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Fire Exit
ŷ Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Debut Novel (2024)The blood that came out of me was blood that ran through her veins. It’s strange: all blood looks the same, yet it’s different, we’re told, in so many various ways and for so many various reasons. But one thing is for certain, I thought: you are who you are, even if you don’t know it.
From the porch of his home, Charles Lamosway has watched the life he might have had unfold across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. On the far bank, he caught brief moments of his neighbor Elizabeth’s life—from the day she came home from the hospital to her early twenties. But there’s always been something deeper and more dangerous than the river that divides him from her and the rest of the tribal community. It’s the secret that Elizabeth is his daughter, a secret Charles is no longer willing to keep.
Now, it’s been weeks since he’s seen Elizabeth, and Charles is worried. As he attempts to hold on to and care for what he can—his home and property; his alcoholic, quick-tempered, and bighearted friend Bobby; and his mother, Louise, who is slipping ever deeper into dementia—he becomes increasingly haunted by his past. Forced to confront a lost childhood on the reservation, a love affair cut short, and the death of his beloved stepfather, Fredrick, in a hunting accident—a death he and Louise are at odds over as to where to lay blame—Charles contends with questions he’s long been afraid to ask. Is his secret about Elizabeth his to share? And would his daughter want to know the truth, even if it could cost her everything she’s ever known?
From the award-winning author of Night of the Living Rez, Morgan Talty’s debut novel, Fire Exit, is a masterful and unforgettable story of family, legacy, bloodlines, culture and inheritance, and what, if anything, we owe one another
From the porch of his home, Charles Lamosway has watched the life he might have had unfold across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. On the far bank, he caught brief moments of his neighbor Elizabeth’s life—from the day she came home from the hospital to her early twenties. But there’s always been something deeper and more dangerous than the river that divides him from her and the rest of the tribal community. It’s the secret that Elizabeth is his daughter, a secret Charles is no longer willing to keep.
Now, it’s been weeks since he’s seen Elizabeth, and Charles is worried. As he attempts to hold on to and care for what he can—his home and property; his alcoholic, quick-tempered, and bighearted friend Bobby; and his mother, Louise, who is slipping ever deeper into dementia—he becomes increasingly haunted by his past. Forced to confront a lost childhood on the reservation, a love affair cut short, and the death of his beloved stepfather, Fredrick, in a hunting accident—a death he and Louise are at odds over as to where to lay blame—Charles contends with questions he’s long been afraid to ask. Is his secret about Elizabeth his to share? And would his daughter want to know the truth, even if it could cost her everything she’s ever known?
From the award-winning author of Night of the Living Rez, Morgan Talty’s debut novel, Fire Exit, is a masterful and unforgettable story of family, legacy, bloodlines, culture and inheritance, and what, if anything, we owe one another
243 pages, Hardcover
First published June 4, 2024
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October 21, 2024
Making lemonade out of a lemon life sounds like a pretty good alternative when life hands you a pile of rubble instead, and Charles could probably use a glass since he’s had to battle sobriety for 22 years now. Fire Exit, the debut novel from Morgan Talty who awed critics and readers alike with his short story collection , interrogates personal history caught in the teeth of governmental gears where heritage and identity are questions of paperwork and lived experiences are subjected to the erasure of time and failing memory. It is a sobering story of swallowing guilt and regret that would melt under its own melancholia were it not for Talty’s ability to make each scene so direct and gut wrenching as if the prose were being drug through the shattered glass of the American dream. �I knew and still know what it was like to both not belong and belong,� Talty’s narrator states, and this dichotomy is something Charles will grapple with as we watch the slow burn deterioration of his life lead up to a decision to tell his daughter the truth about her past while also watching the deterioration of his own mother to dementia, taking the untold stories of his life along with her. Fiercely moving and heartbreaking, Fire Exit is an empathetic look at navigating the labyrinthian mazes of genetics and grief in a country that would just as soon wipe the whole of indigenous peoples under the rug.
�We are made of stories, and if we don’t know them—the ones that make us—how can we ever be fully realized? How can we ever be who we really are?�
Set around the Penobscot Reservation in Maine, the site of Talty’s own childhood upbringing, and delves deep into the opaqueness of federal laws surrounding reservation requirements and jurisdiction. As he told , the novel was conceived while wrestling with fellow indigenous author ’s own interrogation of Federal Laws as he read her National Book Award winning novel . Talty says:
—a rather controversial measurement put into law by 18th century white colonial settlers to determine the amount of indigenous blood a person possesses—reduces identity to a percentage in order to restrict who can belong to a tribe or live on a reservation and how that passes along to children. And while Charles makes frequent variations on the refrain of �all blood looks the same,� blood is the dilemma assailing Charles� entire life. Able to live on the reservation as a child due to his step-father, Fredrick, Charles loses his claim to heritage at the moment of Fredrick’s shocking death. Yet now in the present Charles is forced to watch his daughter, Elizabeth, from across the river where she lives in the reservation, her mother having married another man and claiming the child as his in order to secure enough of a claim to blood in order to stay there.
�I wanted her to know who I was—who I really was—instead of a white man who lived across from her all her life and watched her grow up from this side of the river.�
The novel is two-fold. One is Charles� moral conundrum over whether or not he tell Elizabeth the truth against the wishes of her mother. This is less about meeting his daughter, or so he claims, and more about giving her a key to her past.
The other issue is that his mother is quickly losing herself to dementia, and not only is the time running out to tell Elizabeth her history, but also to learn his own as she begins to forget who he is beyond her caregiver. Private history sometimes tumbles out his mother’s mouth, but more frequently it slides off the cliffs of memory and into oblivion. Interestingly enough I have recently just read another novel about a man considering his estranged daughter named Elisabeth (’s ) and a novel about history washed away by the loss of memory (’s The Swimmers). Talty’s combination of the two themes really hit hard and heartbreakingly so as he manages to give each the attention they deserve as a fully realized part of the novel while also functional commentary on one another through their juxtapositions and parallels. There are many, with births and deaths juxtaposed, or dementia and depression paralleled in the shared horrific treatment, and while, admittedly, the constant use of parallels feels a bit contrived at times in order to land a larger emotional blow, the effect is so shattering that it hardly matters.
�There was this history I was a part of. A history my body had experienced and moved though. But I never knew it. It made me wonder how much I didn’t know. We had that much in common, Elizabeth and I, and I felt she should know her body was special and she should know its history. Especially the one it would not tell her and the one it could not see.�
For a novel about indigenous identity, Talty opts for a narrator who is, effectively, outside it. Both in terms of blood and in terms of his exile from the reservation. �To think that the reservation is what makes an Indian an Indian is to massacre all over again the Natives who do not populate it,� Charles offers, extending the harm caused by racist lawmaking and attempts at erasing indigenous identities (another novel from this year, Wandering Star by indigenous author —who provides the cover blurb here—rather effectively addresses these issues and is a great companion read to Fire Exit) not only to non-reservation indigenous peoples but everyone. In her book What White People Can Do Next, author and activist drives home the point that what enshrines harmful and racist laws is the belief that, if you are white, it does not harm you but calls attention to how the harm is spread across class lines and the hard from such laws oozes over everyone. �I just need you to recognize this shit is killing you, too,� she write and here Talty has done an excellent job of crafting a similar vantage point on how Charles, not indigenous, is suffering because these laws. Talty shows how we are all pulled down into the slaughterhouse of these Federal Laws but also does so in a way that doesn’t center whiteness and ensures the Penobscot nation is the focus. In , Talty was asked 'do you feel it’s your responsibility, or purpose, to tell Native stories?' to which Talty responded:
There is a strong cultural heritage throughout the story and Talty nets a lot of nuance in reservation life. The struggles are bountiful for Charles, such as the rampant alcoholism and addictions faced both on and off the reservation. It is a bleak portrayal of life but Talty reminds us that we are all, in some ways, complicit.
�It was Fredrick’s love that made me feel Native. He loved me so much that I was, and still am, convinced that I was from him, part of him, part of what he was part of. That was how I felt about Elizabeth—in truth, she was a descendant only from her mother’s side, and if that were to come out and she were taken off the census, would she feel any less Native? I didn’t think so.�
Talty writes that �we are made of stories� and so much of history is the struggle over the dominant narrative and who tells the story. Frederick made him feel he belonged, and what is Charles denying Elizabeth if he doesn’t tell her the truth. But also is it his place to override the story of her life she has always believed? It is an issue he will go back and forth on—Charles can be a frustrating character as he is so much blown about by the wind and while we are empathetic due to the lifetime of damages that have made him this way, it is still painful to watch—but the metaphor extends beyond the personal. The country itself is competing stories, such was the way colonialism took root, and these are the stories of those who have been brought down into generational poverty and addictions with little way out. Early on there is a rather chilling metaphor when Charles thinks about the various stories he has heard about the reservation being built over a graveyard. Regardless of which story is true, the fact remains there is death beneath their feet and we will all add our bones to the pile some day. The only story that is fixed.
