It’s almost impossible to express how much I loved this book. In elegant and pristine prose, Maggie O’Farrell has captured the essence of the lives of an Irish family, bringing us into a variety of key moments both in their history and the world’s, laying bare how each connects to and impacts the other and leaving us awestruck at what we see and how she’s gifted it to us. We may only be halfway through 2026, but it’s hard to imagine any other books this year speaking to me the way this one does.

In the years after the Great Hunger decimated the population of Ireland, Tomás has been hired by the British government to map out the countryside, dragging his son Liam along to assist. Tomás is gifted at the task and thus has earned at least a modicum of respect from the intruding forces and Liam can see his father’s gift, but as is often the case among children, he has little interest in following in his footsteps. Meanwhile, his wife Phina is left at home to tend to daughters Enda and Rose, the former of which yearns to be taken on one of the mapmaking expeditions. Over the course of several years, we watch as the family struggles to stay afloat, especially challenging after a dark incident in the countryside leaves Tomás forever scarred.

O’Farrell is a sure-footed guide through their story, bringing us into everyone’s perspective at least once, even loyal dog Bran’s. She carries us back to learn of Tomás and Phina’s meeting, then further back to learn the history of a plot of land they will come to call home, and then forward once more as the family is gradually rent apart by time, circumstance, and their own decisions.

Every sentence of Land is a joy to behold as we are taken on a whirlwind tour of human emotion; cracking a smile over a clever turn of phrase one moment, feeling our hearts swell almost full to bursting at another, and shedding tears at a moment of unexpected tragedy the next. Expertly charting the intense bonds of family, the need to be seen for one’s true self, the majesty of nature, and the regret that sometimes comes with wisdom, there’s nary a passage within that doesn’t ring out with achingly beautiful truth.

Some books can leave us feeling subtly changed, knowing that we’ll never look at the world around us quite the same way after reading them. At least for me, Land is one such book. It’s a genuine masterpiece, a map of our links to each other and the very Earth we call home, both epic and intimate at once, and utterly unforgettable. ★★★★★