Scan barcode
A review by booksamongstfriends
Isaac's Song by Daniel Black
5.0
Another deeply reflective piece for readers to sit with and learn from. I’ll preface this by saying I completely understand why some readers might not love this as much as Don’t Cry For Me. But the love is still there! The story feels familiar, yet we’re given even more insight and angles to approach it from. It’s like experiencing a series that’s done in such an artful, poetic, and touching way. The layering and connectedness of it all—that’s the sweet spot of this read. It makes me hopeful to finally hear from Isaac’s mother.
As someone with older parents, some of the lessons and conversations in this book hit close to home. Once again, Daniel Black has delivered a work that’s stunningly self-aware in its exploration of change, generational trauma, unpacking, and readdressing the realities of our past selves and childhood through a lens of forgiveness and honesty.
I personally found the storytelling masterful. Black’s decision to revisit elements of Isaac’s history through therapy adds so much depth to this book. We witness how Isaac’s memories and connections are challenged as he unveils so much of himself to his therapist. And just like Isaac, we as readers are drawn into this process, reassessing who Isaac’s father was to him. This is done so beautifully that you don’t just feel for Isaac—you feel alongside him.
I loved the depth of Isaac’s pain and growth. He’s a character that, like many, seeks acceptance and acknowledgment from his parents while also fighting to give it to himself. We see his struggle to become the truest version of himself that he’s been told he could never be. This truly brought the ending home for me, with its sense of relief—Isaac finally lets go of the weight of his father’s approval.
The therapist’s commentary throughout the book is another highlight. Time and again, a mirror is held up to Isaac, showing how his inability to love himself affects his ability to love others. The narrative emphasizes the importance of forgiving oneself as a means to forgive others—particularly one’s parents—and to see them as whole, flawed individuals outside of one’s expectations.
There’s so much in this book that doesn’t just appeal but deeply resonates. Whether it’s the journey of self-discovery, grappling with sexual identity and acceptance, or the continued lessons of forgiveness and generational healing, Black captures emotions with stunning clarity. Readers can feel pain, compassion, disappointment, hope, and so much more!
I particularly appreciated that the forgiveness in this book doesn’t absolve Jacob of how he treated Isaac. Instead, it’s a grace and insight that fosters connection and growth—even posthumously. By the end, we see a bridge built and the recognition that Isaac is, in many ways, his father’s son.
Now I’m really hoping we don’t just hear from Isaac’s mother, but also get a book set during the time of his parents’ youth.
Thank you to NetGalley & Harlequin for this e-galley!
As someone with older parents, some of the lessons and conversations in this book hit close to home. Once again, Daniel Black has delivered a work that’s stunningly self-aware in its exploration of change, generational trauma, unpacking, and readdressing the realities of our past selves and childhood through a lens of forgiveness and honesty.
I personally found the storytelling masterful. Black’s decision to revisit elements of Isaac’s history through therapy adds so much depth to this book. We witness how Isaac’s memories and connections are challenged as he unveils so much of himself to his therapist. And just like Isaac, we as readers are drawn into this process, reassessing who Isaac’s father was to him. This is done so beautifully that you don’t just feel for Isaac—you feel alongside him.
I loved the depth of Isaac’s pain and growth. He’s a character that, like many, seeks acceptance and acknowledgment from his parents while also fighting to give it to himself. We see his struggle to become the truest version of himself that he’s been told he could never be. This truly brought the ending home for me, with its sense of relief—Isaac finally lets go of the weight of his father’s approval.
The therapist’s commentary throughout the book is another highlight. Time and again, a mirror is held up to Isaac, showing how his inability to love himself affects his ability to love others. The narrative emphasizes the importance of forgiving oneself as a means to forgive others—particularly one’s parents—and to see them as whole, flawed individuals outside of one’s expectations.
There’s so much in this book that doesn’t just appeal but deeply resonates. Whether it’s the journey of self-discovery, grappling with sexual identity and acceptance, or the continued lessons of forgiveness and generational healing, Black captures emotions with stunning clarity. Readers can feel pain, compassion, disappointment, hope, and so much more!
I particularly appreciated that the forgiveness in this book doesn’t absolve Jacob of how he treated Isaac. Instead, it’s a grace and insight that fosters connection and growth—even posthumously. By the end, we see a bridge built and the recognition that Isaac is, in many ways, his father’s son.
Now I’m really hoping we don’t just hear from Isaac’s mother, but also get a book set during the time of his parents’ youth.
Thank you to NetGalley & Harlequin for this e-galley!