The Harpy

by Megan Hunter

‘Brilliant . . . A deeply unsettling, excellent read’ - Daisy Johnson, author of Everything Under
'A potent contemporary fable . . . riveting' - Guardian
‘Genuinely thrilling . . . one long beautiful scream’ - Evie Wyld

Lucy lives with her husband Jake and their two boys. Her life is devoted to her children, her days mapped out by their finely tuned routine.

Until a man calls one afternoon with a shattering his wife has been having an affair with Lucy’s husband. He thought she should know.

Lucy is distraught. She decides to stay with Jake, if only for the children’s sake, but in order to even the score, they agree that she will hurt him three times. Jake will not know when the hurt is coming, or what form it will take. And so begins a delicate game of crime and punishment, from which there is no return . . .

Told in dazzling, musical prose, The Harpy by Megan Hunter is a dark, staggering fairy tale, at once mythical and otherworldly and fiercely contemporary. It is a novel of love, marriage and its failures, of power and revenge, of metamorphosis and renewal.

‘Utterly compelling . . . precise and darkly truthful’ Esther Freud

Genres: Fiction, Contemporary, Horror, Magical Realism, Literary Fiction, Audiobook, Fantasy

194 pages, Paperback

First published September 3, 2020

About the author

Megan Hunter’s first novel, The End We Start From, was published in 2017 in the UK, US, and Canada, and has been translated into eight languages. It was shortlisted for Novel of the Year at the Books Are My Bag Awards, longlisted for the Aspen Words Prize, was a Barnes and Noble Discover Awards finalist and won the Forward Reviews Editor’s Choice Award. Her writing has appeared in The White Review, The TLS, Literary Hub, BOMB Magazine and elsewhere. Her second novel, The Harpy, will be published in 2020.

Reviews

[Sam Quixote · Rating 1 out of 5]

Lucy is a married mother of two who finds out her husband Jake has cheated on her with an older woman. Distraught, they agree that Lucy can cause harm to Jake three times, whenever she wishes, without retaliation, to make up for the infidelity. Yeah, this marriage will go the distance…

The premise intrigued me as did the harpy angle - I thought it’d be this interesting modern dark fairy tale - but unfortunately it turned out to be a very dull story with some trite allusions to harpies scattered through mundane scenes of domestic strife.

The premise of Lucy harming Jake doesn’t develop beyond the surface and I came to view it for what it is: astoopid. I mean, is their marriage meant to be “fixed” after the husband has domestic violence enacted on him multiple times? Of course not - there’s no path to happiness for them there! They’re a horrible couple who are obviously unhappy and shouldn’t be together. The answer shouldn’t be violence but a tacit understanding that their marriage is over and they’ll see other people and decide whether to continue to live together for the kids’ sake or not.

That’s only a small part of the book though - most of it is Lucy rambling on about the stresses of motherhood and being dissatisfied with her work. It ain’t gripping reading and she doesn’t say anything remarkable about either. And then there’s the wishy-washy ending where she goes into a cop-out trance state with some vague rubbish about being raped and witnessing domestic violence in her own parents which, I guess, are meant to excuse/explain her shitty behaviour towards her husband. It’s an attempt by the writer to go for an arty ending but it feels like she simply didn’t know how to end her crap story and the overall impression is very unsatisfying.

Megan Hunter’s The Harpy is a wasted premise and a boring novel.

[Michelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a story about infidelity that was told in such poetic, beautiful prose that you simply can't look away from the page.

Stories about infidelity are nothing new by any means but where Hunter excels is making it so realistic. Lucy and Jake could be any married couple you know. This felt like an authentic marriage in the midst of a breakdown.

Lucy believes she has a wonderful life. Happily married to Jake with two young sons Paddy and Teddy. She gladly put her career aside to raise their sons because that is what a good wife and mother does. They give a little piece of themselves up in order to maintain happiness in the home.

So Lucy is completely blindsided when she gets a call from a man claiming that his wife is having an affair with her husband. Not just any woman but, Vanessa, his much older colleague from work. These are people she invited into her home for dinner parties. Not once had she ever suspected that something like this would happen. Never once had she wondered about the late nights with co-workers and off-scheduled trains delaying his arrival and what that actually meant. All those lies that so easily slipped off his tongue and through his lips are like a slap to the face now. Clarity becomes so bright her mind nearly breaks.

