“Well, you can never really know anyone” uttered Mrs. March. How correct she was…
Mrs. March, wife of George March, celebrated novelist, is completing her daily ritual of buying bread when her pleasant and orderly life is brought to a screeching halt. She finds out that people believe the main character of her husband’s new book is based on her. This is anything but flattering, as the character is a prostitute, and not just that, but one so disgusting that her clients refuse to touch her and pay her out of pity. What could possibly cause comparisons to be drawn between the two, and how could her husband do that to her? How can she show her face about town when everyone knows? This sets Mrs. March into a downward spiral where anxiety manifests itself deeper and deeper into paranoia and delusions.
I’ve seen quite a few comparisons to Highsmith and Hitchcock floating around and I can’t decide if they’re more helpful or harmful. They’re apt; the book does indeed evoke a very similar feel to both, but I feel like perhaps they also got my hopes up a bit too much for this one? That said, this is a DEBUT, and so keeping that in mind, I did find it to be impressive. I am very much looking forward to seeing Elisabeth Moss bring this character to life. I shall watch it while enjoying some nicely toasted olive bread…
The portrayal of Mrs. March as she descends into madness is fantastic. I can’t speak for anyone else who suffers from anxiety, but I found a lot of myself in parts of her (hello avoiding someone forever based on one awkward social interaction), which made her feel very real. This wasn’t the cheap, exploitative usage of mental health issues that so many suspense books rely on lately where symptoms seem to exist solely to conveniently help along the plot. Her mental health *is* the plot, so just be aware of that going in, as I know it can be triggering for some to read about and/or some people will just find it very upsetting to find themselves inside Mrs. March’s head.
On the less positive side, the (in my opinion extremely heavy-handed) narrative technique of only referring to the narrator as Mrs. March, and the "resolution" of this underwhelmed me, I have to say. It felt very tell versus show to me, and I didn't feel the rest of the book supported the character feeling so wrapped up in her husband's identity. She felt very unmoored and placed far too much emphasis on others' opinions opinions of her, but it felt to me like a woman with no identity moreso than anything else. To discuss it further would spoil the book for a new reader, but while I believe I understand the author’s intention with it, it did not have the desired impact for me. Other reviewers do seem to disagree on this point however.
Ultimately, I just came away from this wanting more. I’m absolutely fine with ambiguity surrounding Mrs. March and what was actually really happening versus what was a delusion. However I wasn’t a fan of these little tidbits that clearly were grounded in reality that would get thrown out there, piquing the reader’s curiosity, never to be addressed. I’ve criticized books before for basically spoon-feeding the reader, but this went a bit too far toward the other extreme, at least for me.
3.5, rounded up because it's a debut.
A note about the time period: I’ll be very curious to see when the film decides to set this. I think (?) it’s written to be deliberately ambiguous, but unless there are simply anachronistic mistakes (dental veneers and Ralph Lauren wallpaper, I’m looking at you), it has to be mid 80s at the earliest. If it is indeed set in the 80s or 90s, it certainly makes Mrs. March’s formality, which reeks of a bygone era, all the more unsettling.