Gorgeous and powerful ... They say reading is dying, and maybe it is. But works like this one will ensure there will always be a place for what novels alone can achieve.
A month into the year, the first great novel of 2026 is here ... It’s riveting stuff, in part because the picture of the Sharafs is so complex as readers try to assemble the dozens of narrators’ accounts into a whole picture.
Accomplished ... Sabit skillfully inhabits the voices of Rahmat’s acquaintances in the Afghan community, his Virginia neighbors and the eyewitnesses of events leading up to Zorah’s demise. The composite picture is contradictory, reflecting the complexities of a family living the American dream but still tied to the customs of their people and their faith ... Since we are not privy to the perspectives of any of the Sharafs, there is a somewhat frustrating hole at the center of Good People. This intelligent novel is instead interested in the effects of gossip, bias and assumptions, and the ways that a single set of facts can be used to construct completely different conclusions.
Good People’s structure is both its strength and its greatest limitation. The narrative feeds us, morsel after morsel, so we never have to work too hard; and while there is stimulating cultural commentary, the structure prevents any deeper emotional, interior journey of character. I wolfed down Good People in two sittings. It kept me stimulated, educated and definitely not bored, though not really nourished either – but that, of course, is how we live now. People, good and bad, are going to love it.
Masterful ... A stinging reminder that success often exacts a hidden toll. At once heartbreaking and hypnotic, Sabit’s is a novel that demands to be devoured.
The parade of voices is a bit overlong, and at times the overall voice feels too similar for a novel designed around multiple perspectives. But it thoughtfully underscores the idea that the American melting pot rarely melts consistently. A well-turned and provocative first novel.