"When Vanessa had complimented the house, I had rushed to clarify, red faced, holding a plate of mince meat pies: It's only rented. Not ours. I wish! Who was I pretending to be when I spoke like that? Stupid cunt. I whispered this under my breath as I sprayed the glass coffee table, wiping fresh streak across it's surface. I didn't know who I was talking to but it felt good in my mouth anyway, a small wet kiss."

Feeling empty, devastated, and angry she decides that Jake will be punished three times and he, in all his guilt, agrees to these terms. All three will be a surprise and done precisely when Lucy feels the time is right.

"Mary look conflicted, pained, a near-stranger at a funeral.

Lucy you know you can talk to me, don't you? If there is anything wrong - anything wrong at all.

So she knew. Shit. Fuckity fuck. I had noticed the swearing in my head was becoming very childish lately, as though I was learning how to use words all over again. Curses had begun to spill out of my mouth, dribble like, at ordinary moments, loading washing in to the machine, pulling hairs out of the drain.

Ah, yes. Everything's fine - but thanks. Thanks!

The last few words were loud, sharply pitched, yelled over my shoulder as I pedaled away."

"Why was I the one who was looked at as damaged? Jake had been unfaithful but somehow that reflected badly on me, I could tell. Just a housewife, really. Nothing achieved, no publications under my name. Not worth staying faithful to."

Interspersed throughout the story are recollections of her youth when she became obsessed with the mythological creature the Harpy. For those that don't know the Harpies are bird like creatures with female faces that are known to torment and kidnap men that did terrible things. During these recollections we also find out about the abuse her mother faced at her fathers hand often openly in front of her which leads to her obsession with the Harpies.

The end of this is left up for the reader to interpret which isn't my favorite way to conclude a story. I wanted to know what happened between Lucy and Jake so for that I have to knock a star. 4 stars!

Thank you to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for providing me with a digital ARC in exchange for my honest review.

[Silvia Moreno-Garcia]

The story of a marriage breaking down and a woman (maybe) turning into a murderous mythological bird frankly sounds very exciting and this does open with a WHAM, but then it dials it down to a simmer. Which is not bad, since the prose is just so beautiful, but for anyone expecting a SFF novel, this is definitely literary with a big L and not, you know, Horrid Mutation Mommy. Very much an exploration of a character, in this case of a woman who is struggling under the heaping pressure of societal expectations. Just lovely but overlong. One feels this would have been a killer short story and is stretched a bit thin at the end. But if you like beautiful writing and introspection, and I do, you'll lap it up.

Full review: https://www.npr.org/2020/11/04/930896...

[Dannii Elle · Rating 4 out of 5]

One day, amid the daily humdrum of chores and child-care, a phone call stirs the silence. A message is delivered. Lucy's husband is having an affair. And, just like that, or maybe long before, the harpy is awoken.

This novel was constructed in such an interesting format. Lucy, when faced with her husband's infidelity, moves through the range of emotions movies and TV shows have taught her to feel. These are experienced only at surface level and, beneath them, the only way she truly feels she can heal begins to reveal itself - three hurts for the ongoing one he has done to her.

Sequestering these scenes from Lucy's life are the movements of the harpy, a mythological being combining the features of a woman with those of a bird. These are brief and detail Lucy's childhood attachment with them, her university research reveals their journey from Greek and Roman mythology to the present, and her present predicament welcomes their arrival.

Despite the catastrophe that is played out, this is somehow still a quiet novel. It is very inwardly focused, relying on simmering emotion amongst daily suburban trivialities and small acts of vengeance which later culminate to one of staggering and unprecedented proportions.

The ending feels glaringly inconclusive, but not in an unlikable fashion. It felt fitting that the reader gets to decide whether this harpy grew her wings and took flight, or uncurled her talons for one final act against those who had wronged her.

I relieved a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to the author, Megan Hunter, and the publisher, Picador, for this opportunity.

[Debra - can't post any comments on site today grrr · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I asked my mother what a harpy was, and she told me: they punish men for the things they do."

Lucy is a happily married woman raising two sons with her husband, Jake up until the day she receives a phone call from a man informing her that her husband has been having an affair with his wife, Vanessa. Her world shattered; she informs Jake that she knows. He says he is sorry; he says it was only sex, he claims it is over. But the couple agree that Lucy can hurt him three times to make up for the pain he has caused.

"You can hurt me back. Three times - then we'll be even?"

But will they be even? Will this make Lucy feel better? Will it make things, right? Will this push one of them over the edge?

