Caroline Madden’s The Marriage Vendetta is a darkly funny, furious, and fiercely feminist novel that feels like Motherland on a darker day with more rage, more folklore, and more kitchen-sink chaos. It explores the quiet, creeping erosion of self that can come with marriage and motherhood and the long, painful journey of clawing your way back to your voice. It’s a story about women: angry women, exhausted women, loving women. Women who are expected to keep going, even when the ground beneath them has split open. And it’s very Irish in the best ways. It is threaded through with folklore, generational echoes, and a dry humour that cuts as deep as it comforts.
There were some standout lines for me...
On Motherhood and the Inheritance of Womanhood:
“You are teaching her every day what it is to be a woman, what it is to be a wife, by how you live your life. You are teaching her what marriage looks like, what is acceptable, what to expect, what to tolerate. Just as your parents taught you. And as Richard's parents taught him.”
This hit hard. It beautifully captures the theme of inherited roles, how children absorb not just what they’re told, but what they witness. It’s a reckoning with the silent legacies passed from mother to daughter. Eliza’s awakening is as much about protecting her child, Mara, as it is about rescuing herself.
On Finding Your Voice:
“I'm simply asking where your voice was.”
Mrs. Early might be many things (deranged among them), but this line speaks to the theme of silencing, the way women are trained to be polite, quiet, accommodating, and how dangerous that silence can become. This question echoes throughout the novel: When did we stop speaking up for ourselves? And what would it look like if we started again?
On Women’s Anger and the Right to Defend Yourself:
“There are times in life for compassion, but there are times in life when you must defend yourself. When you are under attack, it is right, necessary, to get angry. To fight. And if you, Eliza, are incapable of doing a simple thing like telling someone to go fuck themselves when they deserve it, then you are incapable of fighting for yourself.”
This is a rallying cry. It flips the traditional script on female rage. Anger here isn’t portrayed as dangerous or hysterical, it’s righteous. Necessary. The theme of anger as a tool is key in Eliza’s evolution, and in the stories of many women who’ve been made small to keep the peace.
On Hope After Darkness:
“The darkest nights are always followed by the most radiant dawns.”
This line wraps around the theme of depression, reminding us that even when things feel unbearably heavy, there’s still the possibility of light. It doesn’t promise a neat ending, but it does offer a little hope, something deeply needed in a story that doesn’t shy away from emotional truth.
I'm also going to give a bit of extra love for Caroline's sly use of Irish folklore as both metaphor and atmosphere. Women as banshees, ghosts, goddesses. She had some truly hilarious one-liners tucked between the emotional wreckage. Pregnant Ned Flanders, I'm looking at you. And her boldness of tone. It doesn’t apologise for being angry or messy or hard to categorise.
I do have one lingering question for Caroline though. Why was Mrs. Early taking money from Eliza? Was she also milking Richard? Or just building up a menopause fund for HRT and havoc? 😂
The club as a whole gave this book 3.4/5.
I, personally, would give it 3.5/5 which would round up to 4.
I'm excited to see what Caroline does next. 😊
With glimmer,
Sinéad x