Laura Donovan's Reviews > Small World

At its heart, this is a story about family, feeling unseen and unheard, secrecy, and life in the aftermath of trauma. It’s all so rich and meaningful. But the surface plot about noise pollution resonated most significantly with me.

I once lived in a townhome attached to another townhome owned by someone I felt was ruining my life. I moved with my husband and new baby from downtown LA to suburban Pasadena, hoping for a quieter life. I had no idea that the new owners of the place attached to ours would be gutting and renovating their residence for months on end, all day every day. The noise this created was punishing, squandering all of my energy and happiness. This was pre-pandemic and during a bad season of El Niño. The noise next door was constant. Inescapable, life ruining, absolutely disruptive to my son’s ability to sleep and grow, and my ability to enjoy my home. Our walls rattled, mounted photo frames fell off their hooks, we couldn’t even watch TV or listen to music or do anything comfortably. Once you detect a noise that bothers you, it is impossible to ignore no matter how many sound machines you buy, or the quality of your noise canceling headphones. I felt like no one cared about me or the stress it caused. It made me feel alone and crazy. Noise pollution has been proven to bring about severe psychological damage. People with no previous criminal record have killed others over noise disturbances. I believe there is almost nothing worse than noise pollution. What I experienced was terrible in so many ways, but also because I felt isolated and alone in my new home that I’d looked forward to living in. The new life I had in mind looked nothing like I’d imagined because of my neighbors. My husband and others worked all day so the noise didn’t impact them. It felt like I was the only one suffering from the constant drilling right into our walls. I became obsessive. All I could think and talk about was the noise. I was rabid. I even started pounding on and kicking the walls, blasting loud annoying music to spite them. I had visions of pelting them with my son’s diapers. I went insane. I was not my best self. But there was nothing anyone could do about it.

This is a long winded way of saying that Laura Zigman’s book spoke directly to me. It is my favorite novel of 2023 so far. It speaks to the subtle but damaging tension between neighbors, the ways others manipulate those with legitimate complaints into thinking they’re the problem, and what it means to be a good neighbor. Joyce has moved into a small apartment following her divorce and just wants to process it all in peace. Her newly divorced sister moves in with her, and all is well until a new set of neighbors moves upstairs and makes Joyce’s life a living hell with constant noise from her wellness studio, the irony being that it helps everyone but Joyce, whose wellbeing suffers dramatically. The studio owner, Sonia, is an exploitative cultlike figure who draws everyone else in but pokes at Joyce’s insecurities to gaslight Joyce into feeling like she’s the one with the problem. No one else shares Joyce’s rage. I felt that so much. She does obsess, just as I did, but it’s very challenging to feel like your home does not belong to you because of a neighbor’s choices. The awkwardness in this story perfectly illustrates difficult conversations many of us find ourselves needing to have with our community. The tension, the feelings of being put out and misunderstood, I have never felt so seen. Thank you Laura Zigman.