The discovery of a secret garden with unknown powers fuels this page-turning and psychologically thrilling tale of women desperate to become mothers and the ways the female body has always been policed and manipulated, from the award-winning author of The Illness Lesson.
In 1948, Irene Willard, who’s had five previous miscarriages in a quest to give her beloved husband the child he desperately desires and is now pregnant again, comes to an isolated house-cum-hospital in the Berkshires, run by a husband-and-wife team of doctors who are pioneering a cure for her condition. Warily, she enlists herself in the efforts of the Doctors Hall to “rectify the maternal environment,” both physical and psychological. In the meantime, she also discovers a long-forgotten walled garden on the spacious grounds, a place imbued with its own powers and pulls. As the doctors’ plans begin to crumble, Irene and her fellow patients make a desperate bid to harness the power of the garden for themselves—and must face the incalculable risks associated with such incalculable rewards.
With shades of Shirley Jackson and Rosemary's Baby, The Garden delves into the territory of motherhood, childbirth, the mysteries of the female body, and the ways it has always been controlled and corralled.
Clare Beams’s novel The Illness Lesson, published in February of 2020 by Doubleday, was named a New York Times Editors’ Choice, a best book of 2020 by Esquire and Bustle, and a best book of February by Time, O Magazine, and Entertainment Weekly; it has been longlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize. Her story collection, We Show What We Have Learned, was published by Lookout Books in 2016; it won the Bard Fiction Prize, was longlisted for the Story Prize, and was a Kirkus Best Debut of 2016, as well as a finalist for the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize, the New York Public Library’s Young Lions Fiction Award, and the Shirley Jackson Award. A new novel, The Garden, will be published by Doubleday in 2023. Her fiction appears in One Story, n+1, Ecotone, The Common, the Kenyon Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading, and The Best American Nonrequired Reading, and has received special mention in The Best American Short Stories 2013 and The Pushcart Prize XXXV. She has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference, the Sewanee Writers' Conference, and the Sustainable Arts Foundation. After teaching high school English for six years in Falmouth, Massachusetts, she moved to Pittsburgh, where she now lives with her husband and two daughters. She has taught creative writing at Carnegie Mellon University and St. Vincent College.
i feel paradoxical about this book. i liked it; i hated it. it was a quick read; it took forever to finish. i enjoy the feminist qualities of the text; the ending ruins any and all meaning within. i have nothing of value to say about this novel. it was incredibly frustrating and the writing was very plain. i didn't have a good sense of place nor atmosphere. and i sure as hell didn't care about any of the characters. the most compelling thing about this novel is the recurring image of a bloodied mouse.
thank you to netgalley and the publisher for an arc in exchange for an honest review.
The Garden is yet another one of those reads where if I don’t think too hard on it, I can say I really liked it. It’s not until my mind starts to examine it that I realize Clare Beams didn’t quite pull the book off.
There seems to be a new subgenre in horror that’s evolved over the last few years – horror surrounding pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood. Beams’ latest book falls in this category, though the horror is more psychological than traditional fare. The story is set in 1948, at a private hospital where pregnant women who are prone to miscarry go to have their babies. The doctors promise a safe cure for miscarriage and that, under their care, a healthy baby will be born. The doctors are creepy, and there’s also a creepy garden involved that may or may not have supernatural powers.
The book is engrossing and a quick read, what with Beams’ loose and laid-back writing style, and I enjoyed being in the mind of Irene, a pregnant woman at the hospital. She’s a bit of a pill – she doesn’t like people much and has a cruel tongue – yet her caustic personality works well as the voice of the story. I found her interesting, too, because I was unsure as to how much she even wanted a baby. She never refers to her child as the baby, instead calling it the weight and other various names, all of which are relevant to the story but seem to distance herself from what is happening to her body.
The end is where the book falters. Beams doesn’t quite bring it together in a satisfying way, and she leaves some of the supernatural elements dangling so much I was left wondering what was the point of it all. I also think she could’ve used the story to say a lot more than she did about how the female body has always been a vessel of control for men and the government. It’s somewhat there in the pages, but I wanted a deeper dive into it, not a hollow, surface-only look.