Lucy has always been intrigued by Harpies. Now she has a chance to be like one. To make a man pay for what he has done. Everyone thinks they know what they would do in certain situations but when it actually happens....Lucy is fragile, and her mental state begins to be changing, she begins to become more like a harpy and less like herself.

"But the picture I remembered best was the harpies, dark shadows, birds with women's faces, who came down to torture the unicorn, to make him suffer."


Will you feel sorry for anyone in this book? Her husband annoyed me when he pointed out that a man at their holiday party would never cheat because he was so into the woman he was dating...was that his not so subtle way of telling Lucy that he was not into her. That he preferred a more mature and sophisticated woman???

This book has a familiar premise: a cheating spouse gets exposed. But the writing in this was absorbing and I found myself having a hard time putting this down. Some will be uncomfortable with the physically harming someone to make things right. I viewed this as her embodying the harpy and becoming a shadow of her former self.

I found this book to be beautifully written - not to mention the intriguing cover! The writing sucked me in, and I was captivated. I enjoyed the pacing and being able to get into Lucy's head as the story is told from her POV.

This book is intriguing, simmering, captivating and hard to put down.

Thank you to Grove Atlantic/Grove Press and NetGalley who provided me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All the thoughts and opinions are my own.

[Wera · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.25 stars
**Many thanks to Grove Atlantic, Megan Hunter, and NetGalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review. Release date: November 13, 2020**

I was really excited to read this book. Contemporary fiction is something that I am actively trying to read more of. Magical realism was the other part of the synopsis that intrigued me. A woman slowly becoming a harpy? Bring it on! Turns out, this book as a an intense identity issue (more on this later). Lucy's husband Jake cheated on her with Vanesa, his older co-worker. In the efforts to mend their relationship, Jake and Lucy decide that payback is needed. Lucy will be hurt Jake thrice, and they will be even. One thing neither of them could have anticipated was the effect this would have on them, and Lucy especially. The harpy that sleeps inside her is starting to awaken.

First off, I'll tackle the confusing themes. I said that I thought this book was having an identity crisis and I stick with that. At moments I thought it was meant to be feminist, and at others it just seemed very anti-women (similar to the way The Wives was). The entire progression of this book relies on Lucy engaging her emotions and letting herself be heard. However, there are so many little things that contradicted that theme (which you'd think is the main one because the book is literally titled The Harpy). Motherhood is talked about a lot and very rarely in a positive light. On one hand, Lucy kills herself over doing even the smallest things wrong when it comes to her children. On the other, she constantly views them as a nuisance and at times she wishes she would have just ran away when they were born. Motherhood and women's roles in the house are both shown to be the deciding factors when it comes to a woman's worth in this book. Lucy often worries over how the other women will perceive her. The entire time I was wondering where this was going... but it didn't really go anywhere.

I want to touch up on that ending a bit. Did Lucy kill herself? Jump off the house? That's what I got from it. Again this is really confusing because I would have thought that after she hospitalised Jake, she'd think of the children and do something to be there for them. But she transforms into the harpy... and dies? wut. Maybe I am interpreting this wrong, if so please help.

"When everyone knows, they'll say they saw it coming. (...) We always knew she was like that, they will say, afraid of the truth. They knew nothing."

Another thing that was lackluster was the characters. None of them were particularly memorable. I can say, though, that at least Lucy was interesting enough to follow. This may have been because I was trying to figure out what the heck was going on in her head... I failed at this. From what I could tell, the bigger focus than the characters was the interactions, especially between Lucy and Jake. This was an area that wasn't terrible but wasn't great and most definitely was confusing. At times I thought it was sweet and empowering how they were working through things, but other times I wanted to scream at them to end the relationship if they hated it so much. I guess it is a positive that I felt so much because at least that means this book will evoke emotions from you. Through Lucy and Jake's relationship betrayal, forgiveness, and the ability to move on were explored. Unfortunately, I thought that this fell flat. Throughout the book, we go around in circles: Jakes betrays Lucy; Lucy hurts Jake; their relationship mends; Jake betrays Lucy. So is the message of this book to hurt the people who hurt you and just sit back and wait until they do it again? That's kinda what I got.

Lastly, I must mention the writing style, which is quite atmospheric and shows a lot of personality. Although sometimes it was so flowery, so it just didn't make sense at all, mostly it was interesting enough and quite mystical, which I thought suited the story very well.

In my eyes, The Harpy will go down as that novel that was so bizarre, not in a good way, that I just never got to make any sense of it.

