It is big. It is heavy. Honestly, Jeffrey Lent’s 2000 debut, In the Fall, feels like a book that was unearthed from a different century, even though it dropped right at the turn of the millennium. If you haven’t held it, the thing has weight—both literal and emotional. We are talking about a multi-generational saga that starts in the bloody aftermath of the Civil War and doesn't let go until the Great Depression. It’s a story about a Vermont man, Norman Pelham, who goes off to fight for the Union and comes back with a wife, Leah, who is a Black woman he helped escape from a plantation.
That single choice sets off a chain reaction.
Most people expect a simple "star-crossed lovers" narrative. They expect a story about overcoming prejudice in the 1800s. But Lent doesn't do "simple." He writes about the land, the silence of New England winters, and the way secrets ferment like bad cider. You’ve probably seen it on "Best Of" lists for decades, but it never quite got the Cold Mountain level of cinematic fame, which is a shame. It’s better. It's grittier.
Why In the Fall Is Not Your Average Historical Fiction
The book starts with Norman. He’s wounded, he’s tired, and he meets Leah. Their return to his family farm in Vermont is where the real tension begins. You have to remember the context of the time; Vermont was "abolitionist," sure, but it wasn't exactly a post-racial utopia. The silence of Norman's father when they arrive says more than a ten-page monologue ever could.
Lent’s prose is what usually trips people up—or hooks them forever. He writes in these long, winding, Faulkner-esque sentences that feel like a river. Then, he'll hit you with a three-word sentence that feels like a punch to the gut. It’s rhythmic. It’s dense. You can't skim this book. If you try to speed-read In the Fall, you’ll miss the subtle shift in a character's internal monologue that explains why they’re about to ruin their entire life twenty years later.
The structure is unconventional
Instead of a linear "this happened, then that happened" timeline, the book is broken into three massive acts.
- First, we follow Norman and Leah as they build a life on the rocky Vermont soil.
- Then, we jump to their son, Jamie, who is haunted by a restlessness he can't name.
- Finally, we land with the grandson, Foster, who eventually travels south to find the truth about his grandmother’s past.
It’s a detective story wrapped in a family tragedy. Foster isn't looking for a killer; he's looking for the "why" behind his father's suicide. He wants to know what Leah was running from. When he finally gets to the South, the contrast between the cold, stoic North and the humid, violent history of the Virginia tobacco fields is jarring.
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The Secret Nobody Talks About: Leah’s Choice
Leah is the heart of the book, yet for a long time, she is a mystery even to her own husband. This is where Lent gets really nuanced. He avoids the "magical" or "victim" tropes often assigned to Black women in historical fiction written by white authors. Leah is sharp, guarded, and fiercely protective. She knows that her safety in Vermont is a fragile thing.
There is a specific moment—I won't spoil the exact detail—where she realizes that her past isn't just behind her; it’s inside her. It’s in her blood. The book suggests that trauma isn't just a memory. It’s a physical inheritance. This was long before "epigenetics" was a buzzword in lifestyle magazines, but Lent was already exploring how a grandfather's fear becomes a grandson's anxiety.
People often ask if the book is "depressing."
Kinda.
But it’s more "heavy" than "sad." There is a difference. A sad book makes you cry; a heavy book makes you sit in silence for twenty minutes after you close the cover. In the Fall is definitely the latter.
The Vermont Landscape as a Character
You can tell Jeffrey Lent lives in Vermont. The way he describes the "thinning of the light" in October or the specific sound of a shovel hitting frozen earth is too precise to be researched. He knows it. The farm itself—the Pelham homestead—is the only constant in the book.
In the first act, the farm represents a sanctuary. By the third act, it feels more like a trap.
The characters are constantly trying to get away from the mountain, but they always seem to be pulled back. It’s a very New England sentiment: the land owns you, you don’t own the land. This relationship with nature is what gives the book its "timeless" feel. It doesn't feel like a book written in 2000; it feels like it could have been written in 1920 or 1890.
Addressing the Criticisms
Not everyone loves this book. Some critics at the time, and certainly some readers on Goodreads today, find the prose too "dense." They aren't wrong. If you’re used to the fast-paced, dialogue-heavy style of modern thrillers, In the Fall will feel like walking through waist-high snow.
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Also, the transition between the second and third acts is famously polarizing. You spend so much time with Jamie that when Foster takes over the narrative, it feels like a bit of a shock. But that's the point. The generational disconnect is the theme. Foster doesn't know his grandfather's story any better than the reader does at that point. We are learning the family secrets at the same rate he is.
Why You Should Care About In the Fall in 2026
We are currently obsessed with "ancestry" and "finding our roots." Everyone is taking DNA tests to see where they came from. But In the Fall asks a more uncomfortable question: What do you do when you find out your ancestors were monsters? Or victims? Or both?
Foster’s journey to Virginia is a reckoning. He’s a white-passing man discovering a history of slavery and sexual violence that he was never told about. It’s a story about the "great American forgetting." We like to pretend that history is a straight line of progress, but Lent shows it as a messy, overlapping series of circles.
The book deals with:
- The psychological toll of the Civil War on the average soldier.
- The complexities of biracial identity in the post-war North.
- The way economic desperation (The Depression) forces people back to places they swore they'd never return to.
It’s a massive, sprawling achievement.
Actionable Insights for the Modern Reader
If you are planning to pick up In the Fall, here is how to actually get through it and enjoy the experience. This isn't a "beach read."
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Commit to the first 50 pages. Lent has a specific cadence. It takes your brain about an hour to adjust to his sentence structure. Once you "get" the rhythm, the pages start to fly, but those first few chapters are a hurdle. Stick with it.
Don't Google the ending. The "twist" in the third act is one of those revelations that recontextualizes everything you read in the first 200 pages. If you know it ahead of time, the tension of Foster's journey is ruined.
Watch for the weather. Lent uses weather to signal character shifts. When the frost comes early, something bad is about to happen. When the thaw is late, expect a psychological breakdown. It’s a very "show, don't tell" kind of book.
Read it in the autumn. It sounds cliché, but the book is called In the Fall for a reason. There is a specific atmosphere to the writing that pairs perfectly with dying leaves and a cold breeze. It enhances the immersion.
Look for the parallels. Pay attention to how Norman handles his trauma compared to how Jamie handles his. You’ll see the same patterns repeating. It’s a masterclass in character development across time.
This book remains a powerhouse of American literature because it refuses to give easy answers. It doesn't tell you that love conquers all. It doesn't tell you that the "good guys" win. It just tells you that life is hard, the land is indifferent, and the secrets we keep usually end up burying us. If you want a story that stays in your marrow, this is the one.
Grab a physical copy if you can. The weight of it in your hands actually adds to the experience. You feel the gravity of the Pelham family history with every turn of the page. It’s a journey that starts in a Vermont forest and ends in a deep understanding of what it means to be an American, with all the beauty and horror that entails.
Practical Next Steps
- Audit your library: See if your local branch has the original Atlantic Monthly Press hardcover; it’s the best edition.
- Contextualize the history: Briefly refresh your knowledge of the 20th Maine Volunteer Infantry. It makes Norman’s early chapters much more vivid.
- Compare the work: If you’ve read The Overstory or East of Eden, place this book on that same shelf. It shares that "grand scope" DNA.
- Join the discussion: Look for archived book club guides from the early 2000s; the questions raised about Leah’s agency are still being debated by literary scholars today.