My sincerest appreciation to Clare Beams, Doubleday, and NetGalley for the digital review copy. All opinions included herein are my own.
A lot of good pieces here, whether it works for you will depend on how much you get along with Beams' loose style here. The prose and the plot are both floating through the story. For me, they weren't always effective, sometimes I felt too much like I was getting pulled out of what was happening instead of diving in.
I've shelved this as Horror but that doesn't feel right. It has elements, certainly. The isolation, the dread, the creepy doctors, these are certainly horror things. And yet despite the trappings the mood never felt like horror to me, more like surrealism in literary fiction. Perhaps it's because the scariest thing here is the possibility of miscarriage, a thing so sad that it is hard to summon the kind of fear or dread associated with horror. Pregnancy, of course, is ripe for all kinds of horror. It is itself a kind of body horror experience. But because Beams' story is so wrapped up in the losses of infertility none of these things feel like horror somehow. I am not sure if it is the subject or if it is the way Beams writes it.
I liked a lot of this, the supernatural parts of the story were the best. When we got back to reality it always felt like a bit of a let down for me.
I really didn't vibe with Irene, she felt flat and one tone. The story wasn't bad but it also wasn't particularly memorable since it was rather hard to get invested in anything she did.
Excellent creep-fest of a book with a vibe and storyline I hadn't seen before.
Irene Willard, who very much wants to start a family, has suffered a series of miscarriages, so she goes off -willingly - for a several-month stay at an institution known for helping women with this problem. The time period is 1948; locale: the Berkshires, western Massacusetts, USA. The doctors here are kind, helpful and nice. The other women, suffering from similar problems are all sort of 'vanilla-ish.' Middle-to upper income white women, all sort of bland; Irene doesn't like any of them. Neither does she like the doctors - husband and wife team - or much of anything about the institution. (She's not a joiner, doesn't like groups, clubs, etc.) But she's here because it's a last attempt at having what she, and her beloved husband George, really want. Family, children, all of that.
The insitution is an old house, refurbished to be hospital-like, but it's large and comfortable, if a bit dark in places. Wide green lawns, lovely woods in the distance, and a walled-in garden which intrigues and interests Irene. No one is shut up, yelled at, or mistreated here - it's all lovingly bland, quiet and calm. Not your typical 'scary story' to be sure!
But even though Irene desperately wants a safe pregnancy and healthy baby, she carries this tale on her back like a heavy weight. She's determined to question everything and everyone and is the blunt knife that can still cut and scratch. (Yeah, she's openly, unflinchingly honest with everyone!) Despite this, she does make two women friends, both of whom are hopeful that their pregnancies will also be successful.
There's so much more to this book, but to describe it here: spoilersville. Suffice to say, as difficult as Irene is, I was rooting for her on every page. I made up a cheer: "Go, Irene, go!" Yeah, lame as that is, I muttered it about 100X while reading...
3.5 stars that I'm rounding down mainly because I liked The Illness Lesson more, so I want to distinguish them.
This is the story of Irene, a woman who has had multiple miscarriages, attempting a new treatment program at this special retreat. Not much time passes before Irene comes across a garden with odd powers that she and a couple other women contemplate using for themselves. It's set in the 1940s, but I wouldn't say it feels especially of that time. Based on the acknowledgements, it's set in the 1940s in order to be contemporary with a real experimental drug treatment for miscarriages.
Like The Illness Lesson, it's a slow burn of quiet drama. The vibes are similar, and I'm pleased that Beams is continuing in this kind of storytelling and tone. However, unlike The Illness Lesson, this story has more definitive weirdness going on. Or the weirdness is explored much more thoroughly. You could call this story surreal or magical realism, I think. Or you could say it's all made up and these ladies are cray.
