In the shadowy forests of upstate New York, where ancient pines whisper secrets and mountain lakes mirror the sky, Liz Moore’s latest novel “The God of the Woods” unfolds like a fever dream. It’s a story that seeps into your bones, as chilling and inescapable as the damp Adirondack mist. With echoes of Donna Tartt’s “The Secret History” and shades of Delia Owens’ “Where the Crawdads Sing,” Moore weaves a tapestry of privilege, loss, and the primal wildness that lurks both in nature and in the human heart.
A Tale of Two Disappearances
At its core, “The God of the Woods” is a mystery—or rather, two mysteries braided together across time. In the summer of 1975, thirteen-year-old Barbara Van Laar vanishes from her bunk at Camp Emerson, a rustic summer retreat nestled in the shadow of her family’s grand estate. The déjà vu is stomach-churning: sixteen years earlier, Barbara’s older brother Bear disappeared from these same woods, never to be seen again.
Moore masterfully ratchets up the tension as the search for Barbara unfolds. We’re drawn into a labyrinth of suspects and secrets, where everyone from the camp counselors to Barbara’s own family might have blood on their hands. But this is no simple whodunit. As the investigation deepens, Moore peels back layers of history, revealing the rot beneath the polished veneer of the Van Laar dynasty and the simmering resentments of the working-class community that serves them.
A Chorus of Voices
One of Moore’s greatest strengths is her ability to inhabit multiple perspectives, breathing life into a diverse cast of characters. We see the world through the eyes of Louise, a young camp counselor grappling with her own demons; Judy Luptack, a rookie state police investigator determined to prove herself in a man’s world; and Alice Van Laar, Barbara’s mother, trapped in a gilded cage of grief and addiction.
Each voice is distinct and achingly human. Moore has an uncanny ear for dialogue and inner monologue, capturing the cadences of 1970s small-town America with pitch-perfect accuracy. You can almost smell the pine needles and hear the loons calling across the lake as you sink into these richly drawn lives.
The Weight of the Past
As in her previous novels “Long Bright River” and “The Unseen World,” Moore explores how the sins of the past echo through generations. The Van Laar family’s wealth and power cast a long shadow over the region, and we gradually uncover the ugly truths behind their carefully curated facade. Bear’s disappearance years ago haunts every page, a wound that has never truly healed.
Moore deftly weaves flashbacks throughout the narrative, slowly revealing the events leading up to both Bear and Barbara’s disappearances. These glimpses into the past are like shards of broken glass—sharp, glittering, and dangerous. They force us to question everything we think we know about the characters and their motivations.
A Meditation on Class and Power
While the central mystery drives the plot forward, “The God of the Woods” is equally concerned with examining the stark divide between the haves and have-nots in this insular community. The Van Laars and their wealthy guests float above it all in their grand estate, while the locals struggle to make ends meet, dependent on seasonal work at the camp and estate for survival.
Moore doesn’t shy away from the ugliness of this inequality. We see how power corrupts and how those without it are left to pick up the pieces. The resentment simmers just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. It’s a nuanced exploration of class in America that feels painfully relevant to our current moment.
Coming of Age in the Wilderness
Amidst the adult drama, Moore gives us a poignant coming-of-age story through the eyes of Tracy, Barbara’s bunkmate and reluctant confidante. Tracy’s journey from insecure outsider to someone grappling with hard truths about the adult world is beautifully rendered. Her tentative friendship with Barbara and her crush on an older camper capture all the bittersweet intensity of adolescence.
Through Tracy, we’re reminded of the vulnerability of childhood and the sometimes harsh realities of growing up. Her storyline provides a counterpoint to the darker elements of the novel, offering moments of genuine warmth and humor amidst the gathering storm.
Nature as Character
The Adirondack wilderness is more than just a backdrop in “The God of the Woods”—it’s a living, breathing presence that shapes every aspect of the story. Moore’s descriptions of the landscape are lush and evocative, bringing the setting to vivid life. The forest becomes a character in its own right, alternately menacing and awe-inspiring.
There’s a palpable sense of how small and insignificant humans are in the face of this vast wilderness. The characters are dwarfed by ancient trees and endless sky, reminding us of our own mortality. Nature here is indifferent to human concerns, operating on a timescale beyond our comprehension. It’s a humbling perspective that adds depth to the human drama unfolding within its bounds.
Unraveling the Mystery
As the search for Barbara intensifies, Moore keeps us guessing until the very end. Red herrings abound, and just when you think you’ve figured it out, she pulls the rug out from under you. The pacing is relentless, with short chapters and multiple viewpoints creating a sense of urgency that mirrors the frantic search.
Without giving away any spoilers, I’ll say that the resolution is both surprising and deeply satisfying. Moore doesn’t opt for easy answers or neat bows. Instead, she leaves us with lingering questions and moral ambiguities that will haunt you long after you’ve turned the final page.
A Master at Work
With “The God of the Woods,” Liz Moore cements her place as one of the most exciting voices in contemporary fiction. Her prose is elegant yet accessible, with moments of startling beauty punctuating the darkness. She has a gift for creating complex, flawed characters that linger in your mind like old friends (or enemies).
Fans of Moore’s previous work will recognize her talent for blending genres. While primarily a literary thriller, “The God of the Woods” incorporates elements of historical fiction, coming-of-age tales, and even a touch of the supernatural. It’s a heady mix that keeps you on your toes, never quite sure what to expect next.
Final Thoughts
“The God of the Woods” is a novel that demands to be devoured in long, greedy gulps. It’s the kind of book that will keep you up way past your bedtime, promising yourself “just one more chapter” until suddenly it’s 3 AM and you’re blinking in disbelief at the final page.
Moore has crafted a story that is at once a gripping page-turner and a profound meditation on power, privilege, and the secrets we keep from others—and ourselves. It’s a book that will make you think twice about that idyllic summer camp in the woods or the grand old families with their fingers in every local pie.
As summer fades into memory and the nights grow longer, “The God of the Woods” is the perfect companion for those who like their reading dark, complex, and utterly engrossing. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself jumping at shadows in the forest or eyeing your neighbors with newfound suspicion. Some stories, like the ancient pines of the Adirondacks, put down deep roots in your psyche and refuse to let go.