Book Review: "While the Getting is Good" is a Heartbreaking But Worthy Read

Set in 1932, at the tail end of Prohibition and in the grip of the Great Depression, While the Getting is Good centers on Eldridge “Eld” Mackay, a Great Lakes fisherman scraping by in Michigan. When an illicit opportunity arises — rum-running whiskey from Canada across Lake Huron — Eld sees a chance to give his family a break. Even his reluctant wife Maggie is persuaded.

But as the narrative unfolds, that gamble spirals out of control: gangland turf wars, broken alliances, and the strain of separation tear the Mackays apart. Eld winds up in Canada on a desperate mission; Maggie and their children are forced to seek refuge in a shadowy religious haven; when and if they reunite, they may be unrecognizable to each other. 

Author Matt Riordan draws partly on family lore. He acknowledges that key plot beats are informed by stories he heard growing up near Lake Huron, but emphasizes that his work is fiction, not memoir.
Riordan does a fine job of immersing the reader in Depression-era Michigan: the cold sweep of Lake Huron, the lean lives of fishermen, the desperation in small towns. The prose is often pared down, almost sparse, which suits characters for whom every day is a fight for survival. That restraint allows the tension to build quietly, and the contrast between what is said (or left unsaid) and what’s implied gives the narrative weight.

Eld and Maggie are not simple heroes or villains — they’re flawed, caught in circumstances that push them toward morally ambiguous choices. Maggie, in particular, emerges as a strong focal point: over half the novel tracks her journey, her resilience, and her transformations under pressure. This applies to secondary characters, too. Whether criminal overlords or fellow smugglers, they are treated with some nuance, not as mere caricatures. 

Once the novel shifts into its high-stakes mode, the momentum carries you along. The stakes rise steadily as Eld is pulled deeper into crime syndicates and Maggie faces threats on multiple fronts. The structural decision to alternate perspectives — switching between Eld’s dangerous gambit and Maggie’s struggle to survive — is bold and gives breadth to the narrative.

That said, the change in narrative focus, from Eld to Maggie and beyond, is powerful in its reach, but it sometimes disrupts the rhythm. Several reviewers note that when the perspective switches, it can feel abrupt, forcing the reader to reorient. Some readers, expecting a sustained dive into the bootlegging underworld, find the “second act” more about displacement and survival than crime intrigue. 

Another reservation is the novel’s ending. It doesn’t tie up every thread neatly and is unresolved (though arguably deliberately so). That ambiguity may frustrate readers who prefer clearer resolution, but it also reinforces the themes of damage, loss, and how much a single decision can alter lives.

To some, Maggie’s arc, particularly some of the leaps she makes to protect her family, stretches plausibility. Likewise, occasionally characters or plot twists veer too magically into narrative convenience, especially later in the book. 

While the Getting is Good is not a light read. It’s hard, morally ambiguous, and often heartbreaking. But for those who lean toward character-driven historical fiction with grit and emotional weight, it delivers. Riordan’s gift is in how he makes the ordinary feel precarious: a fisherman, a wife, a child — all vulnerable to forces beyond their control.

If you're a fan of tales where survival is earned and choices carry heavy costs and are comfortable with a novel that leaves some wounds open rather than bandaged, this is one to pick up. It won’t give fairy-tale justice, just a fierce, weathered portrait of people who tried, but paid dearly.