My main struggle with this book was that it had a few too many elements at play. There's a whole chunk of the story that relates to Dr. Bishop and her past, especially her grandfather. It felt completely unnecessary to me. It muddled the story and never seemed to matter much. I'm guessing that because the story was inspired by real doctors with a real treatment, Beams wanted to flesh out the doctors more in her book. But for me it just felt too disconnected to warrant its presence in the story and ultimately inconsequential. I have great love and appreciation for a focused, precise story, and this one missed the mark.
Irene was a frustrating but engaging protagonist. She was so antagonistic right from the start, which didn't really make sense if she chose to be in this program. But she's clearly bitter about needing the program (naturally), and she just can't help herself. I wouldn't say she grows at all over the course of the story - she just gains friends in spite of herself. ;)
I loved the decision the 3 women were weighing at the end. I loved the turn the story took in the last few chapters. The concluding bit was really strong and intense after a repetitive/draggy middle.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.
This book was absolutely creepy and dealt with so many triggering topics for myself and others, I'm sure. The story features pregnancy, miscarriage, stillbirth, maternal death,animal death, and reanimation. That needs to be said first and gotten out of the way before I talk about my opinions.
I enjoyed many aspects of this book. The half seen reanimated animals, and the glimpses of the house's past were creepy and a great addition. This story seemed to have good bones but wasn't completely fleshed out. The characters outside of Irene were a little one-dimensional, and Irene herself wasn't very likable at all. It's understandable that she would be bitter and angry, but her antagonistic nature was off-putting.
Ultimately, this book had a ton of potential but left so many unanswered questions. Because of this, I'm giving it 3.5 stars rounded up to 4.
I received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions expressed in this review are my own.
Imagine "Pet Sematary" revamped into a modern, cringeworthy version that lacks depth and substance.
The story build is practically nonexistent, failing to create any sense of anticipation. Instead, the narrative is bogged down with useless details. The dynamic between the characters is both confusing and overly simplistic, while the characters themselves are incredibly flat, making it impossible to connect with them or care about their fates. The attempt to infuse feminism into the story fails by merely giving the main character a more explosive and independent personality.
This might be the first book that tempted me to put it down right after the first chapter. I tried to continue, thinking I might be too pretentious, and genuinely wanted to give it another chance. I regret not trusting my instincts and abandoning the book after that very first chapter. Overall, it was a tedious and pesky read that fell far short of its potential.
loved this! takes a similar jumping-off point as The Illness Lesson, and it is thematically somewhat similar, but still feels vivid and fresh. it's lovely to feel the hill house influence from page one. motherhood-horror stories are a hit and miss with me sometimes, but this one was great, and clare beams' writing is so so wonderful on a sentence level. sits next to The Upstairs House in my mental bookshelf.
The Garden is a slow building, quiet horror novel that takes place in the late 1940s. The story centers on Irene, a woman with multiple miscarriages in her past who has chosen, along with her husband, to stay in a hospital for pregnant women where she will receive specially tailored care with the goal of having a successful pregnancy and delivery. While there, Irene befriends two women, Margaret and Pearl, and the three of them find themselves drawn deeply into the garden among the estates and find there may be a dark and magical property within the grounds.
As Irene focuses on her infatuation with the garden, she witnesses some odd occurrences and begins to see strange apparitions around the property. Irene begins to suspect there is something more to their "treatments" than the doctors are letting on - the shots, the constant pressure to "rest", etc.
I don't think this book will work for everyone because, as I mentioned, it is very slow and very subtle. There is not a lot of horror, or a lot of anything really. However, I found myself drawn to the story by the flowy, dreamlike writing and the isolated setting. The hospital where the women reside is an old family home, and the facility is run by married doctors with an odd relationship. We learn there are many hidden hands at play, but aside from the two doctors, we only see one receptionist, and one groundskeeper throughout, adding to the strange secluded atmosphere. The tone stays somber and mysterious from beginning to end, which I enjoyed as well.
