Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, Gabrielle Zevin

This is a tough one to review. It was really hard to read and process Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow without the incredibly high hype and near-universal praise drumming in the background the entire time. On top of that, starting this book the same week of the 2024 U.S. presidential election proved incredibly distracting. Putting the distractions aside, I definitely enjoyed this book and think it’s safe to say it is very good.

The premise is incredible. A modern coming-of-age story of love and friendship set against the backdrop of video games is an awesomely cool idea. As a lifelong gamer, watching Sam and Sadie forge their friendship as children through a shared love of games was deeply relatable, and Gabrielle Zevin did a fantastic job capturing the ways in which games and play can forge deep connections between people who may often feel awkward, excluded, or shy in social situations (for any number of reasons). Similarly, Zevin did not shy away from the dark side of the gaming world in her depictions of the tension between creative vision and capitalism; sexual perversion; sexism; and violence.

Zevin’s characters are the beating heart of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. Sam, Sadie, and Marx are as formidable a trio of young protagonists as any (even if they are not always likeable, and I sometimes wanted to slap them around for their stubbornness and emotional fragility). Marx’s character arc in particular was fantastic and gripping. The supporting characters are also quite strong. Sam’s grandparents, in particular are fantastic and their love for their grandson was genuinely heart-warming.

All that said, I think there are a few things that really held this book back from being truly great, and they tended to be distractions in one way or another. The biggest negatives for me in this regard were the numerous side plots (dare I say, “mini games”) that padded out this novel from beginning to end. The flashbacks to Sam’s childhood with his mother in New York City and the whole “Anna Lee” narrative went nowhere beyond a very heavy-handed opportunity to remind readers that immigrant women have it really hard in America. Does this have anything to do with this story, not really. The Dov side plot certainly created an interesting moral dilemma, but it just kept dragging on and on. Finally, while video games are absolutely an outlet for marginalized groups and counter-cultural experiences, Zevin once again went so heavy-handed and excessive with gender politics; so much so that in 2024 this book already feels dated in the late-2010s/early 2020s wave of identity politics activism and virtue signalling for commercial success and cultural capital. In these and many other narrative threads and inclusions, I found myself wondering, “okay, and so what?”

Overall, I definitely enjoyed Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. Would I say it’s my favorite read of the year? Not even close. Do I think it’s a bit over-hyped? Yes. But it’s still a really great, moving, and genuinely creative novel that I think anyone who loves games, or has very complicated relationships to even their closest friends and loved ones will relate to on some level.