THE HOMEMADE GOD
BY RACHEL JOYCE | PUBLICATION: JULY 8, 2025DOUBLEDAY CANADA | GENRE: LITERARY FICTION
RATING: ★★★★★
"It’s never the loudest character or the most dramatic twist—it’s the quiet truth that lingers."
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There is a heatwave across Europe, and four siblings have gathered at their family’s lake house to seek answers about their father, a famous artist, who recently remarried a much younger woman and decamped to Italy to finish his long-awaited masterpiece.
Now he is dead. And there is no sign of his final painting.
As the siblings try to piece together what happened, they spend the summer in a state of lawlessness: living under the same roof for the first time in decades, forced to confront the buried wounds they incurred as his children, and waiting for answers. Though they have always been close, the things they learn that summer—about themselves—and their father—will drive them apart before they can truly understand his legacy. Meanwhile, their stepmother’s enigmatic presence looms over the house. Is she the force that will finally destroy the family for good?
Wonderfully atmospheric, at heart this is a novel about the bonds of siblinghood—what happens when they splinter, and what it might take to reconnect them. -PRH
Now he is dead. And there is no sign of his final painting.
As the siblings try to piece together what happened, they spend the summer in a state of lawlessness: living under the same roof for the first time in decades, forced to confront the buried wounds they incurred as his children, and waiting for answers. Though they have always been close, the things they learn that summer—about themselves—and their father—will drive them apart before they can truly understand his legacy. Meanwhile, their stepmother’s enigmatic presence looms over the house. Is she the force that will finally destroy the family for good?
Wonderfully atmospheric, at heart this is a novel about the bonds of siblinghood—what happens when they splinter, and what it might take to reconnect them. -PRH
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"The Quiet Resurrection of a Goose: A Masterpiece"
In THE HOMEMADE GOD, Rachel Joyce once again proves that the heart of a story doesn’t need to be loud to be unforgettable. While the novel opens with the death of Vic Kemp—the flamboyant artist and flawed patriarch—it’s his son Goose who quietly steals the narrative. Often overlooked, Goose becomes the emotional compass of the novel.
Rachel Joyce is a genius at crafting fractured, complex characters who feel heartbreakingly real. Here, she places four siblings—Netta, Susan, Goose, and Iris—inside the sweltering heat of an Italian summer, in a lakeside villa that holds more ghosts than memories. What begins as a mystery surrounding their father Vic’s death and missing masterpiece soon reveals itself to be something deeper: a portrait of a family in quiet collapse.
The first part of the novel is deceptively warm. The siblings, despite their differences, share a bond forged in childhood and shaped by their adoration for their father. But Joyce, as always, knows how to shift the light. The second part dives into the undercurrent—the unspoken wounds, the buried resentments, the truths too painful to name. It’s here the novel breaks open. And it’s here that Goose, the third in the pack, begins to rise.
What struck me most was how Joyce, as she always does, finds her center (which I'd like to discuss in detail on a different post). It’s never the loudest character or the most dramatic twist—it’s the quiet truth that lingers. Goose reminded me so much of Benji from Fredrik Backman’s books. Both are beautiful, broken men who carry their pain with grace. Goose, despite his damage and breakdowns, remains open. Joyce paints him with aching tenderness: a failed artist, a wounded child, a man searching for something that doesn’t hurt to hold. And when Billy enters the story—a miracle in human form—everything changes. Billy is the kind of person everyone needs: gentle, firm, enveloping. His love doesn’t fix Goose; it allows him to heal. Goose's journey back to art, and into the arms of Billy, is not just a subplot—it’s a resurrection. In a family fractured by ego and grief, Goose chooses creation over destruction. His love story is gentle, his healing slow, but every step feels earned.
This book is slow. It takes its time. It cries out all its tears. And then, with quiet courage, it opens its palms to love again. Goose’s return to art, and his acceptance of love, is the novel’s heartbeat. In a story filled with grief and legacy, he chooses creation. He chooses peace.