This book is also about Diethylstilbestrol (DES), which is a drug that was given to many pregnant women between the 1940s and 1970s which was later found to have many adverse effects, not only for the women it was given to, but their children and sometimes grandchildren as well. I just thought this was an interesting bit of information and definitely ties into the story & messaging.
There was a subtle feminist undertone to the story, and part of me wishes the author chose to explore that a bit more. I think some commentary on bodily autonomy, and the expectations of women (especially during this time period) would have fit nicely into the narrative.
Overall, I enjoyed this one, but it does feel like it is lacking in some areas.
I am so thankful to Doubleday Books, Clare Beams, and PRH Audio for the #free audiobook (#PRHPartner) and the physical ARC before this one hits shelves on April 9, 2024. This is a true "F the Patriarchy" book, and I was here for all the women standing up for and with each other during this book.
Irene can't seem to bring her pregnancy to term, so she gets shipped off to a home that promises miraculous results for its expecting tenants, including a happy and healthy baby ready to take home after delivery. While Irene is skeptical of these claims, several of her "roommates" are on board with the procedures and injections they face and are "drinking the Kool-Aid."
Irene and her somewhat friends discover a secret and lustrous garden behind the grounds that seems to have rehabilitative abilities, and not just for its gardeners, but its dead and dying rodents and insects. Irene begins to wonder if these dead, gone, and resurrected souls have something to do with the success of the expecting mothers' deliveries -- that maybe the garden gives and takes life in mysterious ways... The women are brighter than they think as they lose one of their friends to childbirth and the surviving soon-to-be mothers begin to fear for their own wombs.
The Garden is giving so many Rosemary's Baby vibes and I was HERE for it. I can't wait for this one to come out so I can talk more and hypothesize further.
THE GARDEN hooked me right away with its gothic, haunted-house vibes and kept its grip on my heart.
The story follows Irene, who is taken to a large estate where two married doctors are running an experimental medical program to help women have healthy babies.
Irene has had multiple miscarriages, and this trauma haunts her as she struggles to cope with the strangeness of the house, her prolonged isolation from society, the proximity of the other patients, their collective fears, the unyielding doctors, and a garden that may have unnatural powers.
Beams plunges us into themes that resonate in the modern psyche, and I loved her exploration of doppelgängers, ghosts, the liminal spaces between life and not-life, social expectations on women, the pressures of motherhood, the terrible beauty of nature, and the flexible ethics of those who are desperate to achieve their desired ends.
The writing is dreamy and the plot is insidious, with danger accumulating for Irene like weeds slowly corrupting a peaceful garden. Fans of Shirley Jackson will love this book!
(This review is based on an advanced reader’s copy provided by NetGalley.)
The first third or so is excellent. The tone is somber, the writing is evocative, the setting is isolated, and most women will understand the anxiety and pain of what the characters are going through.
It loses its way after the set-up, however, and never fully regains its urgency or depth of feeling. I really wish this had gone through a couple more rounds of edits to punch up the plot, enrich the character arcs, and more fully explore the fraught themes presented. This promises to take you to a devastating place, but leaves you a few stops short of that experience.
Categorizing this is difficult, too, it’s sort of a dystopian set-up but it’s supposed to take place in the forties—but it doesn’t really feel of that time period, either. And it approaches The Yellow Wallpaper-type psychological horror, but abandons that far too quickly.
Trigger warnings, obviously, for difficult pregnancy, childbirth, and loss.
Audio Notes: Narrator sets the tone very well with her delivery.
This one is a slow-burn but it was entertaining nonetheless. I would describe it as a gothic with a touch of magical realism. These women are seeking treatment at this house in the hopes of finally being able to have a baby. Of course, the treatments are dubious and the doctor’s aren’t exactly forthcoming. And then there’s some sinister things happening in the garden.
Our main character is prickly and has a bit of mean streak, but she was also relatable. I appreciated how she asked questions and challenged the doctors. Also, George seems like the perfect husband and I’m glad she was able to find a man who understands her and suits her. The story did drag for me at certain parts, but overall, I enjoyed this book.