�I wanted to say it all: wanted to give her all the history that is hers. This past. This family. I wanted her to know, wanted her to understand what it meant that she was being stretched beyond the walls of her parents' house,�
A big thank you to Isabel’s lovely review which inspired me to read this. Fire Exit is a haunting and harrowing tale, and Morgan Talty expertly pulls at all the heartstrings. On the large scale it is a cutting look at the legacy of trauma and hardship caused by harmful Federal Laws around indigenous identity, yet it also functions as a tragic personal tale of a family caught in these machinations. We are all stories of our history and such histories are subject to the fallibility of memory but with Fire Exit, Talty asks of us to ensure we do not let such history be washed away.
4/5
�all that remained was the charred, burnt wood of the story that is hers.�
�We are made of stories, and if we don’t know them—the ones that make us—how can we ever be fully realized? How can we ever be who we really are?�
Set around the Penobscot Reservation in Maine, the site of Talty’s own childhood upbringing, and delves deep into the opaqueness of federal laws surrounding reservation requirements and jurisdiction. As he told , the novel was conceived while wrestling with fellow indigenous author ’s own interrogation of Federal Laws as he read her National Book Award winning novel . Talty says:
�Federal Indian Law makes no sense. None. And so in reading her novel—in seeing how Erdrich looked at the law—I wondered, what is a situation that could arise out of the nonsensical structure holding up Indian Country? Blood quantum jumped into my head and that was the genesis.�
—a rather controversial measurement put into law by 18th century white colonial settlers to determine the amount of indigenous blood a person possesses—reduces identity to a percentage in order to restrict who can belong to a tribe or live on a reservation and how that passes along to children. And while Charles makes frequent variations on the refrain of �all blood looks the same,� blood is the dilemma assailing Charles� entire life. Able to live on the reservation as a child due to his step-father, Fredrick, Charles loses his claim to heritage at the moment of Fredrick’s shocking death. Yet now in the present Charles is forced to watch his daughter, Elizabeth, from across the river where she lives in the reservation, her mother having married another man and claiming the child as his in order to secure enough of a claim to blood in order to stay there.
�I wanted her to know who I was—who I really was—instead of a white man who lived across from her all her life and watched her grow up from this side of the river.�
The novel is two-fold. One is Charles� moral conundrum over whether or not he tell Elizabeth the truth against the wishes of her mother. This is less about meeting his daughter, or so he claims, and more about giving her a key to her past.
�All I wanted was that she know the history that was hers, that this history wasn’t lost or wasted because of the illusion we’d tried to live in so neatly, that there was a life she could have lived and been a part of, and that she know she was as much a part of me as she was not.�
The other issue is that his mother is quickly losing herself to dementia, and not only is the time running out to tell Elizabeth her history, but also to learn his own as she begins to forget who he is beyond her caregiver. Private history sometimes tumbles out his mother’s mouth, but more frequently it slides off the cliffs of memory and into oblivion. Interestingly enough I have recently just read another novel about a man considering his estranged daughter named Elisabeth (’s ) and a novel about history washed away by the loss of memory (’s The Swimmers). Talty’s combination of the two themes really hit hard and heartbreakingly so as he manages to give each the attention they deserve as a fully realized part of the novel while also functional commentary on one another through their juxtapositions and parallels. There are many, with births and deaths juxtaposed, or dementia and depression paralleled in the shared horrific treatment, and while, admittedly, the constant use of parallels feels a bit contrived at times in order to land a larger emotional blow, the effect is so shattering that it hardly matters.
�There was this history I was a part of. A history my body had experienced and moved though. But I never knew it. It made me wonder how much I didn’t know. We had that much in common, Elizabeth and I, and I felt she should know her body was special and she should know its history. Especially the one it would not tell her and the one it could not see.�
For a novel about indigenous identity, Talty opts for a narrator who is, effectively, outside it. Both in terms of blood and in terms of his exile from the reservation. �To think that the reservation is what makes an Indian an Indian is to massacre all over again the Natives who do not populate it,� Charles offers, extending the harm caused by racist lawmaking and attempts at erasing indigenous identities (another novel from this year, Wandering Star by indigenous author —who provides the cover blurb here—rather effectively addresses these issues and is a great companion read to Fire Exit) not only to non-reservation indigenous peoples but everyone. In her book What White People Can Do Next, author and activist drives home the point that what enshrines harmful and racist laws is the belief that, if you are white, it does not harm you but calls attention to how the harm is spread across class lines and the hard from such laws oozes over everyone. �I just need you to recognize this shit is killing you, too,� she write and here Talty has done an excellent job of crafting a similar vantage point on how Charles, not indigenous, is suffering because these laws. Talty shows how we are all pulled down into the slaughterhouse of these Federal Laws but also does so in a way that doesn’t center whiteness and ensures the Penobscot nation is the focus. In , Talty was asked 'do you feel it’s your responsibility, or purpose, to tell Native stories?' to which Talty responded:
'On one hand, I feel like it’s not my responsibility—I will write and have written stories that do not have Native characters in them—but on the other hand, colonialism and a dominant white readership has made it my responsibility. But then again, maybe it’s not about responsibility in terms of storytelling but rather a responsibility to be a story-keeper, a person who holds onto the stories and passes them down.'
There is a strong cultural heritage throughout the story and Talty nets a lot of nuance in reservation life. The struggles are bountiful for Charles, such as the rampant alcoholism and addictions faced both on and off the reservation. It is a bleak portrayal of life but Talty reminds us that we are all, in some ways, complicit.
�It was Fredrick’s love that made me feel Native. He loved me so much that I was, and still am, convinced that I was from him, part of him, part of what he was part of. That was how I felt about Elizabeth—in truth, she was a descendant only from her mother’s side, and if that were to come out and she were taken off the census, would she feel any less Native? I didn’t think so.�
Talty writes that �we are made of stories� and so much of history is the struggle over the dominant narrative and who tells the story. Frederick made him feel he belonged, and what is Charles denying Elizabeth if he doesn’t tell her the truth. But also is it his place to override the story of her life she has always believed? It is an issue he will go back and forth on—Charles can be a frustrating character as he is so much blown about by the wind and while we are empathetic due to the lifetime of damages that have made him this way, it is still painful to watch—but the metaphor extends beyond the personal. The country itself is competing stories, such was the way colonialism took root, and these are the stories of those who have been brought down into generational poverty and addictions with little way out. Early on there is a rather chilling metaphor when Charles thinks about the various stories he has heard about the reservation being built over a graveyard. Regardless of which story is true, the fact remains there is death beneath their feet and we will all add our bones to the pile some day. The only story that is fixed.
�I wanted to say it all: wanted to give her all the history that is hers. This past. This family. I wanted her to know, wanted her to understand what it meant that she was being stretched beyond the walls of her parents' house,�
A big thank you to Isabel’s lovely review which inspired me to read this. Fire Exit is a haunting and harrowing tale, and Morgan Talty expertly pulls at all the heartstrings. On the large scale it is a cutting look at the legacy of trauma and hardship caused by harmful Federal Laws around indigenous identity, yet it also functions as a tragic personal tale of a family caught in these machinations. We are all stories of our history and such histories are subject to the fallibility of memory but with Fire Exit, Talty asks of us to ensure we do not let such history be washed away.
4/5
�all that remained was the charred, burnt wood of the story that is hers.�
July 25, 2024
i love blurbs. now i get to read a book because an author i like told me to!
anyway.
for most of this book, you're kind of like "i wonder what's happening here." it's sort of ambling along, following a small group of characters. you've been dropped right in the middle of someone's life, and the narrator is not doing any more to explain where you are or why than someone's internal monologue would happen to touch on. for the first 200 pages, you'll just be like, "this is kind of weird." not bad, not good, not memorable, just weird.
then for the last few dozen you will feel such a range of emotions you might catch yourself crying without noticing.
bottom line: a very strange reading experience. i recommend it.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
anyway.
for most of this book, you're kind of like "i wonder what's happening here." it's sort of ambling along, following a small group of characters. you've been dropped right in the middle of someone's life, and the narrator is not doing any more to explain where you are or why than someone's internal monologue would happen to touch on. for the first 200 pages, you'll just be like, "this is kind of weird." not bad, not good, not memorable, just weird.
then for the last few dozen you will feel such a range of emotions you might catch yourself crying without noticing.
bottom line: a very strange reading experience. i recommend it.
(thanks to the publisher for the e-arc)
May 28, 2024
As an everyday person, putting my untrained book thoughts out onto this site for no one in particular is a fun pastime to my daily life. That is until I find a 5⭐️ book that is just so good in a way I don’t know how to put into words, then I wish this was my job, and I was trained, instead of overusing commas and thinking “ugh YES, the writing maybe, or the characters, well, my feelings, THEIR feelings, just YES�.
Anyway, Morgan Talty brings remarkable life and reality to an otherwise somber and depressing story. In “Fire Exit�, Charles Lamosway has spent over two decades secretly watching his daughter Elizabeth grow up from across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. Burdened by a sick mother, an alcoholic best friend, and his own troubled past, he grapples with the decision to keep the truth of his relationship with his daughter a secret, until she suddenly goes missing.
