THE THINGS WE CANNOT SAY - BOOK REVIEW

Title: The Things We Cannot Say

Author: Kelly Rimmer

Format: Paperback | Audio Book | E-Book

Pages: 416

Length: 13h42m

Published: 19 March 2019

Publisher: Graydon House Books

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐⭐

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Have you ever gotten so consumed by a novel that you simultaneously want to reach the finish line to find out what happens, while just wanting to put it down so it never actually has to end? I manage to find myself in this predicament far too often—especially with historical fiction. But The Things We Cannot Say didn’t just place me in that limbo—it held me there. Captivated, wrecked, and utterly enthralled.

This book was everything I hoped it would be and more. And I don’t say that lightly.

I actually received this book a little ahead of public release, though I hadn’t expected to. At the beginning of 2019, I’d made a very lofty promise to myself that I wouldn’t add to my already teetering TBR pile. So when I passed on preordering this book, it felt like a personal victory—one that lasted all of three months. One casual Indigo trip with a friend (read: a certified enabler) later, and I left the store with five new books clutched like a newborn in my arms. But the real shock came when I returned home to find a package from Graydon House Books waiting for me—and inside it, an ARC of The Things We Cannot Say. I quite literally squealed. My dog looked at me like I’d lost it.

Twenty-five minutes later, I’d shelved the buddy read I was in the middle of and dove in, unapologetically. I knew Rimmer could deliver emotional devastation—Before I Let You Go had wrecked me in one sitting—but this was a different kind of storytelling. It felt layered, patient, rich with heartbreak and resilience. I gave myself 48 hours to finish, but only because I needed moments to breathe. And still, I devoured it.

The story alternates between Alina, a young woman living through Nazi-occupied Poland in the 1940s, and Alice, a modern-day mother navigating a life full of unspoken struggles—raising a non-verbal autistic son, managing a strained marriage, and suddenly unearthing her grandmother’s secret past. Both narratives are deeply moving, but together they create something exceptional. There’s history, yes. But there’s also legacy, language, memory, and what we pass down without even realising it.

Alina’s chapters are suffused with fear and longing, but never without strength. Her love story is powerful, but it’s her courage that lingers. Alice, on the other hand, is a brilliant portrayal of what it means to feel pulled in every direction and still somehow keep going. She’s messy, fierce, and painfully human. Rimmer doesn’t just write women—she understands them. Their flaws. Their fire. Their silence.

There’s a particular turning point in the book where everything pivots—and I felt it physically. I paused. Not because I wanted to stop, but because I wanted to savour what was left. It’s not often that I beg a story to linger. I usually race to the end. But here, I wanted time to freeze. That’s how much I loved it.

If I had one tiny critique—and truly, it’s nitpicking—it’s that a couple of plot turns tied together a little too smoothly. But even that felt forgivable in the grander emotional landscape Rimmer crafts. This book isn’t about the twist. It’s about the truth. And sometimes, the truth is quiet and slow and devastating.

The Things We Cannot Say is a novel that will sit heavy in your heart and stay there. It’s about the things we carry, the words we bury, and the people we become because of what we choose not to say. And in Rimmer’s hands, those silences are deafening—and beautiful.

This was more than just a five-star read for me. It was a reminder of why I read in the first place.