[Renee Godding · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75/5 stars

Interesting premise, well written and kept me hooked from start to finish. Only complaint would be the ending: the entirety of part 4 felt a bit too rushed and unsatisfying to me.

[R ♥ · Rating 3 out of 5]

❝ Sometimes I question whether anyone can know what it's like before it happens. Marriage and motherhood are like death in this way, and others too: no one comes back unchanged. ❞

I don’t know how I feel about this book. It’s dark and gritty, fused with themes of infidelity and abuse strewn in. The writing style was very poetic, and I thought the author’s writing was beautiful, but some of the descriptions felt a bit unnecessary. The Harpy follows the life of Lucy as she learns of her husband’s infidelity. She’s tossed into a never-ending cycle of pain and obsession, and begins to deteriorate. This book definitely drove me into a bad mood, left me with a sour taste in my mouth and I couldn’t help sympathizing with Lucy for everything she went through.

It was a short read, and the last few pages really left me wishing for more. I thought that the ending would leave me surprised or lead into something much more grand, maybe even feeding off into the glint of horror that had started to appear throughout the book, but it was none of that. It left me conflicted and confused more than anything, and for me, it was unsatisfying. I wish that some questions would be answered and we’d know more about Lucy’s unique situation towards the end, but I think this book is meant to serve more as a portrait of identification and finding oneself than resolving one’s problem, though I can’t hide my discontent nor curiosity towards the matter.

I’m kind of stuck on how to rate this, on one hand, this book was very poetic and beautiful in a twisted kind of way, but also left me bitter and wanting more. I definitely reccomend checking this out for yourself, but be warned that it deals with dark topics & situations and will definitely leave you in a sour sort of mood.

Review copy provided by the publisher and netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

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[Marialyce · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

Remembering back to my high school days, the Latin classes I took introduced us to the world of mythology. The harpies were creatures with bodies that were half human having the face of a woman and the body of a bird. They were the harbingers of whirlwinds or storm winds. The Harpies were the supposed cause of disappearance, later morphing into the pursuers of evil doers. Cruel and vicious, they found pleasure at the torture of their victims. Some believed that they were the justice servers on men.

“I asked my mother what a harpy was, and she told me: they punish men for the things they do.”

Lucy has found out a terrible secret about her husband, Jake. He has been unfaithful with one of his coworkers. Receiving that phone call from the husband of Jake’s mistress, Lucy is devastated but as part of the process to fix their marriage, Lucy enters a pact with her husband where she can hurt him three times. As she tries to get some semblance of it all, she reflects on her life of being a mother to two boys, a wife, and the tie that holds the family together. She has many conversations with herself and we are left to see the harpy that Lucy is becoming. It’s at times hard to see where Lucy is as the Harpy takes over. Lucy wonders as most women do whose husbands have strayed, “Was I not good enough?”

She is an aggrieved woman seeking revenge and as she has enacted the punishments on her husband, Jake, each with increasing severity.

Lucy can become the harpy that she has been fascinated by over the years. She will punish Jake and hope that she will be avenged. However, will she? When the book ends, beautiful writing in all, there is no concrete solution. There are so many possible outcomes and Lucy is changing. The Harpy she has become is strong and one wonders how much revenge if any, she still will seek.

This book had the sense of the macabre, the ability to make the reader feel as unsteady as Lucy was. However, as she grows into a woman seeking not only revenge, we see a woman who is ready to see herself outside the terms of a wife and mother.

Recommended to those who enjoy a book that makes your thoughts flow, a book that has you pondering what you would do, a book that had no answers just the eternal question can this marriage be saved? You will definitely be unsettled after reading this story. Makes me wonder as well, do we all have a harpy within us?

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Published today 3/9/2020

I lift the razor and a fairy-tale drop of blood escapes from under the silver.

Megan Hunter’s debut novel “The End We Start From” was a ruthlessly pared back and fragmentary novella/prose poem, set in a dystopian future where London is submerged by unexpectedly catastrophic sea level rises just as the female narrator gives birth. It was woven through with italicised excerpts from mythological and religious texts around creation/flood and end times. It was a haunting book as well as an oblique meditation on the physicality of being a mother.

This her second novel has many links to the first.

