I started this book fairly excited for it, but, in the end, felt somewhat let down. Maybe it was built up too much for me?
The protagonist in Dancing in the Dark, Edna, is a woman who has very few interests or ambitions beyond ensuring that things are in perfect order - and about that, she is obsessive. She doesn't really know herself, except she wants love and affection from a man, and ergo, when she meets the first guy who shows her any interest, she is immediately taken by him, and conforms her self to satisfy his needs. We are told this, from her perspective, in far less blunt terms (and she may or may not be an honest narrator - but she doesn't contradict herself, so I assume she is meant to be honest, but, of course, biased).
The story, told via her notebooks, now that she is in an asylum, after murdering her husband upon the discovery of his affair (this is not a spoiler - it is one of the first things we learn from her), is an exploration of her character and her feelings.
I think this book's underlying message is that her lack of emotional needs and obsessive cleanliness made her the perfect housewife, but that those same qualities were what led her to react so extremely to her husband's affair.
I can't say I particularly empathized with her husband (I didn't think he deserved to be murdered for an affair, obviously, but he's a pretty shitty partner throughout), but I did want a little more exploration of his character, oddly. I think there's something to be said about how attracted he was to a woman who was essentially his blank slate, and his ensuing boredom with her. His feelings on women, and behavior towards women could be flushed out.
While I did empathize with Edna, I found it bit difficult to do so, particularly, because beyond her preoccupation with ensuring that she keeps everything in perfect order (nothing out of place, everything in up to date styles), there is very little build up or suggestion that she could have such violence within her. Despite having her perspective, there wasn't really enough interior life to her for me to fully empathize with her. Furthermore, while I think the exploration of mental health is important and vital in literature, I'm not sure this book does enough to explain what happens to her.
Edna did remind me a little of other characters, such as Edna, from The Awakening and also Beth, before she leaves her husband, in Small Changes, although they react to their existential despair in their own ways. (How does a desperate literary housewife escape her marriage?)