Although her descriptions of the reactor’s mechanics are absorbing, Williams’s novel is concerned less with technical failures than with human ones, particularly a conformist culture’s pernicious habit of mistaking that which endangers — military and marital discipline, masculine and nuclear power — for that which safeguards.
Estranged-marriage novels may be a dime a dozen, but this one stands apart. Williams expertly brings her beautifully written story to a tense conclusion you’ll still be thinking of long after you turn the last page.
The Longest Night deftly speaks to uncertainty—scientific, emotional, and psychological—as great and terrible power is manipulated, harnessed, lost, and exposed. This complicated wrestling with uncertainty is a large part of what makes this novel both historical and contemporary.
Nat’s humorously seditious thoughts ultimately breathe great fun and excitement into The Longest Night. Her growing resolve brings the book to a finish that not only packs taut, enthralling and utterly absorbing drama, but unexpected triumph and grace.
This fine debut novel appropriates that event as a way to portray a group of military families brought together at the dawn of the nuclear age. The author, herself the wife of a naval officer, subtly explores the pressures put on military families ... Williams’ description of the explosion and its horrific lethality is more than enough to make one glad that the nuclear age is ending.
