The Children, by Melissa Albert — An ARC Review

Cover Image courtesy of
Harper Collins/William Morrow

First, thank you to the publishers for providing this ARC via NetGalley. This is my first read from author Albert, and I didn’t know what to expect.

Here’s what to expect: A dark fairytale about the repercussions of childhood fame. It’s more than that, because it’s dark and edgy with elements of magical realism and characters full of seemingly irreconcilable flaws until (maybe?) the bitter end, and if you like flawed and struggling characters, this book holds promise. I personally tend to favor stories with characters who have their own demons to face, and this delivers on that point. There’s something to hate about almost every character in this book, even the MC, but those unlikable qualities deepen character and lead to sincere moments of empathy.

Guinevere is the lead protagonist here. She, and her older brother Ennis, are the estranged children of a famed children’s book author named Edith Sharpe, who built her characters—even named them—after her own kids. The wild popularity of the book series thrust Guin and Ennis into an unforgiving public spotlight at a young age, and as adults, they have grown into their own famous artistic endeavors while having drifted far apart from their childhood days of protecting each other from their parents’ borderline abuse and neglect. 

Mostly neglect. Mother Edith is too focused on her writing; she has responsibilities to meet the demands of the public after all. And father Llewellyn watches his artistic prowess get increasingly shoved to a back burner due to his wife’s eclipsing fame. And the kids…well, they’re the titled characters of the book series, and rabid fans often choose not to tell the difference between fiction and their reality. Their childhood is robbed in many ways, not only because of public scrutiny, but also because mom and dad are so wrapped up in their artistic and Bohemian lifestyle that they tend to overlook what’s happening to their kids daily.

The story cuts back and forth between that childhood, that leads to a major tragedy, and to the present, where Guin is back in the spotlight with a memoir, and Ennis is embroiled in his own controversies involving his famed antics as a Banksy-like artist. Guin struggles to come to terms with imposter syndrome, with her past, the weird pieces that never fit together from it, and the desire to reconnect with her estranged brother to find answers.

It’s a compelling and well written piece, most definitely, with tough and heartbreaking character moments. That having been said, I personally found some usage of metaphor to be overly ambitious. Enough to pull me out of the story. I’m not wholly satisfied by the ending either, as I don’t feel like Guin truly came to terms with her traumatic childhood—or her imposter syndrome—in a useful way. I’d say more, but fear it will be a spoiler.

All in all, though, it’s an intriguing story with traumatic undertones and a creatively thought out, supernatural tinged, mystery at its core.

Due out June, 2026, find it here, or wherever books are sold.