Talty’s prose feels like stepping in Charles� shoes and truly empathizing with his life. I felt so frustrated for him every time he found himself between a rock and a hard place because of someone else’s misgivings, lack of care, or ill-will. But I was also frustrated with Charles whenever he seemed to just let life slap him around. Ultimately, I just needed to accept the characters as they were and let the story flow. For me, what stood out the most is that this novel is a wonderful, powerful, and heartbreaking depiction of taking care of a parent with dementia. As Charles navigates his decisions involving his daughter, he takes care of a mother who often does not know who he is and increasingly refuses help. It reminded me of the high praise Anthony Hopkins received for his role in "The Father" (2020), where he played a man with dementia coming to terms with his changing circumstances. Both are done so well that you hope to never relate to the experience, but are grateful for the honest representation.
A brilliant debut novel, excellently narrated by Darrell Dennis. Once published (June 4), I think I will have to add the physical copy to my library. I very much look forward to reading more from Morgan Talty.
Thanks to Netgalley, RB Media, Morgan Talty, and Darrell Dennis for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
Anyway, Morgan Talty brings remarkable life and reality to an otherwise somber and depressing story. In “Fire Exit�, Charles Lamosway has spent over two decades secretly watching his daughter Elizabeth grow up from across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. Burdened by a sick mother, an alcoholic best friend, and his own troubled past, he grapples with the decision to keep the truth of his relationship with his daughter a secret, until she suddenly goes missing.
Talty’s prose feels like stepping in Charles� shoes and truly empathizing with his life. I felt so frustrated for him every time he found himself between a rock and a hard place because of someone else’s misgivings, lack of care, or ill-will. But I was also frustrated with Charles whenever he seemed to just let life slap him around. Ultimately, I just needed to accept the characters as they were and let the story flow. For me, what stood out the most is that this novel is a wonderful, powerful, and heartbreaking depiction of taking care of a parent with dementia. As Charles navigates his decisions involving his daughter, he takes care of a mother who often does not know who he is and increasingly refuses help. It reminded me of the high praise Anthony Hopkins received for his role in "The Father" (2020), where he played a man with dementia coming to terms with his changing circumstances. Both are done so well that you hope to never relate to the experience, but are grateful for the honest representation.
A brilliant debut novel, excellently narrated by Darrell Dennis. Once published (June 4), I think I will have to add the physical copy to my library. I very much look forward to reading more from Morgan Talty.
Thanks to Netgalley, RB Media, Morgan Talty, and Darrell Dennis for the advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
March 4, 2025
**4.5-stars rounded up**
Fire Exit is a realistic Literary Fiction novel that falls completely outside of my comfort zone. I picked this one up because of one reason, and one reason only: Morgan Talty.
I've read short-fiction from him and loved it. Additionally, he's an Assistant Professor at my alma mater, University of Maine, Orono. His stories take place around that area, so there's also that connection.
This book is about life. More specifically, it's about Charles Lamosway's life. The story-telling feels very Coming of Age. Although this isn't that type of story, Charles takes us through certain portions of his life in a way that makes it feel like that subgenre.
There's a lot going on in his life, which he focuses on in his narration. First and foremost, is the fact that he has a daughter, Elizabeth, the result of an affair, who doesn't know the true nature of her parentage.
For years, this has weighed on him. He's watched Elizabeth grow up, as she lives just across the river from him.
As she comes of age, and his life transitions into its later stages, he starts to feel compelled to share the truth with her. He feels she has the right to know. She has the right to know her true history, who she is and where she came from.
He's not trying to negate all her parents have done for her, he doesn't want anything from her really, but Elizabeth's mother, Mary, doesn't see it the same way as Charles.
Then there's his relationship with his mom, Louise. That's complicated too. He loves his mother. He's dedicated to her, but it's not always easy.
Louise has struggled with depression for many, many years. Charles and Louise have also experienced a terrible trauma together, which they never discuss. He has unresolved guilt from that event that continues to haunt him.
Louise is now succumbing to dementia and she's more reliant on Charles than ever. She's not always kind, and rarely recognizes him, yet he is 100%-committed to her care. It's a situation he wasn't prepared for.
The whole journey he's on with his mom has caused him to confront a lot of issues from his life. Such as distant moments of his childhood, his relationship with his Mom and step-Dad, Frederick, and of course, his nonexistent relationship with his daughter, Elizabeth.
I thought everything about this was beautifully-done. I loved the writing. I loved the delivery of Charles's voice and story. I felt like I was sitting with him at a bar in Old Town and he was just relating moments of his life to me.
It amazed me how invested I got in each of the different aspects that Charles was exploring. As mentioned above, this isn't normally a type of story that I would pick up, but I'm so glad that I did. It was emotional, yet so enjoyable.
I would recommend this to all my Literary Fiction friends out there, or Readers who enjoy the quality of storytelling in a Coming of Age narrative. Also, the audiobook is fantastic. I def recommend that format as well.
Thank you to the publisher, Recorded Books, for providing me with a copy to read and review. Morgan Talty is such a talent. I can't wait to read more from him!!
Fire Exit is a realistic Literary Fiction novel that falls completely outside of my comfort zone. I picked this one up because of one reason, and one reason only: Morgan Talty.
I've read short-fiction from him and loved it. Additionally, he's an Assistant Professor at my alma mater, University of Maine, Orono. His stories take place around that area, so there's also that connection.
This book is about life. More specifically, it's about Charles Lamosway's life. The story-telling feels very Coming of Age. Although this isn't that type of story, Charles takes us through certain portions of his life in a way that makes it feel like that subgenre.
There's a lot going on in his life, which he focuses on in his narration. First and foremost, is the fact that he has a daughter, Elizabeth, the result of an affair, who doesn't know the true nature of her parentage.
For years, this has weighed on him. He's watched Elizabeth grow up, as she lives just across the river from him.
As she comes of age, and his life transitions into its later stages, he starts to feel compelled to share the truth with her. He feels she has the right to know. She has the right to know her true history, who she is and where she came from.
He's not trying to negate all her parents have done for her, he doesn't want anything from her really, but Elizabeth's mother, Mary, doesn't see it the same way as Charles.
Then there's his relationship with his mom, Louise. That's complicated too. He loves his mother. He's dedicated to her, but it's not always easy.
Louise has struggled with depression for many, many years. Charles and Louise have also experienced a terrible trauma together, which they never discuss. He has unresolved guilt from that event that continues to haunt him.
Louise is now succumbing to dementia and she's more reliant on Charles than ever. She's not always kind, and rarely recognizes him, yet he is 100%-committed to her care. It's a situation he wasn't prepared for.
The whole journey he's on with his mom has caused him to confront a lot of issues from his life. Such as distant moments of his childhood, his relationship with his Mom and step-Dad, Frederick, and of course, his nonexistent relationship with his daughter, Elizabeth.
I thought everything about this was beautifully-done. I loved the writing. I loved the delivery of Charles's voice and story. I felt like I was sitting with him at a bar in Old Town and he was just relating moments of his life to me.
It amazed me how invested I got in each of the different aspects that Charles was exploring. As mentioned above, this isn't normally a type of story that I would pick up, but I'm so glad that I did. It was emotional, yet so enjoyable.
I would recommend this to all my Literary Fiction friends out there, or Readers who enjoy the quality of storytelling in a Coming of Age narrative. Also, the audiobook is fantastic. I def recommend that format as well.
Thank you to the publisher, Recorded Books, for providing me with a copy to read and review. Morgan Talty is such a talent. I can't wait to read more from him!!
May 30, 2024
Poignant novel that tackles the family bonds, love, and the urge to find one's place in life. All these presented in the past and the present, with the background of Penobscot Reservation, Maine. Charles Lamosway looks back and discusses the choices he made. Relatively short novel, about an ordinary man, it might seem, but Charles's longing for his daughter, the care he took of his mother, and love he had for his stepfather, made his a character I warmed up to and felt for. Captivating and one of the best books I have read this year.
A big thank-you to Morgan Talty, RB Media, and NetGalley for a free audiobook in exchange for my honest review.*
A big thank-you to Morgan Talty, RB Media, and NetGalley for a free audiobook in exchange for my honest review.*
July 23, 2024
From the porch of his home, Charles Lamosway has watched the life he might have had unfold across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation.
Laura (thenerdygnomelife)'s review of this book starts with: "It's hard to put my finger on why "Fire Exit" captivated me so completely � on face value, it seems to be about an ordinary man grappling with somewhat ordinary issues: navigating a relationship with his adult daughter and caring for his ailing mother." It was like Laura reached into my head and stole my thoughts because this is exactly how I felt. I have 3 or 4 books on the go and this was the one I nearly always chose to continue with.
Charles spent his younger years on the reservation living with his mother Louise and step-father Fredrick but, in accordance with the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act, when he turned 18 Charles no longer had any right to live on the reservation. His step-father had purchased land across the river and he and Charles built a house which Fredrick signed over to Charles. When his step-father died his mother (a non-native) chose to move off the reservation.
The story is told by Charles, an alcoholic who's been sober for 22 years, and through him we meet some great characters and some not-so-great but interesting all the same. It's a story of life, family and relationships. Highly recommended. Although I'm not usually a fan of short stories, I'd be interested in reading "Night of the Living Rez", a collection of stories by this author.
I had the Kindle version of the book from Netgalley and was also lucky enough to be approved for the audiobook; I enjoyed both versions. Darrell Dennis does an excellent job with the narration, very level and undramatic which suited the story being told.