This was not what I was expecting, tho I'm not sure what is expected as I went in blind. I feel like I have some questions about the end, left with too much to think about. Overall it was a quick read and kept my attention.
After a series of miscarriages, Irene moves into a house overseen by husband and wife doctors who run a program for pregnant women who have experienced multiple losses. Reluctant to buy into this experimental program, Irene stumbles upon a secret garden on the property with mysterious powers that can potentially safeguard what the women so desperately desire.
I struggled with rating this but ultimately my strong, persistent dislike of the main character knocked this down one star for me. Such a nasty, unpleasant, vile woman put next to a bunch of underdeveloped side characters and I just couldn’t muster up any kind of investment in the outcome.
I thought the eeriness of the setting was conveyed well but it didn’t feel particularly well-grounded in its era. I don’t think I could’ve guessed what decade it took place in without explicitly being told. The mystery of the garden wasn’t fully fleshed out and I felt the conclusion was lacking in punch.
Overall, while I commend the unsettling feeling the author was able to get across, there was just too much else I didn’t enjoy.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Got half way and am dropping. Do not like a single character, the set dressing for a gothic novel feels bland, and overall it’s more sad than spooky or compelling. Didn’t land for me but to each their own
Set in 1948, "The Garden" takes a dark and gothic look at a unique infertility clinic, a home where women who have struggled with repeated miscarriages come to stay under the care of a husband-and-wife doctor team. The main character, Irene, longs to finally bring a baby into the world, but also feels instantly suspicious of the clinic and its inhabitants. When she stumbles into a long-forgotten and neglected garden, she discovers a shocking secret that may just explain the strange occurrences at the home.
While I was generally intrigued by this book, I found it left lots unsaid and unresolved, which isn't too surprising for a supernatural gothic. Still, it took me a little while to get into it and the payoff felt incomplete.
A doctor promising hope to young women who want nothing more than to be mothers, and for one medical reason or another, are struggling. But the house, the garden, and the women in the midst of this doctor's care are starting to wonder what's actually happening in the care of this house and the shots they receive.
While I loved the interesting struggle of the women, the fear and desperation, the anguish and guilt - were all well done. But the beginning have of the story felt disjointed and odd, the dreamy never seemed to fully flush out a story that drew me in. I found the main character prickly and confusing, unreliable and I really started to wonder where the story was going. I started to really liked it in the last few chapters, though, as it really dug into the confusion and shock of it all. Interesting, but never quite pulled me in.
I was drawn to this book by its amazing cover and the promise of a secret garden on the grounds of a gothic home for women with risky pregnancies. I assumed it would be more thriller or mystery with a promise of restorative herbs and flowers, but “The Garden” is really a dreamlike horror story about miscarriages and pregnancy loss. And therein is a huge trigger warning: I would not recommend this book to any woman who has had a miscarriage or a difficult pregnancy to read this. Even childless women should beware. Heck, even men might want to avoid this story.
Clare Beam’s writing is very ethereal and there are times when it’s hard to distinguish the supernatural from hallucination. Set in the 1940s, this had to be a terrible time for women who had multiple miscarriages (you are only admitted here of you’ve had three), when women would have doubted their self-worth if they couldn’t carry on the family name with an heir, would worry about be branded “barren,” and worry that their husbands would abandon them for fertile partners. The main character, Irene, is sometimes unlikable (even her husband notices that she tends to poison the joy of the other), but I felt for her — after 5 miscarriages, it’s OK to be bitter.
The story gets over involved with the backstories of the two doctors (the grandfather could have been jettisoned), and I never felt solidarity among the group of women in similar circumstances. Every pregnancy here seemed to end in terror, not joy, even successful outcomes were clouded by “what have I done to achieve this?”
I was happy to return to the 21st century where Miscarriage Awareness is now talked about and babies born after miscarriages are known as “rainbow babies.” (No rainbows are ever mentioned in this novel.)
There might be an audience for stories like this (“Rosemary’s Baby” comes to mind), but I’m afraid it wasn’t for me. 3 stars for mostly the descriptive, evocative prose. I wish I could just stay neutral — it’s the subject matter, not the author’s work.
