From Our Book Club: March Read Review — The Wilderness by Angela Flournoy
The Wilderness is a novel that sits in the in-between — of friendship, ambition, and the ongoing process of becoming.
Angela Flournoy’s novel follows five Black women over the course of nearly two decades as they move through friendship, ambition, love, and the quiet, often complicated process of becoming. Set across cities like New York and Los Angeles, the story traces how their lives intersect, separate, and occasionally circle back to one another.
One of the strongest elements of this novel is its cultural nuance. The way these women speak to each other, the environments they navigate, and the decisions they make all feel grounded in a lived-in reality. There’s a familiarity to it — especially in moments where the characters are simply existing together, whether that’s through casual conversations, navigating workspaces, or processing relationships. Those scenes feel less like plot points and more like observation, which makes the reading experience feel immersive, almost as if you’re in the room with them.
At times, the novel feels reminiscent of ensemble-driven shows like Harlem, where the core of the story isn’t just what happens, but how a group of women move through life alongside each other. There’s a quiet attention to the rhythms of adulthood — the shifting dynamics of friendships, the tension between personal goals and relationships, and the subtle ways people grow apart without a clear breaking point.
However, this is also where the book becomes more complex — and at times, more challenging to stay connected to.
With five central characters and a timeline that spans nearly two decades, the narrative moves between multiple storylines, each offering its own perspective. While this creates a broad and layered view of modern womanhood, it also becomes one of the book’s downfalls. The extended timeline means we often move quickly through significant life moments — career shifts, evolving relationships, personal turning points — without always having the space to fully sit with them.
This book is positioned as a story about female friendship, so naturally, I was expecting to feel more of that on the page. We’re told these women love each other deeply, and you can see glimpses of that throughout. But more often than not, we’re sitting in their individual perspectives — their inner lives, their personal struggles — and less in the actual space of the friendship. And at times, when they are together, it leans more toward tension or frustration with one another.
To be fair, that real life. There are moments where the book leans into broader social critique. Some of those reflections were strong and thought-provoking, but at times they felt slightly unpacked.
Instead of a continuous emotional thread, the story unfolds in fragments, which can make it difficult to maintain momentum. Some of those reflections were strong and thought-provoking, but at times they felt slightly unpacked and making it harder to fully invest in any single arc.
Because of this, I didn’t always feel a strong pull to keep turning the page. The curiosity that typically drives a reader forward — wondering what will happen next, or how a storyline will resolve felt more subdued. It’s not that the story lacks depth, but rather that it prioritizes reflection over narrative drive.
That said, there is value in that approach.
The Wilderness offers a portrayal of adulthood that feels honest in its lack of neat resolution. Life doesn’t always unfold in clear, connected arcs. Friendships don’t always have defined endings. Growth isn’t always linear. In that way, the novel mirrors real life — sometimes scattered, sometimes uncertain, and often still unfolding.
Overall, this is a book for readers who appreciate character-driven fiction and are willing to sit with ambiguity. While I deeply appreciated the cultural nuance and the familiarity of the characters’ experiences and the character if I had to pick one that I most similar to is, Nakia Washington.
Rating: 3/5
P.S. We had the opportunity to hear Angela Flournoy in conversation earlier this month, which made this read feel especially timely. We’re deeply appreciative of her literary work and the way she captures the nuances of friendship, identity, and becoming.