Many thanks to Penguin Random House Canada for providing access to the electronic version of this book and to RB Media for approving access to the audiobook, both via Netgalley. All opinions expressed are my own.
Publication Date: June 4, 2024
Laura (thenerdygnomelife)'s review of this book starts with: "It's hard to put my finger on why "Fire Exit" captivated me so completely � on face value, it seems to be about an ordinary man grappling with somewhat ordinary issues: navigating a relationship with his adult daughter and caring for his ailing mother." It was like Laura reached into my head and stole my thoughts because this is exactly how I felt. I have 3 or 4 books on the go and this was the one I nearly always chose to continue with.
Charles spent his younger years on the reservation living with his mother Louise and step-father Fredrick but, in accordance with the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act, when he turned 18 Charles no longer had any right to live on the reservation. His step-father had purchased land across the river and he and Charles built a house which Fredrick signed over to Charles. When his step-father died his mother (a non-native) chose to move off the reservation.
The story is told by Charles, an alcoholic who's been sober for 22 years, and through him we meet some great characters and some not-so-great but interesting all the same. It's a story of life, family and relationships. Highly recommended. Although I'm not usually a fan of short stories, I'd be interested in reading "Night of the Living Rez", a collection of stories by this author.
I had the Kindle version of the book from Netgalley and was also lucky enough to be approved for the audiobook; I enjoyed both versions. Darrell Dennis does an excellent job with the narration, very level and undramatic which suited the story being told.
Many thanks to Penguin Random House Canada for providing access to the electronic version of this book and to RB Media for approving access to the audiobook, both via Netgalley. All opinions expressed are my own.
Publication Date: June 4, 2024
February 5, 2025
Sincere, humane, carefully wrought and sometimes I felt these aspects about the novel working against it in my mind, but I just told my mind to shut up about it and to believe in these people. As a former Mainer I had no trouble at all believing in the place this story is set in, the way full days can be defined solely on when the plow will get there, and if the emotional climaxes sometimes felt exaggerated, well, it’s also true that sometimes things like this happen to people.
So I let go.
So I let go.
May 6, 2024
Fire Exit is a powerful, poignant, and multilayered story that had me utterly captivated. The story alternates between two timelines and examines two cultures. The complex characters in the story had so much depth that by the end of the book, I felt that I knew them all personally. It’s been a week since I finished Fire Exit and I find myself still thinking about the story and its characters.
Fire Exit is truly a remarkable story and I enjoyed it so much that I had to put it on my list of top reads of 2024. This is my third read by Talty (previously read Night of the Living Rez and his short story in Never Whistle at Night), and Fire Exit solidified him as one of my favorite authors.
Fire Exit by Morgan Talty will be available on June 4. A massive thanks to Tin House Books and NetGalley for the gifted copy!
Fire Exit is truly a remarkable story and I enjoyed it so much that I had to put it on my list of top reads of 2024. This is my third read by Talty (previously read Night of the Living Rez and his short story in Never Whistle at Night), and Fire Exit solidified him as one of my favorite authors.
Fire Exit by Morgan Talty will be available on June 4. A massive thanks to Tin House Books and NetGalley for the gifted copy!
January 27, 2025
Longlisted for the
Real Rating: 4.75* of five
The Publisher Says: From the porch of his home, Charles Lamosway has watched the life he might have had unfold across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. On the far bank, he caught brief moments of his neighbor Elizabeth’s life—from the day she came home from the hospital to her early twenties. But there’s always been something deeper and more dangerous than the river that divides him from her and the rest of the tribal community. It’s the secret that Elizabeth is his daughter, a secret Charles is no longer willing to keep.
Now, it’s been weeks since he’s seen Elizabeth, and Charles is worried. As he attempts to hold on to and care for what he can—his home and property; his alcoholic, quick-tempered, and bighearted friend Bobby; and his mother, Louise, who is slipping ever deeper into dementia—he becomes increasingly haunted by his past. Forced to confront a lost childhood on the reservation, a love affair cut short, and the death of his beloved stepfather, Fredrick, in a hunting accident—a death he and Louise are at odds over as to where to lay blame—Charles contends with questions he’s long been afraid to ask. Is his secret about Elizabeth his to share? And would his daughter want to know the truth, even if it could cost her everything she’s ever known?
From the award-winning author of Night of the Living Rez, Morgan Talty’s debut novel, Fire Exit, is a masterful and unforgettable story of family, legacy, bloodlines, culture and inheritance, and what, if anything, we owe one another.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: Twice in the course of this read I stopped to think carefully about the truth, encapsulated in the truism "every tool is a weapon," that the greatest evils come from the least expected places. Honesty, or simple vanity, or (as reality is next to never binary) somewhere on the spectrum defined by those endpoints, in claiming a daughter Charles has always known he fathered though he was never allowed to parent her thanks to the blood quantum laws (weapons of oppression formed into tools of exclusion by the Penobscots themselves) would ruin her life as it is. Does she still have that life? Why hasn't Charles, her immediate neighbor all her life, seen her at all in weeks? Has she moved away, run away or vanished under more sinister circumstances? He has no standing to ask any of these questions, an off-reservation neighbor in the eyes of the law. "To think that the reservation is what makes an Indian an Indian is to massacre all over again the Natives who do not populate it," thinks Charles.
Elizabeth's mother chose to have his child, who was conceived while Charles was able to live on the reservation thanks to his mother's marriage to a Penobscot man, Charles's alcoholic best reservation-dwelling buddy Bobby, by pretending she was his child...a Penobscot father. Charles's acknowledged paternity would have denied Elizabeth a place on reservation, thus her ancestral identity and such benefits as are available to Native Americans who pass the blood quantum tests. Adding injury to this insult, Charles's dearly loved Penobscot stepfather dies...hunting accident? darker tragedy?...so he must leave the reservation for good. A tool, a gift of identity and grudging economic benefit for Elizabeth, becomes a weapon to deprive Charles of a life he wanted. Charles identifies the weaponization of the tool of identity, of belonging: "It was {dead stepfather} Fredrick’s love that made me feel Native. He loved me so much that I was, and still am, convinced that I was from him, part of him, part of what he was part of. That was how I felt about Elizabeth—in truth, she was a descendant only from her mother’s side, and if that were to come out and she were taken off the census, would she feel any less Native? I didn’t think so."
Charles now wants his daughter found, and to tell her at last who her family truly includes. Armistead Maupin, a true treasure of a writer, activist, and thinker, titled his memoir of coming out after coming of age as a true Southern right-wing boy Logical Family. The journey, the destination, the idea of clipping "bio" from "family," all form part of Charles's heterosexual journey. He is more proof that the reality of love forming family not family necessarily forming love, is more than ever a bulwark against increasingly harsh reality. "I wanted to say it all: wanted to give her all the history that is hers. This past. This family. I wanted her to know, wanted her to understand what it meant that she was being stretched beyond the walls of her parents' house," her family of origin was not all there was to her...or his...world. As the story unfolds Charles grapples with claiming the bio- and logical family as his mother descends into dementia thus dying to him before her body finally dies. All of these are issues I've faced; I was totally engrossed, enmeshed in this multipart logical family struggling to be formed.
Charles spends the entire book obsessing over Elizabeth and his denied paternity, over the ethics of telling her this potentially tribal-membership ending reality...and it suddenly hit me almost three-quarters if the way through: Elizabeth is in her middle twenties! I'd simply never done the math. It changed everything to know this.
Telling an adult who can decide for herself what to do with the life-changing factual information is a duty. It's not optional. Her life is built on a lie, and that is unconscionable to continue to hide from a twentysomething. She's got the life experience to decide for herself if she wants to continue to lie to the authorities. How to handle the fallout, if she tells the truth. She's not a kid...and I also realized that Charles'a obsessive worry about why she's vanished is completely misplaced, even a little creepy.
Charles switched from being "poor old Charles" to being "pick your balls up, put 'em back on, and take action for once" Charles. At almost the same narrative moment, a major plot point resolves. I was left wondering what to think about this altered idea of and opinion about the character I'd invested in so deeply.
That is a very, very good reminder to check the facile, shallow interpretations at Author Talty's doorstep...his short fiction should've taught me that! There is no surface without structure around here. I can't quite finish that fifth star because I found some of Charles's passive acceptance and supine acquiescence unpleasant, if relatable throughout, but the awareness misdirection was truly *chef's kiss*
If you haven't read Night of the Living Rez, his story collection, by all means do. Starting here, or starting as I did with the stories, your decision to make Morgan Talty part of your reading ubiverse is one you aren't likely to regret.
(Where the HELL is my 2022 review of the stories?! Panic stations until I find it!)
Real Rating: 4.75* of five
The Publisher Says: From the porch of his home, Charles Lamosway has watched the life he might have had unfold across the river on Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. On the far bank, he caught brief moments of his neighbor Elizabeth’s life—from the day she came home from the hospital to her early twenties. But there’s always been something deeper and more dangerous than the river that divides him from her and the rest of the tribal community. It’s the secret that Elizabeth is his daughter, a secret Charles is no longer willing to keep.