The book still contains a meditation on motherhood, although the narrator and her circle of friends and colleagues have moved beyond the physicality of the first book – albeit into a period with its own challenges, particularly of thwarted career ambitions:

But few of us had babies or even toddlers any more, and we spoke of those days with the kind of quiet reverence that elderly people use to speak about the war, our eyes misting over with the memory of the atmosphere, the breathy physicality, the murky blending of space and time. Now most of us had careers that were still on hold or had moved, somehow, to a forever part-time, lower-waged track. We were still many years away from the trickle of divorces that would begin just as our children became teenagers, their rebellions reminding us, in bodily, unavoidable forms, of worlds where things happened. For now, families were steady. In this place, most husbands had highly paid jobs, travelled a lot. Most wives, despite their multiple degrees, did all the school runs, counted the days until their men returned from Stockholm or Singapore.

And there are some superb lines on being a parent:

It happened on a Friday, the boys in their last rhythm of the week, me trying to stay steady for them, a ship in dock, something you could hardly see the end of. I picked them up from school, administering snacks, absorbing shreds of their days, the wrappers from their sweets.

I was always liberal about television; I don’t know if I would have survived otherwise, without the children’s thoughts separated from my own, peeled away and placed in a box.

People complain that women lose themselves to motherhood, but aren’t so many of the things we do an attempt to lose ourselves?

The narrator of this book is Lucy Stevenson, married to Jake (a University researcher). The book effectively begins when, David Holmes, another University employee, leaves her a voice mail to say that Jake has been having an affair with David’s wife Vanessa (10 years older than Jake and a close colleague). David we are told when he calls “was careful to use surnames, for everyone. To make it official.” – of course a (I assume deliberate) contrast to the first book which had an unnamed narrator with her family known only by initials.

And interestingly whereas the first book is explicitly set in London, this one is in an unnamed University City (which seems to be Cambridge, although left vague as to whether it could also be Oxford).

Lucy was aware David was close to Vanessa but had dismissed an affair, assuming she was safer than David spending time with young graduate students and happy to take his late night working as an excuse to have some me-time, but now

I watched a wave of my own ignorance gathering at the edge of my thoughts, low, like tsunamis seemed to be from a distance, threatening to overtake everything.

An image which with its idea of an impending flood, links to the first book, and to Lucy’s increased obsession with disaster.

Like the first novel the book draws heavily on mythology – but in this case one basic myth – that of the Harpy, a myth image which has fascinated Lucy since childhood

When I was a child, there was a book – out of print now, expensive – about a unicorn who went into the sea and became a narwhal. The book had beautiful illustrations, dark blue seas, peach-pale evening skies. But the picture I remembered best was of the harpies, dark shadows, birds with women’s faces, who came down to torture the unicorn, to make him suffer. I asked my mother what a harpy was, and she told me: they punish men for the things they do.

And which later as we learn from italicised sections became the subject of her study and research.

Desperate to placate Lucy, Jake suggests that she takes physical revenge on him – and the two agree that she can inflict damage on him on three occasions (three picked for its religious echoes – again linking to the first book).

And the Lucy I feel explicitly draws on the legend of the Harpy for her three -fold revenge: the Harpy’s role in the story of King Phineus of Thrace in spoiling the food in a feast; the Harpy’s role in stealing possessions (in this case a phone and then an academic career) and the Harpy’s role in torture (particularly of those who have killed their own family).

Over time the book gathers depth in a number of ways: Lucy’s revenge becomes more dramatic in its consequences; we learn more of her past hurts and realise her revenge is not just on Jake and recent hurts, but a much longer period of hurt and stored up vengeance; we explore the themes of forgiveness against vengeance, of contrition against guilt – and most powerfully how over time society has mythologised female justice as being more unacceptable (and more importantly unnatural) than male transgressions; the book takes on more fantastical tones as Lucy more fully grows into her role as avenging harpy.

As the opening quote implies, this is a razor-sharp novel – using fantasy to explore its themes. Recommended.

My thanks to Pan Macmillan for an ARC via NetGalley.

[Claire Fuller · Rating 4 out of 5]

This cover! Isn't it beautiful? The story and atmosphere in The Harpy kept up a wonderfully uncomfortable background hum all through this quick read. When Lucy learns that her husband has been having an affair they agree that in revenge she can hurt him three times. As well being a copywriter working from home, Lucy is the main child-carer in the marriage and finds this role increasingly difficult. (I really enjoyed how Hunter portrays the tedious minutiae of looking after children - especially siblings who don't get on.) Interspersed with the main story are short chapters about how Lucy was obsessed with harpies when she was younger, and gradually this obsession feeds into her relationship with Jake. Although the prose was clean and crisp it was sometime a little overwrought by metaphors and descriptions that didn't seem to add anything to the story. I also enjoyed the ambiguous ending (although there were a few solutions to where Lucy was going which were too neat for me).

