Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage — Book Review

Right on the heels of White Noise, this audiobook felt like a sharp pivot—and a welcome one. Strangers: A Memoir of Marriage by Belle Burden surfaced in my New York Times feed, and I bought it the same day. Burden reads the audiobook herself, and that choice matters: the listening experience is intimate, alive, and layered with nuance in a way the page alone might not fully capture.

Her life is undeniably privileged—that’s unavoidable—but it doesn’t make the book any less engaging. What holds your attention is watching Belle repeatedly give her power away, hoping things will resolve themselves. It’s excruciating in the most honest way. I never skipped ahead to see how the divorce settlement turned out. I stayed with her as she carried us through the uncertainty, the self-questioning, and the slow, painful journey toward resolution.

The book began as an essay for the New York Times Modern Love section (not usually my genre), but from that seed grew something far more compelling. This is a story of love and loss—and, unexpectedly, a bit of a thriller. There’s tension and forward motion, even though the stakes are emotional and legal rather than dramatic.

What surprised me most was how much I learned about how to be a better friend to someone going through the dissolution of a marriage. I’ll be kinder, more patient, and less eager for tidy explanations the next time I witness that kind of rupture.

Burden understands pacing. The structure is precise, with themes weaving in and out like a carefully constructed tapestry. As a lawyer educated at NYU and Harvard, she clearly knows how to build a case—but credentials alone don’t make a story sing. That comes from honesty. She is generous in exposing her own failings and her role in the unraveling, resisting the urge to turn her ex (a thinly veiled Henry David type) into a caricature villain. We never get his version—and that’s intentional. This is the story of the person left behind, trying to piece together a new life.

I’m glad Belle chose to go through the trauma rather than around it. This isn’t a scorched-earth divorce memoir. It’s a mystery—about marriage, about identity, and about how well we ever truly know the person we choose.

Every marriage is a mystery. I remember hearing that around the time my first marriage was falling apart. There was infidelity, dishonesty, and a lingering sense that I never got the full story. Our divorce was logistically simple—no kids, equal incomes—but emotionally, it was anything but. Sorting feelings is often harder than sorting assets.

For that honesty alone, this book matters.