Now, it’s been weeks since he’s seen Elizabeth, and Charles is worried. As he attempts to hold on to and care for what he can—his home and property; his alcoholic, quick-tempered, and bighearted friend Bobby; and his mother, Louise, who is slipping ever deeper into dementia—he becomes increasingly haunted by his past. Forced to confront a lost childhood on the reservation, a love affair cut short, and the death of his beloved stepfather, Fredrick, in a hunting accident—a death he and Louise are at odds over as to where to lay blame—Charles contends with questions he’s long been afraid to ask. Is his secret about Elizabeth his to share? And would his daughter want to know the truth, even if it could cost her everything she’s ever known?
From the award-winning author of Night of the Living Rez, Morgan Talty’s debut novel, Fire Exit, is a masterful and unforgettable story of family, legacy, bloodlines, culture and inheritance, and what, if anything, we owe one another.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: Twice in the course of this read I stopped to think carefully about the truth, encapsulated in the truism "every tool is a weapon," that the greatest evils come from the least expected places. Honesty, or simple vanity, or (as reality is next to never binary) somewhere on the spectrum defined by those endpoints, in claiming a daughter Charles has always known he fathered though he was never allowed to parent her thanks to the blood quantum laws (weapons of oppression formed into tools of exclusion by the Penobscots themselves) would ruin her life as it is. Does she still have that life? Why hasn't Charles, her immediate neighbor all her life, seen her at all in weeks? Has she moved away, run away or vanished under more sinister circumstances? He has no standing to ask any of these questions, an off-reservation neighbor in the eyes of the law. "To think that the reservation is what makes an Indian an Indian is to massacre all over again the Natives who do not populate it," thinks Charles.
Elizabeth's mother chose to have his child, who was conceived while Charles was able to live on the reservation thanks to his mother's marriage to a Penobscot man, Charles's alcoholic best reservation-dwelling buddy Bobby, by pretending she was his child...a Penobscot father. Charles's acknowledged paternity would have denied Elizabeth a place on reservation, thus her ancestral identity and such benefits as are available to Native Americans who pass the blood quantum tests. Adding injury to this insult, Charles's dearly loved Penobscot stepfather dies...hunting accident? darker tragedy?...so he must leave the reservation for good. A tool, a gift of identity and grudging economic benefit for Elizabeth, becomes a weapon to deprive Charles of a life he wanted. Charles identifies the weaponization of the tool of identity, of belonging: "It was {dead stepfather} Fredrick’s love that made me feel Native. He loved me so much that I was, and still am, convinced that I was from him, part of him, part of what he was part of. That was how I felt about Elizabeth—in truth, she was a descendant only from her mother’s side, and if that were to come out and she were taken off the census, would she feel any less Native? I didn’t think so."
Charles now wants his daughter found, and to tell her at last who her family truly includes. Armistead Maupin, a true treasure of a writer, activist, and thinker, titled his memoir of coming out after coming of age as a true Southern right-wing boy Logical Family. The journey, the destination, the idea of clipping "bio" from "family," all form part of Charles's heterosexual journey. He is more proof that the reality of love forming family not family necessarily forming love, is more than ever a bulwark against increasingly harsh reality. "I wanted to say it all: wanted to give her all the history that is hers. This past. This family. I wanted her to know, wanted her to understand what it meant that she was being stretched beyond the walls of her parents' house," her family of origin was not all there was to her...or his...world. As the story unfolds Charles grapples with claiming the bio- and logical family as his mother descends into dementia thus dying to him before her body finally dies. All of these are issues I've faced; I was totally engrossed, enmeshed in this multipart logical family struggling to be formed.
Charles spends the entire book obsessing over Elizabeth and his denied paternity, over the ethics of telling her this potentially tribal-membership ending reality...and it suddenly hit me almost three-quarters if the way through: Elizabeth is in her middle twenties! I'd simply never done the math. It changed everything to know this.
Telling an adult who can decide for herself what to do with the life-changing factual information is a duty. It's not optional. Her life is built on a lie, and that is unconscionable to continue to hide from a twentysomething. She's got the life experience to decide for herself if she wants to continue to lie to the authorities. How to handle the fallout, if she tells the truth. She's not a kid...and I also realized that Charles'a obsessive worry about why she's vanished is completely misplaced, even a little creepy.
Charles switched from being "poor old Charles" to being "pick your balls up, put 'em back on, and take action for once" Charles. At almost the same narrative moment, a major plot point resolves. I was left wondering what to think about this altered idea of and opinion about the character I'd invested in so deeply.
That is a very, very good reminder to check the facile, shallow interpretations at Author Talty's doorstep...his short fiction should've taught me that! There is no surface without structure around here. I can't quite finish that fifth star because I found some of Charles's passive acceptance and supine acquiescence unpleasant, if relatable throughout, but the awareness misdirection was truly *chef's kiss*
If you haven't read Night of the Living Rez, his story collection, by all means do. Starting here, or starting as I did with the stories, your decision to make Morgan Talty part of your reading ubiverse is one you aren't likely to regret.
(Where the HELL is my 2022 review of the stories?! Panic stations until I find it!)
January 16, 2025
Blood Quantum Questioning
Morgan Talty is Native, and in Fire Exit, his debut novel, he focuses a critical eye on the concept of Blood Quantum. Maybe I'm slow, but it wasn't until I finished the book that I realized that's what this is. I think I had been distracted with thoughts like, "why did Talty choose to write from the point of view about a white guy if this is a Native story?" and "why are there so many white characters in this Native book?" Because the point of view character (Charles) is white, and so is his friend Bobby, and so is his mother Louise, all who take a great deal of room in this book.
But... Charles was raised by Fredrick, a Native step-father who he loved, his best friend Gizos is also Native, and, most importantly, he "feels" Native, and was therefore devastated when he was forced to move off the reservation as a young man due to the fact that he has no actual Penobscot blood. It is a huge loss.
Another loss is when his girlfriend Mary, a Native woman, becomes pregnant with his child but chooses to raise the child with a Native man, so that the child can be counted in the census as a full-blood Penobscot.
The book's plot centres around whether Charles, over two decades later, should have a Darth Vader moment with his daughter. Elizabeth, I am your father. Charles is obsessed with telling her, but he hesitates and hesitates and meanwhile we watch him care for his mother who is suffering with dementia, and we also learn of his family's tragic history through a sizeable amount of backstory.
Talty raises the question of whether someone's blood quantum matters at all. Will Elizabeth's life change in a meaningful way if she finds out her father is white? Does Charles' white heritage make a difference if he was raised on the reservation and has a deep love, understanding, and kinship with the Penobscot people?
The answer is complicated. I don't think Talty presents us with an answer. His main character represents both sides of the same coin. On one side, he's a white guy who gets kicked off the reservation and loses his daughter because he has no Native blood. (It shouldn't matter!) On the other, he's determined to tell his daughter where she comes from. (It matters more than anything!)
The final notes of the novel were less organic, a bit too tidy for me, leaning towards sentimentality. I think I would have liked a bit more nuance, or metaphorical register. But overall, I did enjoy reading this story - mainly due to the simple grace of the narrative voice.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
Morgan Talty is Native, and in Fire Exit, his debut novel, he focuses a critical eye on the concept of Blood Quantum. Maybe I'm slow, but it wasn't until I finished the book that I realized that's what this is. I think I had been distracted with thoughts like, "why did Talty choose to write from the point of view about a white guy if this is a Native story?" and "why are there so many white characters in this Native book?" Because the point of view character (Charles) is white, and so is his friend Bobby, and so is his mother Louise, all who take a great deal of room in this book.
But... Charles was raised by Fredrick, a Native step-father who he loved, his best friend Gizos is also Native, and, most importantly, he "feels" Native, and was therefore devastated when he was forced to move off the reservation as a young man due to the fact that he has no actual Penobscot blood. It is a huge loss.
Another loss is when his girlfriend Mary, a Native woman, becomes pregnant with his child but chooses to raise the child with a Native man, so that the child can be counted in the census as a full-blood Penobscot.
The book's plot centres around whether Charles, over two decades later, should have a Darth Vader moment with his daughter. Elizabeth, I am your father. Charles is obsessed with telling her, but he hesitates and hesitates and meanwhile we watch him care for his mother who is suffering with dementia, and we also learn of his family's tragic history through a sizeable amount of backstory.
Talty raises the question of whether someone's blood quantum matters at all. Will Elizabeth's life change in a meaningful way if she finds out her father is white? Does Charles' white heritage make a difference if he was raised on the reservation and has a deep love, understanding, and kinship with the Penobscot people?
The answer is complicated. I don't think Talty presents us with an answer. His main character represents both sides of the same coin. On one side, he's a white guy who gets kicked off the reservation and loses his daughter because he has no Native blood. (It shouldn't matter!) On the other, he's determined to tell his daughter where she comes from. (It matters more than anything!)
