By Jenna Massey
Brian Castleberry’s sophomore novel, The Californians (Mariner Books, 2025), begins with the voice of Tobey Harlan—a disillusioned, directionless dropout whose life has just been transformed by a devastating California wildfire. As he looks to pick up the pieces of what was already a flimsy existence, Tobey finds himself drawn to a get-rich-quick scheme mired in familial drama: the theft and sale of three paintings by the artist Di Stiegl from the walls of his father’s house. After thirty-odd pages of The Californians, the wobbly freneticism of Tobey’s narration eases into Di’s gentler—though equally troubled—perspective, and we watch the artist come of age and into success in 1980s New York. Stiegl’s grandfather Klaus, a German immigrant who became one of the most renowned directors of the silent era, provides the novel’s third perspective.
Framing the chapters are interstitial news articles, letters, and other forms of communication, each demonstrating Castleberry’s flair for slipping into the voice of a particular American era. The worlds he supplements with these interstitial pieces are vivid and lived-in—particularly Di Stiegl’s New York, which is reminiscent of Patti Smith’s bohemian portrait of the city in Just Kids.
Di and Klaus’s perspectives comprise the bulk of The Californians’ central 300 pages, but Tobey’s narration feels most illustrative of the novel’s political themes. Though it is a wildfire that ultimately forces Tobey to start anew, he is no stranger to living adrift. Shortly before the fire, prospectless and seeking an escape from a world “gone mad,” he made plans to move to a utopian commune with his girlfriend of less than a year. His girlfriend was invited to join the community; Tobey was not. His rejection from the commune reflects The Californians’ larger vision of America as a land of broken promises and seemingly nonsensical bestowals of success. His scheme to steal and sell the paintings feels like a logical product of the uniquely American corruption haunting the novel: the topical inciting incident, the wealth of the “tech bros” Tobey loathes, and the Reagan-era politics that threaten Di’s inner circle.
The Californians is not a casual read. The perspective shifts between Klaus and Di just as the reader settles into their respective worlds, and many of the elements that unite the stories require a keen memory to grasp in their entirety. Much like the tragedies and grand personalities depicted in The Californians, the construction of the novel itself demands readers’ attention. But it is the demand of the reader’s attention on the dreamers, art, and pain of Castleberry’s America that makes the book particularly relevant right now.
Propelled by Castleberry’s skillful hand and contemporary voice, The Californians probes at the generations-old grapple between art and wealth in America, interrogating how we strive to make meaning amid perpetual unrest.
The Californians will be available for purchase on March 11, 2025.