Literary Pet Peeve Checklist: Green Eyes (only 2% of the real world, yet it seems like 90% of all fictional females): NO Only blue ones were mentioned. Horticultural Faux Pas (plants out of season or growing zones, like daffodils in autumn or bougainvillea in Alaska): Eh, the book is called “The Garden” and the book’s garden is a mess and it’s hinted that….well…are buried there.
Thank you to Doubleday and NetGalley for a free advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review!
In 1948, Irene Willard, who's had five previous miscarriages in a quest to give her beloved husband the child he desperately desires and is now pregnant again, comes to an isolated house-cum-hospital in the Berkshires, run by a husband-and-wife team of doctors who are pioneering a cure for her condition. While the subject matter is something I have read and enjoyed in other novels, Beams' writing didn’t work for me, but from other reviews I have read said that’s what she is so well known for, so I doubt I will read any other books by her. It was a lyrical, fantasy, dreamlike quality that rarely works in my favor. So while I did enjoy the story I can’t really give this my stamp of approval because I never fully connected with it because of the writing. Interesting to note that Irene’s treatment is based on a synthetic hormone used in the 1940s that caused both birth defects and health risks for the mother.
The good: This had vivid lyrical prose and had thoughtful things to say about gender dynamics. As a study of women's insecurities, sub-human medical treatment, and rightful resentments of men during the era this book was set in it worked.
The bad: The plot went absolutely nowhere and was quite frustrating to end the story without a cohesive element in sight. There just wasn't a thoughtful wrap up to this story or even a real climax. The main character read like a snotty 15 year old that didn't seem capable of realizing some things in life just are how they are and there is no one to blame.
I can't relate to voluntarily signing up to an experimental program and being free to leave at any time but making it my life's mission to hassle and criticize the female doctor and other women in the program at any chance I can get. I'm sure Irene was supposed to be a tough feminist character, but all she did was hate on other women and was incredibly immature. Right to the very end of the book she has to blame her friend who is busy and tired taking care of her newborn baby saying "she would never love her as much again" for not having the energy for her on a phone call. Grow up Irene.
3.5 ⭐️ I would have loved more horror elements. I liked Irene’s arc & her relationships with margaret & pearl. the grandfather storyline was confusing at times and I wish it had been more tied up in the end. I loved the setting and how I kept forgetting when & where the story took place. overall, strong characters but underwhelming.
got this arc from Riverstone Books back when I used to work there, and just got around to reading it. THIS BOOK IS AMAZING!!!!! I can’t wait for it to come out so you all can witness the glory of this read.
The ratings are really low on this one, but I enjoyed it! Loved the characters, interesting plot, compelling style, and a bonus low-key creepiness. The Secret Garden meets Shirley Jackson: would recommend if that sounds good to you!
3.5 stars. This had all the claustrophobic gothic horror feelings that I wanted from it but at the end of the day I never felt gripped by it. I don’t think a main character needs to be likable to be compelling, but for me personally Irene’s unlike-ability just means I was never particularly interested in her story. Additionally the ties between Dr Bishop and the garden are never explored in a satisfactory way so when the book ended I was left let down and thinks “that’s it? That’s all we get?”
That being said if I had ever been pregnant I might feel completely differently about it. This had some interesting musings about the meaning of motherhood and how a person can both long for and dread the same event at the same time, I liked the complexity of it in that way, but since I have never in my life wanted to have a child there was just nothing there for me to get invested in.
There are several things about this story that I loved. The magical realism of the garden, the prose, and the very real horror of miscarriage. All those things shined. The problem, though, is the characterization. It felt wooden and lacked the sinister tone (with the doctors and the Bishop family history) and the melancholy yet hopeful tone (with the would-be mothers) that the writer was trying to convey. But most damning was the MC Irene. I couldn't stand her and how she interacted with the people around her. Being in her headspace the whole time made for a tedious read.