Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall

After hearing about Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall nonstop since its debut in March, I finally picked it up and gave it a try. I went in curious but cautious. The synopsis never fully hooked me, not because it felt outside my taste, but because it leaned a little too hard into what I usually think of as family drama territory. There was a part of me that worried it would feel soap opera adjacent, and while that wasn’t entirely fair, it also wasn’t completely wrong.

There is a twist, and yes, it is a good one that I didn’t see coming. But I also felt like I aged five years waiting to get there. The pacing made the journey feel long, and not in a slow-burning way that builds tension. Instead, the emotional weight shows up early and never really shifts, so by the time the reveal landed, I felt more tired than surprised.

What’s interesting, and totally valid, is that the reaction to this book online is wildly different from my own. People love it! I saw one reviewer describe it as cozy, which stopped me in my tracks. That was not my experience at all, at least not at first. After sitting with it, though, I can see how someone might feel that way. The book positions you as a quiet observer. You are not meant to rush through it or feel propelled by plot. You are meant to sit with these people and their histories, almost like standing in the corner of a room while their lives unfold.

From a psychological standpoint, this is where the book is both effective and exhausting. From the opening pages, the characters are carrying unresolved grief, longing, and a deep need for validation. Everyone is trying to understand where they belong, how they fit within their family, and whether they are allowed to want more than the life they have. That emotional intensity is present immediately, and it never really lets up.

Now lets talk characters – I’ll be the first to say that they are largely not unlikable. That was never the issue for me. What was an issue for me, was that there is just so much time spent inside their internal landscapes, their memories, and their regrets, that it becomes heavy to carry as a reader. The book asks you, the reader, to hold a lot of emotional context at all times. Psychologically, this mirrors what the characters themselves are experiencing. They are stuck in their own histories, looping through old wounds and unresolved relationships, unable to fully move forward. As a reader, you feel that stagnation too.

There is also a strong sense of emotional claustrophobia. The relationships are tight, intertwined, and charged with unspoken expectations. Much of the conflict is internal rather than external (again, I found this exhausting). People want things they feel they should not want, or they hold resentment alongside love, and they seek acceptance while fearing exposure. All of that is deeply human, but it also requires energy to sit with for long stretches of time.

I think this is where my personal taste comes into play. Family dramas are not usually my go-to, though I have enjoyed more of them this year and felt like the timing was finally right to give this one a shot. I can appreciate what Broken Country is doing. I can even understand why it resonates with so many readers. It captures emotional realism and psychological tension with real care. But for me, once I waded through the descriptions and backstories, I found myself with less and less energy to stay invested.

All of that being said, I recognize that that very emotional weight is the point of the book, but it is also what made it feel dull to me at times. When everything is heavy from the start, there is little contrast to bring it to life. There are very few moments of relief, surprise, or momentum. The characters are always searching for meaning, for connection, for reassurance, and while that is honest, it can also feel draining as a reading experience.

In the end, Broken Country is a book I respect more than I enjoyed. It is thoughtful, emotional, and clearly meaningful to many readers, it just didn’t fully work for me. If you enjoy being immersed in character psychology and sitting quietly with emotional complexity, I can see this being a rewarding read. If you are someone who needs a stronger sense of movement or payoff along the way, it might feel like a long emotional walk without enough variation in pace.

I am glad I read it. I understand the praise. But I also feel comfortable saying that it was not a standout for me.