In the final chapter, Bella-Mae’s masterpiece reminds us that art isn’t made from what’s pristine—it’s made from what’s lived. Broken things, forgotten things, everyday things. Together, they form something divine. And in that image, the Kemp family finds not just closure, but grace.
This novel doesn’t offer easy redemption. It offers something better: the possibility of peace. And Goose, with his paintbrush and his quiet heart, shows us how to get there. The Homemade God is a book of hope, of healing, and of art—the art of loving and being loved.
In THE HOMEMADE GOD, Rachel Joyce once again proves that the heart of a story doesn’t need to be loud to be unforgettable. While the novel opens with the death of Vic Kemp—the flamboyant artist and flawed patriarch—it’s his son Goose who quietly steals the narrative. Often overlooked, Goose becomes the emotional compass of the novel.
Rachel Joyce is a genius at crafting fractured, complex characters who feel heartbreakingly real. Here, she places four siblings—Netta, Susan, Goose, and Iris—inside the sweltering heat of an Italian summer, in a lakeside villa that holds more ghosts than memories. What begins as a mystery surrounding their father Vic’s death and missing masterpiece soon reveals itself to be something deeper: a portrait of a family in quiet collapse.
The first part of the novel is deceptively warm. The siblings, despite their differences, share a bond forged in childhood and shaped by their adoration for their father. But Joyce, as always, knows how to shift the light. The second part dives into the undercurrent—the unspoken wounds, the buried resentments, the truths too painful to name. It’s here the novel breaks open. And it’s here that Goose, the third in the pack, begins to rise.
What struck me most was how Joyce, as she always does, finds her center (which I'd like to discuss in detail on a different post). It’s never the loudest character or the most dramatic twist—it’s the quiet truth that lingers. Goose reminded me so much of Benji from Fredrik Backman’s books. Both are beautiful, broken men who carry their pain with grace. Goose, despite his damage and breakdowns, remains open. Joyce paints him with aching tenderness: a failed artist, a wounded child, a man searching for something that doesn’t hurt to hold. And when Billy enters the story—a miracle in human form—everything changes. Billy is the kind of person everyone needs: gentle, firm, enveloping. His love doesn’t fix Goose; it allows him to heal. Goose's journey back to art, and into the arms of Billy, is not just a subplot—it’s a resurrection. In a family fractured by ego and grief, Goose chooses creation over destruction. His love story is gentle, his healing slow, but every step feels earned.
This book is slow. It takes its time. It cries out all its tears. And then, with quiet courage, it opens its palms to love again. Goose’s return to art, and his acceptance of love, is the novel’s heartbeat. In a story filled with grief and legacy, he chooses creation. He chooses peace.
In the final chapter, Bella-Mae’s masterpiece reminds us that art isn’t made from what’s pristine—it’s made from what’s lived. Broken things, forgotten things, everyday things. Together, they form something divine. And in that image, the Kemp family finds not just closure, but grace.
This novel doesn’t offer easy redemption. It offers something better: the possibility of peace. And Goose, with his paintbrush and his quiet heart, shows us how to get there. The Homemade God is a book of hope, of healing, and of art—the art of loving and being loved.
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About the Author:
Rachel Joyce is the author of the Sunday Times and international bestsellers The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy, and Perfect. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry was short-listed for the Commonwealth Book Prize and long-listed for the Man Booker Prize and has been translated into thirty-six languages. Joyce was awarded the Specsavers National Book Awards New Writer of the Year in 2012. She is also the author of the digital short story A Faraway Smell of Lemon and is the award-winning writer of more than thirty original afternoon plays and classic adaptations for BBC Radio 4. Rachel Joyce lives with her family in Gloucestershire.
Photo by Justin Sutcliffe
*Penguin Random House provided the eARC
in exchange for this unbiased review.
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