcare system during the COVID-19 pandemic, Greenwell skillfully delves into the narrator’s fears and uncertainties, highlighting his deep internal reflections and observations. Moments of beauty emerge, such as when the narrator sees a sparrow outside his window, prompting thoughts of a cherished poem that resonate with his emotional turmoil.

The relationship between the narrator and his partner, “L,” adds an intimate layer to the story, illustrating the profound care they share amidst their challenges. As they navigate the stress of new homeownership, the echoes of their struggles serve as a poignant reminder of the unknowns they face together. Small Rain is a deeply moving work that will resonate with readers familiar with Greenwell's previous novels. This latest offering reaffirms his status as a masterful writer, and I eagerly await his future projects.

Greenwell’s prose is so beautiful and lyrical, I often had to stop reading and consider how it was possible that these emotions were put to paper with such truthful simplicity. With this comes a devastating and at times uncomfortable read, but a life changing experience.

Happy publication day to Small Rain, and thanks to Picador, Garth Greenwell and NetGalley for the ARC. I really liked What Belongs to You, Greenwell's first novel, but this one is on another level. The story of a man who experiences a serious midlife health crisis, it's superb, easily one of the best books I've read this year.

The unnamed narrator is a poet living in the mid-west of America with his husband L when he suffers a sudden, agonising pain in his stomach that lasts for eight hours. The combination of a deep-seated suspicion of doctors and the fact that we're in the early months of the pandemic means that he doesn't go to hospital for several days, by which time, his situation is critical. Over the course of his time in hospital, he narrates how he feels, his treatment, and his thoughts on his life.

Small Rain reminded me most of Mike McCormack's Solar Bones (in which a man narrates his life story over the course of an hour). As with that book, Greenwell manages to convey a full sense of his narrator's experience in a way that feels quite natural, with one thought triggering another in such a way that the story of the narrator's existence is gradually revealed. The style also reminded me of what Marina Warner, writing of WG Sebald and Javier Marias described as "consciousness in flux". As befits a health crisis, however, the narrative is much more embodied than either of those writers and always comes back to the narrator's physical experience. The writing is beautiful, and much more readable than some attempts to render conscious thought, so this would be a good starting place if you want to try a stream of consciousness narrative.

Overall, I think this is a near-perfect novel and I can't praise it highly enough. The situations and characters feel true to life, and Greenwell captures the feelings of helplessness, frustration and waiting that characterise a health crisis, and the eerie separation of life during Covid perfectly. I would definitely recommend if you like thoughtful, moving novels about the big questions and big moments in life.

In "Small Rain", Garth Greenwell is so precise about what happens to an unnamed narrator who experiences a life-threatening medical condition. Greenwell painstakingly catalogues how his body becomes a slab of meat for the medical professionals to poke at, cut into, weigh, examine, etc. The narrator becomes a collection of body parts that need repaired. Since he suffers from something unusual for his age (I'm being vague as not to spoil it), the hospital staff sees him as a circuslike attraction. Anyone who has been hospitalised will understand this feeling; your body no longer belongs to you as the only physical touch you get is from the medical staff giving you another test, taking your blood, operating on you, etc.

Greenwell tells this story through the lens of the Covid pandemic where hospitals were often the worst place you would want to be when you were ill or in pain. It's not that long ago, but it feels like another lifetime when you relive what the narrator goes through to get better. As the narrator starts to process what is happening to him, he reflects back on his family life, his relationship with L (his partner he refuses to marry even though he would have to pay less for insurance premiums), their writing, etc. I found the book a compelling read because of the specificity of the details, and how Greenwell highlights how your mind drifts when you're trapped in a hospital bed. You go from subject to subject because the fear can almost too intense to bear.

With that said, the novel is a tad too long at over 300 pages. It could have lost about 25 pages and been just as effective. Leaving that aside, the novel is compelling and another first-rate work from Garth Greenwell.

I have no idea why I have not read American author Garth Greenwell up to now. I’ve been interested enough to buy his two previous novels as soon as they came out in paperback but they are still unread on my shelves. With this new title being one of the highlights of Picador Book’s Autumn release schedule in the UK I thought this was a good place to start. I’m so glad I did.
Reading a brief synopsis I wasn’t sure how this would appeal to me. A man in his forties gets suddenly seriously ill of something other than Covid at the time of the pandemic. Much of this book is his experience in hospital. Latent hypochondria and general medical squeamishness would suggest this book is not the best match for me, but I was drawn in right from the outset and it never loosened its grip. It’s meticulously detailed, in fact, it’s hard to believe it’s a novel. I don’t know whether the author has experienced anything similar but this level of observation certainly makes it feel autobiographical, although I’m not sure that many of us, in the character’s situation would be able to focus so closely on the procedures carried out and the care he is receiving. In his hospital bed he becomes increasingly insular- only one daily visitor for a short period and there is little to do than focus on his health. There is a distinct Proustian feel as events trigger things from his life before his health emergency and as the novel progresses we get to know more about him in a way which feels totally convincing.
There’s a strong literary and poetic feel to this work. Both the main character and his partner, referred only to as L, are poets and some of the digressions away from the medical involve the work of poets which got a little technical for me in places but fits in well with the work as a whole.
I think that this is one of those books that will linger on (I think if at any time in the future, should I have a medical procedure, or God forbid, a hospital stay, it will certainly come back to mind). It is life-affirming and full of hope, even when situations seem terrifying or desperate. It also underlines again, just how difficult things were during that strange period. It will reward re-reading.
All in all, a book I thought I might struggle with from a bare description and its setting has proved to be a tremendous reading experience and will certainly encourage me to get those two other novels by this author off my shelves as soon as possible.

In Small Rain, Garth Greenwell’s unnamed narrator recounts the beginning of his illness and treatment in hospital in Iowa during the pandemic, drip-feeding biography as he goes. That may not sound appealing but it is: I read the first (longish) chapter in one go, one breath almost. Small episodes in the hospital narrative act as well-timed springboards to reminiscences of past events.
Despite the 2020 setting, this isn’t a pandemic-heavy novel (his illness is not Covid-related): it’s referenced with a light touch and to provide a contrast to, and yearning for, earlier times. The close-up view of the workings of the hospital, though, is compelling. There are such differences in approach by the nurses: some are all brisk efficiency, others, notably Alivia, taking the time to explain the routines and oddities of life in the ICU. No matter how good the medical knowledge and facilities are, it’s bedside manner and kindness that make the difference.
Small Rain also contains meditation on poetry, the natural world, love and family; there is a beautiful analysis of a poem. It’s perfectly timed; we learn almost nothing of his mother until he finally lets her know he’s ill. One of the things I love about fiction is the opportunity to experience a different slice of life. Ostensibly I have almost nothing in common with the narrator but I was happy to spend time with him and you might be too.