The final notes of the novel were less organic, a bit too tidy for me, leaning towards sentimentality. I think I would have liked a bit more nuance, or metaphorical register. But overall, I did enjoy reading this story - mainly due to the simple grace of the narrative voice.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
March 3, 2025
Really good@
December 8, 2024
Growing up on an Indigenous reservation in Maine, Elizabeth thinks the man raising her is her biological father. She has no idea that her real biological dad is Charles, the white man who lives within view of her home across the river. But Charles knows about her, and he hasn’t gone a single day without thinking of her since she was born. He’s watched her from afar but he’s stayed out of her life due to her mother’s wishes, even though it breaks his heart. But when his observations lead him to sense that something has gone deeply wrong in Elizabeth’s life, he’s conflicted about whether to reach out and tell her the truth. What’s the best way to care for someone who doesn’t know you exist?
This book was beautiful and heartbreaking and I was absolutely riveted. The characters felt so real and their motivations were easily understandable even when they made the wrong choices. It’s one of those books that gives you the transcendent sense that we’re all just fumbling through life together, doing our best. I read the author’s short story collection a while back and wasn’t blown away by it, so I’m so glad I decided to give this one a chance. Morgan Talty absolutely hit it out of the park with this novel.
This book was beautiful and heartbreaking and I was absolutely riveted. The characters felt so real and their motivations were easily understandable even when they made the wrong choices. It’s one of those books that gives you the transcendent sense that we’re all just fumbling through life together, doing our best. I read the author’s short story collection a while back and wasn’t blown away by it, so I’m so glad I decided to give this one a chance. Morgan Talty absolutely hit it out of the park with this novel.
May 27, 2024
Once again, Talty doesn't disappoint.
For some reason I often had the feeling like there was a second POV to Charles' POV, like he was split in more than a singular identity, as if split between his child self and his adult self he has yet to fully grow into? It felt both confusing and masterful.
His child aspect comes across as disillusioned and numb, afraid to hope or to reach for the better life he longs for, prisoner of his own immaturity and fear of letting go of what little he has, it can come across as generally unfeeling. His more adult aspect rebels against the unfairness of going unacknowledged. It's a strange portrait that you really have to sit with to appreciate.
As you would imagine with the last paragraph, it's not a book where there is much of a plot or action, it's really a character study and a reflection on grief, love, culture, and family in their many forms.
The narrator was pretty good, his narration was generally smooth and his voice acting was pretty minimalist which I personally really appreciated.
This review is for the audiobook version narrated by Darrell Dennis, of which I received an ALC from RB Media | Recorded Books through Netgalley, many thanks to both.
For some reason I often had the feeling like there was a second POV to Charles' POV, like he was split in more than a singular identity, as if split between his child self and his adult self he has yet to fully grow into? It felt both confusing and masterful.
His child aspect comes across as disillusioned and numb, afraid to hope or to reach for the better life he longs for, prisoner of his own immaturity and fear of letting go of what little he has, it can come across as generally unfeeling. His more adult aspect rebels against the unfairness of going unacknowledged. It's a strange portrait that you really have to sit with to appreciate.
As you would imagine with the last paragraph, it's not a book where there is much of a plot or action, it's really a character study and a reflection on grief, love, culture, and family in their many forms.
The narrator was pretty good, his narration was generally smooth and his voice acting was pretty minimalist which I personally really appreciated.
This review is for the audiobook version narrated by Darrell Dennis, of which I received an ALC from RB Media | Recorded Books through Netgalley, many thanks to both.
November 30, 2023
Morgan Talty’s writing sleight of hand is astonishing� and I hope we have many, many more novels from him to figure out how he pulls off the powerful duality of his storytelling. In Fire Exit, the writing is economical, but the world you’re drawn into is vivid and holds like a vice grip. The circumstances are harsh, but the tenderness radiates off the page. The heartbreak is profound, but the love is everywhere. It is altogether its own kind of beautiful.
June 23, 2024
I raced through this. It was a very easy read, and the story was engaging. I have seen this billed at literary fiction, and though the classification can be a little blurry, I would not place it in that bucket. The prose is simple and direct, it lays out the story clear as a bell. It does not leave the reader with much to think about off the page, which is something I look for in litfic. When Talty does reach for metaphors or deep thoughts "clunky" would be an apt and pretty kind euphemism for how that goes. I thought this read like YA (which is a big minus for me) but the matters at hand, grief, the dissolution of family, alcoholism, grief, mental illness, economic stress, and others set this as a book for adults.
We learn this story through the eyes of Charles, a White man raised on a Penobscot reservation. As a young man he is involved with a Penobscot woman, but when she becomes pregnant she announces that she is leaving and identifying an Indian as the father so her child will be considered a full-blooded enrolled member of the tribe. Charles is devastated and basically spends the rest of his life watching his daughter's life with her make-believe father and the woman he loved (or maybe loves.) There is a related story about Charles' estrangement from his mother (I can't discuss without spoilers) and his reentry into her life when she begins her descent into dementia. There are other side stories I won't go into. So many that you would think it would be hard to follow, but it is not. This is a very decent first novel (Talty also wrote a well-received short story collection, Night of the Living Rez, which I haven't read.) It lacks nuance, and I wish the prose was a bit lovelier but I did enjoy the story of this man who longed for connection but belonged in no world. In response he just did nothing and let life happen to him until he tried to break out of that with unintended and unfortunate results.
We learn this story through the eyes of Charles, a White man raised on a Penobscot reservation. As a young man he is involved with a Penobscot woman, but when she becomes pregnant she announces that she is leaving and identifying an Indian as the father so her child will be considered a full-blooded enrolled member of the tribe. Charles is devastated and basically spends the rest of his life watching his daughter's life with her make-believe father and the woman he loved (or maybe loves.) There is a related story about Charles' estrangement from his mother (I can't discuss without spoilers) and his reentry into her life when she begins her descent into dementia. There are other side stories I won't go into. So many that you would think it would be hard to follow, but it is not. This is a very decent first novel (Talty also wrote a well-received short story collection, Night of the Living Rez, which I haven't read.) It lacks nuance, and I wish the prose was a bit lovelier but I did enjoy the story of this man who longed for connection but belonged in no world. In response he just did nothing and let life happen to him until he tried to break out of that with unintended and unfortunate results.
June 4, 2024
It's hard to put my finger on why "Fire Exit" captivated me so completely —on face value, it seems to be about an ordinary man grappling with somewhat ordinary issues: navigating a relationship with his adult daughter and caring for his ailing mother. Morgan Talty is adept at exploring this average everyday human experience, however, and manages to unearth something profound in the mundane. Though my own human experience is far from that of main character Charles Lamosway, I nonetheless emerge somehow feeling seen.
Charles lives on the banks of a river in the Penobscot Reservation in Maine. Across the water, he can see Elizabeth, a young woman who is wholly unaware that Charles is her biological father. Charles has always wanted to be a part of her life, and is no longer willing to keep the secret from her. While he tries to navigate this moral dilemma, his mother begins to show signs of dementia, and he steps into the role of her caregiver. At its heart, "Fire Exit" is a novel about a man's search for his place in the world, his need for human connection, and the drive for love and belonging. By the end, I was charmed by Charles and warmed by his deep care for others.
The audiobook production was well done and Darrell Dennis did a great job on narration.
Thank you to NetGalley, RB Media, and Morgan Talty for providing a copy of this book for my honest review.
Charles lives on the banks of a river in the Penobscot Reservation in Maine. Across the water, he can see Elizabeth, a young woman who is wholly unaware that Charles is her biological father. Charles has always wanted to be a part of her life, and is no longer willing to keep the secret from her. While he tries to navigate this moral dilemma, his mother begins to show signs of dementia, and he steps into the role of her caregiver. At its heart, "Fire Exit" is a novel about a man's search for his place in the world, his need for human connection, and the drive for love and belonging. By the end, I was charmed by Charles and warmed by his deep care for others.
The audiobook production was well done and Darrell Dennis did a great job on narration.
Thank you to NetGalley, RB Media, and Morgan Talty for providing a copy of this book for my honest review.
June 7, 2024
I thought this book was very dry and sometimes even dull. Only finished it because I had nothing else in my queue.
June 19, 2024
This is definitely an 'it's me, not you' situation, but this novel never grabbed me. I was hoping switching to audio would help with the conversational, flat style but no luck. Were we ever supposed to figure out who he's telling the story to?
For me, this was a themes and character book and I need more than that in my reading. The themes were interesting though! Blood quantum, belonging, being cut off or even not remembered, the idea of legacy. Talty does this cool thing with the way Charles mixes dreams within his story, almost reflecting his mom's dementia and his disconnection to his family.
The ending was a little rushed and I'm not sure why this idea of a big reveal kept being teased, it never came to fruition. While I can logically feel for Charles never knowing his daughter, I never emotionally connected to this loss because there wasn't enough backstory on his and Mary's relationship before she got pregnant.
For me, this was a themes and character book and I need more than that in my reading. The themes were interesting though! Blood quantum, belonging, being cut off or even not remembered, the idea of legacy. Talty does this cool thing with the way Charles mixes dreams within his story, almost reflecting his mom's dementia and his disconnection to his family.
The ending was a little rushed and I'm not sure why this idea of a big reveal kept being teased, it never came to fruition. While I can logically feel for Charles never knowing his daughter, I never emotionally connected to this loss because there wasn't enough backstory on his and Mary's relationship before she got pregnant.
