Want to join the Club?

Country People

Daniel Mason

Literary
Satire
Includes a Dog

At a glance

🏅
GMA Book Club pick
🤣
Laugh out loud funny
🌲
Noah Kahan vibes
🫟
Embrace the whimsy

A year in the life of a family as they strike out into the unknown (aka Vermont)—a “witty and gorgeous” (The Guardian) novel from Pulitzer Prize finalist Daniel Mason, the bestselling author of North Woods.

Miles Krzelewski is a devoted husband, a doting father beloved for his outlandish bedtime stories, and the proud owner of a truffle-hunting dog in a land with no truffles. He is also a bit lost, twelve years late with his PhD on Russian folktales and increasingly haunted by a sense that he’s become a disappointment to his family. So when his wife, Kate, accepts a visiting professorship at a prestigious college in the faraway forests of Vermont, he decides that this will be the year to finally move forward with his life.

But Miles is a man of many enthusiasms, one who possesses, in Kate’s words, a great capacity “to fall in with anyone, anywhere.” And no sooner does he arrive than he finds himself entangled with a cast of characters as colorful as those of any of his folktales, from a ghostly tree surgeon to a scythe-mad biochemist, from a Shakespearean temptress to a photographer of snowflakes obsessed with chronicling, on thousands of index cards, the world’s delusions in an Inventory of Wrong Ideas.

The new friends, the enchanted woods, the histories: sure, no PhD, but all good fun. Until Miles stumbles upon a bizarre—perhaps ridiculous—local legend, which, he soon suspects, might not be just a legend after all.

Joyous, absurd, and life-affirming, Country People is a luminous exploration of marriage and parenthood, the nature of belief and the power of stories, and the ways in which we find connection in an increasingly fragmented world.

Don’t just take
our word for it

“Charming . . . a prescription for summer amusement that takes immediate effect. . . . lovely if occasionally confounding company, like going in and out of a thick mist. . . . the prose of Country People flows like a babbling brook . . . There’s so much fine, freewheeling observation and pillowy erudition here, it’s tempting just to sink in.”

- The New York Times

“The surface structures in Country People may be sugar-spun, but the novel’s foundations are solid, and its roots—the tangled and interconnected web of stories that gave rise to its new stories—are deliciously deep. The esoteric is counterbalanced by the mundane; family life is judged as worthy of investigation as underground caverns; and the whole thing is delivered in prose so witty and gorgeous that it calls to mind Nabokov’s comic masterpiece Pnin, surely another of the book’s literary antecedents. This is, put simply, a joyful book—and the deeper you dig, the more joyful it becomes.”

- The Guardian

“Satirical but big-hearted and empathetic. . . . Mason is a lively, fluid writer; here he glides smoothly between present and past, myth and everyday detail, skepticism and credulity. He has fun with his characters without making fun of them. . . . It is simply put, very funny. . . . Reading Country People in public I kept having to muffle my LOLs. That’s never a bad sign. The affection that Mason clearly feels for Miles and his brood is infectious.”

- The Boston Globe

Get a taste

The wife had been offered a one-year visiting professorship at a college in Vermont, and the husband was married to the wife.

They had two children, a son and a daughter. The plan was for the husband to finish the first draft of his dissertation, which he had been working on for fourteen years, twelve years longer than intended. But a week before they departed, they read an article describing the “child-care deserts” of rural America, so he knew deep down in his heart that he would be watching their kids.

The truth was that he already knew this, because this is what had happened at their home in the city, which was not a child- care desert. But the college was prestigious, an exciting opportunity for the family, an adventure.

And he loved deserts! As a boy, he had been to the Grand Canyon, and kept a “Creatures of the Southwest” poster on his wall.

They had driven there from California, because of the dog, whom they couldn’t bear to put in cargo.

In the beginning, the dog sat in the back, between the two children. They had cleared a spot. By Sacramento, the spot was needed for a box of Goldfish crackers the size of the daughter, and the dog had hopped over the divide and settled in the husband’s lap, where it remained. It was assertive and warm, with warm, cadaveric breath, and each time the husband tried to move it, it adopted a posture of such defiant deadweight that he felt as if he were lifting a dog-shaped bag of water. At night, in the motel showers, he could still see the imprint of its talons on his legs.

The wife reminded him that the correct word was “paw,” not a difficult word to remember.

The dog was a breed called a Lagotto Romagnolo, from Italy, which the husband was always embarrassed to share, because it sounded like a luxury sports car, while the truth was the dog had cost the same as every other dog during the pandemic, but it was the first hypoallergenic dog to come off waiting lists in California, Oregon, Arizona, Nevada, and Idaho. Every other dog was taken. The family had written pleading letters, sat for interviews, submitted videos of their home, videos of their children, and each time they had been rejected by the cabal of profiteering breeders who saw that time of suffering as a moment to assert their superiority over desperate, allergic professionals homebound with their kids.

Want to join the Club?

Book notes

  • 🙋‍♀️ Why we chose

    Miles Krzelewski is a prince who’s been turned into a frog, a strangely-named imp who spins gold into straw, a middle-aged father who is also a twelfth-year PhD student. He’s the man who studied fairy tales with such ferocity that he became the hero of his own.

    His wife has just accepted a visiting professorship in rural Vermont, giving Miles his big chance to finally move on with his life—maybe even finish that festering dissertation—but alas! He’s condemned to be a man on a journey (“Miles,” indeed) that goes nowhere: who prefers the climb to the summit, who thrives on the bliss and agony of perpetual stagnation.

    While his brilliant wife writes brilliant books and delivers brilliant lectures and clinks wine glasses with her brilliant colleagues, Miles waddles through his own charming mediocrity. He encounters eccentric local characters, increasingly believable conspiracy theories, and the looming fringes of an enchanted wood—where, when the clock strikes midnight, he might turn into a princess or a pumpkin, and who’s to say which? In all seriousness, Country People is wise and witty and laugh-out-loud funny, capped off with Daniel Mason’s unmatched literary style.

    August reading vibes: Read it at the cabin, somewhere rural and remote, with porches and vineyards and neighbours you might actually stop to say hi to. Somewhere you can escape from time and space and social graces and just fall in love with reading again. Somewhere you can really laugh out loud—without everyone on the subway turning to look at you funny.