Wednesday, August 20, 2025

Far from the Tree

 Robin Benway


Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Contemporary Fiction + Young Adult

Initial Impressions
I’d heard a lot of praise for Far From the Tree over the years; people seemed genuinely moved by it. I actually bought my copy back in 2018, but didn’t get around to reading it until 2025. That gap made me a little wary. Young adult fiction and I don’t always get along, especially when the emotional beats feel too engineered. Still, I figured I’d give it a shot and see how it holds up.

Summary
The story centers on three biological siblings—Grace, Maya, and Joaquin—who were separated at birth and raised in very different circumstances. Grace, the middle child, has a stable adoptive family, but after giving up her own baby for adoption, she’s left reeling. That decision seems to crack something open in her, prompting a search for the siblings she’s never met.

Maya, the youngest, lives in a well-off, mostly white household. She’s biracial, outspoken, and often feels like she’s straddling two worlds. Her family’s issues, like alcoholism, denial, and a general unwillingness to talk about hard things, don’t help. Meeting Grace and Joaquin offers her a kind of emotional mirror, though not always a comforting one.

Joaquin, the eldest, has had the roughest go of it. He’s spent most of his life in foster care, moving from one home to another. His walls are high, and understandably so. But as he gets to know Grace and Maya, he starts to question what family could mean, not in the traditional sense, but in a way that feels real to him.

The novel doesn’t rush their connection. It’s messy, tentative, and layered with all the baggage you’d expect from three teenagers trying to stitch together a shared history they never lived. The story has many themes that it explores, like identity, belonging, and the complicated nature of family, but what stands out most to me is how the siblings slowly learn to trust each other, not because they’re supposed to, but because they choose to.


The Characters
Robin Benway writes with a kind of quiet empathy that gives each sibling space to breathe. Grace is introspective and guilt-ridden, Maya is sharp and defensive, Joaquin is guarded but deeply sensitive. None of them feel like archetypes, which is refreshing. Their personalities aren’t just shaped by their circumstances—they’re shaped by how they respond to those circumstances, which makes them feel more human.

Benway doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable emotions. There’s grief, resentment, fear of rejection, but also humor, awkwardness, and moments of genuine warmth. The dialogue feels lived-in, and the internal monologues are often where the most honest moments happen. I won’t get into the side characters too much—some of them play pivotal roles, but mentioning them would risk spoiling a few key turns.

Writing Style
Benway’s prose is straightforward but emotionally resonant. She switches between the siblings’ perspectives without losing momentum, and each voice feels distinct enough that you rarely get confused about who’s speaking. The pacing is deliberate. Some scenes linger longer than expected, but that slowness often works in the book’s favor. It gives the emotional beats room to land.

There’s a kind of everyday realism to the writing. It’s not trying to be literary or edgy; it’s trying to be honest. And while some of the humor leans a bit YA-snarky, it’s balanced by quieter moments that feel earned rather than inserted for effect.

Setting and Atmosphere
The story hops around different American suburbs and cities, but honestly, the places I felt were more like a mirror of each sibling’s headspace than anything else. Grace’s home feels cozy and reliable, Maya’s is shiny and put-together but kind of fragile underneath, and Joaquin’s life is all about uncertainty and moving around. I was able to clearly feel how their different worlds reflected the emotional gaps they were trying to close. I think every reader will be able to identify that.

The overall mood of the story is quiet, an almost constant sense of longing running through it—not just for family, but for the characters in understanding themselves and where they belong. Despite the heavy subject, it’s not all heavy, though; little moments of connection, jokes, and everyday life make it feel real and quite relatable. The mood sneaks up on you—it’s tender and charged in a way that feels natural rather than forced.


Final Thoughts
Far From the Tree is one of those books that may not blow you away with plot twists or lyrical prose, but it sticks with you because of how honestly it treats its characters. It’s not trying to solve the complexities of adoption or identity. It’s just trying to show what it feels like to live through them.

That said, a few plot turns felt a little too neat, and some secondary arcs could’ve used more depth. But those are minor nitpicks in a story that’s clearly more interested in emotional truth than narrative perfection.

Four stars feels right to me. It’s thoughtful, emotionally grounded, and quietly powerful in the way it explores what family can mean—especially when it’s something you have to build from scratch.

Key Themes

  • Family and sibling relationships
  • Identity and self-acceptance
  • Difference and diversity
  • Love and belonging
  • Forgiveness and reconciliation
  • Secrets and disclosure
  • Resilience and personal growth


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Far from the Tree

 Robin Benway Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Genre: Contemporary Fiction + Young Adult Initial Impressions I’d heard a lot of praise for Far From the Tree ove...