June 24, 2024
I don't generally read debuts of contemporary authors when they first come out. I tend to trust most of my friends and their opinions on things, so I thought I'd give this a go. I'm glad I did.
Talty's novel debut has a wide range of things that appeal to me: deep emotional writing, mostly flawed characters and a story that reminds me of my broken past.
Many of us try to avoid what gives us pain, while some gravitate toward it like a moth to a flame. This flame is addicting, cruel and burns us over and over, yet we seek it out no matter how much it hurts.
Talty's novel debut has a wide range of things that appeal to me: deep emotional writing, mostly flawed characters and a story that reminds me of my broken past.
Many of us try to avoid what gives us pain, while some gravitate toward it like a moth to a flame. This flame is addicting, cruel and burns us over and over, yet we seek it out no matter how much it hurts.
March 27, 2025
I am torn about how to rate this. I'll go 3.5 stars rounded up. RTC
March 26, 2025
A man both alienated from the heritage he grew up in, no longer allowed to live in the reservation, and from his child. This was too fragmentary for me to enjoy the important themes.
One thing is certain, you are who you are, even if you don’t know it.
I find the conversational style of Fire Exit, where as a reader we are assumed to know people mentioned just by their name, without descriptions and characteristics (very similar to Booker Prize winner Prophet Song) at the get go quite hard to get into. The story jumps through years, events are compressed, with fires, expletive arguments, stalking, dumpster diving neighbours, storms and misogynistic drum competitions covered in short chapters. Maybe this is a mirror to the dementia encroaching on the mother of the narrator, but I felt lost quite often as a reader, with emotional confrontations leaving me baffled since I had only vague understanding of the interrelation between characters.
Charles, white but raised by a Penobscot stepfather on a reservation and kicked out at 18 for not having the right “blood quantum�. Which also impacts the progenity Charles sires and impacts her whole life. This is all conveyed in an incredibly indirect way (or maybe I am completely oblivious as an European), making it hard form to understand the plight, the tension and the drama.
Blood doesn’t define family seems one of the key concepts of the novel, which I appreciate given how one dimensional adoption is often described. I think the key problem with the book from my perspective, despite the interesting premise and themes, is that I did not care for any character. Charles is passive and could be seen more as a descriptive vehicle than a fully fledged character.
More thoughts to follow but I found this surprisingly hard work and would have wanted to love it more!
One thing is certain, you are who you are, even if you don’t know it.
I find the conversational style of Fire Exit, where as a reader we are assumed to know people mentioned just by their name, without descriptions and characteristics (very similar to Booker Prize winner Prophet Song) at the get go quite hard to get into. The story jumps through years, events are compressed, with fires, expletive arguments, stalking, dumpster diving neighbours, storms and misogynistic drum competitions covered in short chapters. Maybe this is a mirror to the dementia encroaching on the mother of the narrator, but I felt lost quite often as a reader, with emotional confrontations leaving me baffled since I had only vague understanding of the interrelation between characters.
Charles, white but raised by a Penobscot stepfather on a reservation and kicked out at 18 for not having the right “blood quantum�. Which also impacts the progenity Charles sires and impacts her whole life. This is all conveyed in an incredibly indirect way (or maybe I am completely oblivious as an European), making it hard form to understand the plight, the tension and the drama.
Blood doesn’t define family seems one of the key concepts of the novel, which I appreciate given how one dimensional adoption is often described. I think the key problem with the book from my perspective, despite the interesting premise and themes, is that I did not care for any character. Charles is passive and could be seen more as a descriptive vehicle than a fully fledged character.
More thoughts to follow but I found this surprisingly hard work and would have wanted to love it more!
February 4, 2025
One thing I like about And Other Stories� new design is that you can read the first line right there on the cover, and we all know how key a first line is in fiction. For Fire Exit, it’s this:
I wanted the girl to know the truth. I wanted her to know who I was—who I really was—instead of a white man who had lived across from her all her life and watched her grow up on the other side of the river.
This is straight to the heart of the novel, and straight to the heart of what’s best about the novel: a dilemma of classically tragic dimensions. The narrator is a white man who grew up on a reservation with his stepfather; but he has no native blood and was required to leave at 18. The girl across the river is his daughter—but if that were known, she wouldn’t have enough native blood either (according to the Blood Quantum by which the Tribe decides who qualifies for membership), and she would be cast out in turn.
It’s a fascinating story based on the specifics of Native ancestry in North America, where a certain amount of Native blood is required (in contrast to policies towards Black Americans where a single drop was enough to denote Blackness). Choosing to frame this as a story in which a fairly hapless white man is the victim (the victim of the victim perhaps, as Native tribes struggle to define themselves, or what remains of themselves, after generations of erasure) is also a fascinating choice. I couldn’t have enjoyed the concept or the framing more; it’s the kind of story that leaves a lump in your throat before anything has even happened.
And the idea of blood is taken and played with throughout the book. The idea that all blood, spilled, looks the same, and indeed is the same, the differences being in the interpretation of it. The idea of inheritance as something desirable, but also something not (when it’s severe depression being passed down). The absurdity of any bureaucratic definition of belonging (two Native men from different tribes adopt a son, who is mixed-Native from two different tribes—which tribe should he belong to?).
Beyond its classical dilemma, it’s a story about belonging more broadly, and occasionally I got impatient here. I didn’t care much for the main subplot involving the protagonist’s mother. And I found the resolution a little� dare I say it, sappy. Which is a pity for a classic tragedy. But nonetheless, this was a rewarding read.
I wanted the girl to know the truth. I wanted her to know who I was—who I really was—instead of a white man who had lived across from her all her life and watched her grow up on the other side of the river.
This is straight to the heart of the novel, and straight to the heart of what’s best about the novel: a dilemma of classically tragic dimensions. The narrator is a white man who grew up on a reservation with his stepfather; but he has no native blood and was required to leave at 18. The girl across the river is his daughter—but if that were known, she wouldn’t have enough native blood either (according to the Blood Quantum by which the Tribe decides who qualifies for membership), and she would be cast out in turn.
It’s a fascinating story based on the specifics of Native ancestry in North America, where a certain amount of Native blood is required (in contrast to policies towards Black Americans where a single drop was enough to denote Blackness). Choosing to frame this as a story in which a fairly hapless white man is the victim (the victim of the victim perhaps, as Native tribes struggle to define themselves, or what remains of themselves, after generations of erasure) is also a fascinating choice. I couldn’t have enjoyed the concept or the framing more; it’s the kind of story that leaves a lump in your throat before anything has even happened.
And the idea of blood is taken and played with throughout the book. The idea that all blood, spilled, looks the same, and indeed is the same, the differences being in the interpretation of it. The idea of inheritance as something desirable, but also something not (when it’s severe depression being passed down). The absurdity of any bureaucratic definition of belonging (two Native men from different tribes adopt a son, who is mixed-Native from two different tribes—which tribe should he belong to?).
Beyond its classical dilemma, it’s a story about belonging more broadly, and occasionally I got impatient here. I didn’t care much for the main subplot involving the protagonist’s mother. And I found the resolution a little� dare I say it, sappy. Which is a pity for a classic tragedy. But nonetheless, this was a rewarding read.
November 27, 2024
This book has an intriguing premise, taking aim at —basically the way the U.S. government and, more recently, native tribes, use “amount of Indian blood� as defined by percent of ancestry traceable to supposed “full blood Indians� to decide who is Native American for purposes of discrimination, inclusion and exclusion. The novel, written by a Penobscot author, is narrated by Charles, a man of white ancestry who was raised on the Penobscot reservation mostly by his stepfather, a tribal member, but kicked off at age 18 for lack of blood quantum. As an adult, Charles fathers a child with his girlfriend, Mary, who has a ¼ blood quantum, the minimum allowable for tribal membership—so to ensure that their daughter will also officially be ¼, rather than a mere 1/8, she marries another guy who is also ¼ and passes the kid off as his. Charles watches his daughter grow up from a distance, without having any relationship with her.
All of which seems like great fodder for a story; it’s the perfect sort of dystopian scenario for a literary novel. Unfortunately, despite its short length, it’s dull and boring, with a bafflingly passive narrator (Charles acts like all this was Mary’s decision, for instance, rather than owning the fact that he chose to never file for custody. I’m not sure he even realizes he made that choice). About 40% of the way through I realized I didn’t care about anyone in it and just skimmed the rest, reading in full the scenes involving the daughter in some way since that aspect interested me most.
Sadly, most of the book keeps the central conflict in a holding pattern, while taking it in boring directions. Instead of facing the blood quantum issue head-on, and whether the daughter (now in her late 20s) will face disenrollment by the tribe if the truth comes out, the stakes become the fact that she’s struggling with depression and how learning the truth might affect her mental health, which might have been more compelling if she were actually on-page rather than the reader learning all this secondhand. There’s a truly weird action-based climax that feels over the top and out of place, and the relationship between father and daughter never gets any real space.
Meanwhile we hear a lot about Charles’s senile mother, dead stepfather, and friends, most of which isn’t very interesting, and see a lot of his daily life, which is even less so. Charles never felt complete to me as a person—why is his life so empty? why is he so passive?—and as I read on his voice felt less and less convincing. It’s not an egregiously MFA voice, but he doesn’t much sound like a lumberjack either. It’s featureless, and thus so is he.
