Breakaway Books

Authored by Yann Martel; Published March 2026; Historical Fiction

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ / 🏖️🏖️

If The Odyssey were more like Son of Nobody, perhaps I would have gotten into the Homeric epics. It has humor and heartbreak, and it beautifully depicts how humanity is the same regardless of the era. 

In Son of Nobody, a classics scholar receives the opportunity of a lifetime to study newly discovered ancient texts, but it means leaving his wife and daughter behind in Canada. As he pieces together a new epic, told from the point of view of the common man, his life begins to fall apart around him. It becomes clear that as much as has changed between the time of Homer and now, humanity has largely stayed the same.

Okay, I admit it: I’ve never read The Odyssey or any other ancient epic of its kind. But perhaps I would if they were like Son of Nobody. Split between the epic poem and an explanation of how the author came across it, it zooms by. Even the epic itself is humorous and irreverent while also managing to be quite touching. I love the concept of a story told from the point of view of a commoner when it’s normally only the nobles who get to have a voice. However, it’s really the story of the “author” that is the focus of this novel, and the structure by which that story is told. As he works to compose and translate the Psoad, his masterpiece, he has to deal with his failing marriage and the distance from his sweet daughter. We read echo after echo of the struggles from the author’s life in the Psoad itself, even as he is repeatedly critiqued for his offbeat project by his adviser—but we read it all in the footnotes. The explicit connections, marked by tiny little numbers, is a fascinating way to convey how little we’ve changed over the years. 

I’ve been on quite the roll lately reading about academics well and truly obsessed with their subjects to the detriment of everyone around them. The author in this novel has such strong tunnel vision that moving an ocean away from his wife and his young daughter barely fazes him. As he narrates the story of his work in second person to said daughter, Helen, my heart breaks for him. It’s almost as if he’s seeing the entire story through her eyes, in spite of the fact that she knows almost nothing of his studies. How could a father adore his daughter so much and still leave? But I suppose there are times when I have felt exactly that passionate about my work.

Son of Nobody may just pique your interest in ancient epics, even as it breaks your heart. It’s not exactly a traditional novel, but it is definitely worth a read.