On July 8, 2025, celebrated author Gary Shteyngart released his sixth novel, Vera, or Faith, a satirical yet emotionally resonant dystopian coming‑of‑age story. In a near‑future America teetering on the brink of authoritarian collapse, the narrative unfolds through the eyes of ten‑year‑old Vera Bradford‑Shmulkin, a Korean‑American girl whose life is intertwined with political upheaval, family tension, and the search for identity. Within days, the book had earned widespread critical acclaim.
Set in Manhattan, the novel introduces Vera, an anxious, intellectually curious child caught between her Russian‑Jewish immigrant father Igor, a struggling magazine editor, and her WASP‑heritage stepmother, known as “Anne Mom.” Living in a family strained by diverging beliefs and looming divorce, Vera also yearns to learn about her biological mother—“Mom Mom”—a Korean American she never knew.
Shteyngart’s decision to channel the story through a child’s perspective is a departure from previous works like Super Sad True Love Story and Lake Success. Yet critics say it is a choice that pays off, grounding the political satire in authentic emotional stakes. “Vera, or Faith is a family drama set in an America on a slow slide toward totalitarianism, written with his distinctive blend of buoyant satire and bruise‑your‑heart poignancy,” observes WBUR critic Carol Iaciofano Aucoin. The simplicity of Vera’s viewpoint gives sobering clarity to societal anxieties, as Amanda Suzanne Perez writes: “It’s smart and sad and funny and disturbing.”
At the center of the political plot is the “Five‑Three Amendment,” a constitutional proposal granting 1⅔ votes to “exceptional Americans” — those descended from white settlers unburdened by enslavement — while leaving multiracial, immigrant children like Vera to debate in favor of their own disenfranchisement. The absurdity of Vera campaigning for a system that diminishes her agency exposes both the surreal and chilling nature of incremental authoritarianism.
Critical praise has been effusive. The New York Times review, headlined “The Future Looks Dark, but Familiar,” compares Vera, or Faith to Nabokov’s Ada, or Ardor, noting shared motifs such as bow ties, taboos, and communication breakdowns. The Washington Post calls it “a sardonic tragicomedy about an anxiety‑ridden little girl on a quest to uncover where she really came from,” underscoring the intimate scale of its spectacle.
The Los Angeles Times labels it “a must‑read,” while BookPage (starred) declares Shteyngart “one of the best comedians in literature today,” lauding his capacity to combine humor and emotional insight. Kirkus Reviews echoes this sentiment, calling it “a brilliant fable about childhood, and so much more, in our broken country.”
Beyond critical buzz, Vera, or Faith already finds itself included in numerous “most anticipated” and “summer reading” lists, from The New York Times, Time, and The Washington Post to The Boston Globe, Town & Country, and the Minneapolis Star‑Tribune. One reader comment in the Minnesota Star‑Tribune sums up the appeal: “You will almost certainly be laughing out loud… And at the end of the day, the book is about realizing you may not actually have to do everything you think you have to do, because you are already loved.”
Underlying the satire is a personal strand to the storytelling. Born in Leningrad in 1972 and immigrating to the U.S. at age seven, Shteyngart—like his protagonist—has an immigrant’s fraught relationship with the idea of authoritarianism. An accompanying Guardian essay reflects on parallels between Soviet-era repression and the fictionalized “Trumpistan” backdrop in Vera, or Faith, concluding that modern America’s trajectory isn’t so distant from historical precedents. Through Vera, Shteyngart revisits themes from his earlier work while demonstrating emotional maturity: as Marion Winik notes, “Readers who have been following him since ‘The Russian Debutante’s Handbook’… will agree. More heart, but as funny as ever.”
The book runs about 256 pages, each with a chapter titled with a reflection of Vera’s internal to-do list—“She Had to Survive Recess,” “She Had to Hold the Family Together”—capturing the swirl of childhood anxieties. The novel also features vivid technological touches—Vera’s AI chessboard, Kaspie, and a self-driving car, Stella, both of which mirror the encroachment of surveillance culture and corporate control even in domestic life.
Shteyngart’s writing process for Vera, or Faith took some unexpected turns. As revealed in a Publishers Weekly profile, during development he pivoted from a failed spy thriller into this deeply personal fable after a life‑changing sushi lunch on a long flight. The result is not just satire but an intimate window into a child’s mind—a strategy that arguably heightens the reader’s emotional engagement.
Looking ahead, Vera, or Faith may mark a watershed in Shteyngart’s career. With its emotional gravity, it stakes a claim for relevance in a time of rising authoritarianism, identity politics, and technology’s role in daily life. Already nominated for summer literary prizes and gathering momentum among book clubs, it appears poised to leave an enduring mark.
In an era when dystopian satire often remains abstract, Vera, or Faith takes the bold step of descending into the personal and familial. Critics and readers alike find that it resonates on both levels—political and intimate—offering a timely reflection on what it means for a child to grow up in a democracy unraveling.