In the end, a big meh from me, and overall inferior to . Part of me feels like I should round up to two stars from benefit of the doubt, and there’s certainly worse out there, but the other part says that’s a bit too generous for a 235-page, dialogue-heavy novel that I nevertheless struggled to get through. Anyway, I’m off to read soon, for an examination of issues around blood quantum not mired in this bland story.
All of which seems like great fodder for a story; it’s the perfect sort of dystopian scenario for a literary novel. Unfortunately, despite its short length, it’s dull and boring, with a bafflingly passive narrator (Charles acts like all this was Mary’s decision, for instance, rather than owning the fact that he chose to never file for custody. I’m not sure he even realizes he made that choice). About 40% of the way through I realized I didn’t care about anyone in it and just skimmed the rest, reading in full the scenes involving the daughter in some way since that aspect interested me most.
Sadly, most of the book keeps the central conflict in a holding pattern, while taking it in boring directions. Instead of facing the blood quantum issue head-on, and whether the daughter (now in her late 20s) will face disenrollment by the tribe if the truth comes out, the stakes become the fact that she’s struggling with depression and how learning the truth might affect her mental health, which might have been more compelling if she were actually on-page rather than the reader learning all this secondhand. There’s a truly weird action-based climax that feels over the top and out of place, and the relationship between father and daughter never gets any real space.
Meanwhile we hear a lot about Charles’s senile mother, dead stepfather, and friends, most of which isn’t very interesting, and see a lot of his daily life, which is even less so. Charles never felt complete to me as a person—why is his life so empty? why is he so passive?—and as I read on his voice felt less and less convincing. It’s not an egregiously MFA voice, but he doesn’t much sound like a lumberjack either. It’s featureless, and thus so is he.
In the end, a big meh from me, and overall inferior to . Part of me feels like I should round up to two stars from benefit of the doubt, and there’s certainly worse out there, but the other part says that’s a bit too generous for a 235-page, dialogue-heavy novel that I nevertheless struggled to get through. Anyway, I’m off to read soon, for an examination of issues around blood quantum not mired in this bland story.
June 5, 2024
The first note I made about this book was how can a stuffed element nearly move me to tears in a few sentences. Didn’t even know that elephant would be one of my favorite things about this book, but no spoilers. Stuffed elephants aside, this exploration of who we come from and if we can ever be fully realized if we don’t know our histories worked so well through Charles and his relationship with his mother, father figure, and daughter. Watching him reconcile his existence when it feels like all he has are remains is going to stick with me.
I highly recommend checking this out!
December 31, 2024
Set near the Penobscot Reservation in Maine, Charles is a man who grew up on the Reservation with his mother and Native stepfather. He had to move out when he reached the age of majority because he is not, by birth, indigenous. Charles’s daughter, Elizabeth, lives across the river with her mother. Her mother has not allowed Charles to claim their daughter, or even have much to do with her, since she believes it is better to bring Elizabeth up on the reservation. Charles is providing care for his mother, whose memory has declined due to dementia. Charles, who has been sober for years, is also functioning as a quasi-caretaker for his alcohol-addicted friend, Bobby. He picks up Bobby from the bar and drives him home to ensure Bobby’s safety.
The first half is a slow burn, taking time to introduce the main characters and provide their backstories. Toward the end, it all comes together but I think it needs a little more of a storyline to keep the reader’s interest, especially in the first half. It is written in a straightforward manner and addresses themes such as lack of belonging, family fractures, mental issues, alcoholism, and responsibility. It is a novel that speaks to the balancing of personal desires with the needs of others.
The first half is a slow burn, taking time to introduce the main characters and provide their backstories. Toward the end, it all comes together but I think it needs a little more of a storyline to keep the reader’s interest, especially in the first half. It is written in a straightforward manner and addresses themes such as lack of belonging, family fractures, mental issues, alcoholism, and responsibility. It is a novel that speaks to the balancing of personal desires with the needs of others.
July 31, 2024
The story in this novel takes place on and near the . It incorporates within its short-story-like chapters elements of alcoholism, abandonment, physical violence, mental illness, and dementia. However, the underlying tension that holds the story together and keeps the reader’s attention is a contrived plot that demonstrates an example of the nefarious motives that are created by .
The story’s protagonist, Charles Lamosway, grew up from a young age on the reservation with his white mother and native stepfather. He could live there and grow up on the reservation but quantum laws required that he move off the reservation when he reached the age of eighteen. His stepfather helped him build his own house on the non-reservation side of a bordering river where he can look across the river at what he has lost. When his native girl friend becomes pregnant she decides to keep the child’s true paternal history a secret, and she marries a native man. Her motive for doing so is to keep her child qualified to be enrolled as a tribal member.
Charles� daughter is now an adult and still does not know her true ancestry. Charles� mother has suffered from depression much of her life and is now showing serious signs of dementia. His learns that his ‘secret� daughter is also suffering from depression, and this gives him an additional reason why she should know about the history of her true biological medical history of her ancestors.
So the tension all through the book is whether the daughter will learn about her biological heritage, and if she does what will be her reaction. The book provides a snow storm and house fire to make the story’s ending extra dramatic.
The story’s protagonist, Charles Lamosway, grew up from a young age on the reservation with his white mother and native stepfather. He could live there and grow up on the reservation but quantum laws required that he move off the reservation when he reached the age of eighteen. His stepfather helped him build his own house on the non-reservation side of a bordering river where he can look across the river at what he has lost. When his native girl friend becomes pregnant she decides to keep the child’s true paternal history a secret, and she marries a native man. Her motive for doing so is to keep her child qualified to be enrolled as a tribal member.
Charles� daughter is now an adult and still does not know her true ancestry. Charles� mother has suffered from depression much of her life and is now showing serious signs of dementia. His learns that his ‘secret� daughter is also suffering from depression, and this gives him an additional reason why she should know about the history of her true biological medical history of her ancestors.
So the tension all through the book is whether the daughter will learn about her biological heritage, and if she does what will be her reaction. The book provides a snow storm and house fire to make the story’s ending extra dramatic.
Shelved as 'did-not-finish'
October 2, 2024DNF @ 45%
Not my thing. It reads more like a series of events happening to some white dude who lived on a reservation than a deep dive into him fathering a half-Indian kid. I would've liked it a lot better if the POV was from the mixed daughter because this was pretty boring.
Not my thing. It reads more like a series of events happening to some white dude who lived on a reservation than a deep dive into him fathering a half-Indian kid. I would've liked it a lot better if the POV was from the mixed daughter because this was pretty boring.
October 14, 2024
3 stars
Do we owe our children a legacy? Are they entitled to know their culture and inherit the knowledge of the past? What if they are ripped away from us and we never know them - how do we compensate?
This is the story of bloodlines and the knowledge of the past. A bi-racial love affair, Caucasian and Native American, and the child is drawn in one direction. Which leaves her biological father on the outside.
Family. Legacy. Bloodlines. Culture. Inheritance. What is due the next generation? And once they are told, how will they react? Will knowing change their lives? For the good or for the bad?
Or are things best left alone?
Do we owe our children a legacy? Are they entitled to know their culture and inherit the knowledge of the past? What if they are ripped away from us and we never know them - how do we compensate?
This is the story of bloodlines and the knowledge of the past. A bi-racial love affair, Caucasian and Native American, and the child is drawn in one direction. Which leaves her biological father on the outside.
Family. Legacy. Bloodlines. Culture. Inheritance. What is due the next generation? And once they are told, how will they react? Will knowing change their lives? For the good or for the bad?
Or are things best left alone?
February 9, 2025
"I know what it was like to both not belong and belong."
Charlie is more than just a white man, he is a caregiver to his mother, a friend to an alcoholic, a son to his stepfather, and the biological father of a daughter that does not know he exists.
This story revolves around Charlie's dichotomy to not being indigenous and therefore his identity being a secret to his daughter that is being raised in a reservation.
The story also does an incredible job of explaining how blood quantum works and how confusing federal indigenous laws work.
Heartbreaking. Understandable. Conflicting.
Charlie is more than just a white man, he is a caregiver to his mother, a friend to an alcoholic, a son to his stepfather, and the biological father of a daughter that does not know he exists.
This story revolves around Charlie's dichotomy to not being indigenous and therefore his identity being a secret to his daughter that is being raised in a reservation.
The story also does an incredible job of explaining how blood quantum works and how confusing federal indigenous laws work.
Heartbreaking. Understandable. Conflicting.
June 8, 2024
I really enjoyed Night of the Living Rez so I was very excited to read FIRE EXIT by Morgan Talty and I really enjoyed this novel too!! It’s about Charles who lives across the river from Maine’s Penobscot Reservation. He’s dealing with caring for his mother Louise who has dementia, his friendship with Bobby who is wanting to move away but not really, the loss of his stepfather and trying to connect with his secret daughter. I loved how Charles described what it means to be Native and how it’s not just living on the reserve. I really enjoyed how this novel focused heavily on family, heritage, connection, and culture. Definitely recommend to contemporary lit fic lovers like me!
Thank you to the publisher for my ARC!
Thank you to the publisher for my ARC!
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