[Suz · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another quick read, literary fiction this time. This was an insular peek into a married couples slide into infidelity, and the dark way in which the scorned dealt with the betrayal. A strange payback, a mother still looking after her children while doling out certain strikes of punishment. Reflecting on her upbringing, the effects of family violence. Children really do absorb more than those tasked to care for them do realise. Is she the harpy, merging into this evil mythological creature. She’s pretty odd, and hard for sure. Fans of litfic will like this. I did.

[Adrienne L · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing is undeniably incisive and poignant and I was tabbing a lot of pages during the first half of The Harpy. I also think the central metaphor is compelling. But the final half of the book dragged, I don't think the central conflict of the husband's infidelity was interesting enough to propel the story, and I got frustrated with Lucy's lack of agency. I also wasn't satisfied with the ending. Don't give me a fascinating mythological monster as a representation of feminine rage and then clip its wings.

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Megan Hunter's prose is as spell-binding as ever. I really enjoyed her debut but knew even as I read it that it would not stick with me: "But sometimes I like books told in style and glitter and beautiful sentences." This book is different - the prose is deliberately over the top and overwritten, stunningly so, but still A LOT, whereas The End We Start From was deliberately sparse in a way that I prefered. However, this book has stuck with me and I cannot quite stop thinking about it. It is so very clever but was ultimately, for me at least, let down by its vague ending that did not work as well as the unflinching honesty the rest of the book possessed. I rounded up my rating anyways because of the aforementioned cleverness.

Told from a close first person narration by Lucy, as former PhD-student of the Classics who now lives her life as a stay-at-home mum of two who occasionally free-lances, this book is a look at motherhood and relationships. The book starts with Lucy finding out that her husband has been cheating on her and them agreeing to her being allowed to hurt him, three times. Interspersed are prose-poem like asides about harpies, the subject of Lucy's abandoned PhD project. Lucy is, before everything else, resentful; resentful of the way her life has turned out, resentful of her husband, resentful of the other parents at her children's school, and yes, often resentful of the time her children demand of her. Jake is not a bad man, he is present and an active part in their children's lives but still - most of the mind-numbingly boring parts of motherhood are managed by Lucy alone - driving the children to school and to their different activities, making sure they have snacks, that they are clothed properly and so on, and Lucy resents that. It feels like she is even a little bit relieved when Jake's affair comes to light because it gives her anger a focus, a reasonable excuse to give in to the swirling feelings she has. Lucy is difficult to root for because she is so grimly unhappy and humourlessly mean - but she is also stuck in a situation she never wanted to be in and as such I could not help but feel for her. Her husband has the job she was on a trajectory on, being a university lecturer at an unnamed university (it does feel like either Oxford or Cambridge from the way their town is described), her ambition left her but not enough for her to be happy with her life as it is.

Content warning: self-harm, alcohol abuse, cheating, domestic abuse, vomit, suicide

I received an ARC of this book courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[Sadie Hartmann · Rating 5 out of 5]

Those reading experiences you have that seem oddly specific...strangely intimate...like the book was written for you? You share some cosmic connection with the author in a deeply personal way. How could she know about this? How could she put down in words on paper this thought that I've had?

This is a story about marriage
About betrayal and infidelity
It's about who we are...the events that shape us, the relationships from our past informing our relationships now
This is a story about sharing a life with someone
Creating a family...having children who will someday turn into adults
It's profoundly introspective...thoughts on monogamous relationships & the sacrifice of losing oneself in newfound identities defined by society "mother", "wife",
Motherhood and all of those beautiful, icky feelings
Love
Jealousy
Madness
Failed expectations
The nuances and intricacies of a marriage that nobody will ever know or ever see...just this secret language between two people
The way some of the scenes made me gasp out loud!
I don't know why people have rated this book so low, maybe they just don't believe in dark fairytales or even, real life.
This book is real life. As real as it gets.

[Kate♡ · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/5stars

Super interesting and pretty weird. I'd call this a very good mix of Kate Chopin's "The Awakening" and Han Kang's "The Vegetarian"

[Jan Agaton · Rating 3 out of 5]

The end of part 1 and all of part 2 were what made me really engaged with the story and then it kind of lost me. I did, however, appreciate the exploration of the intricacies of a toxic marriage. What an odd little book.

[Ends of the Word · Rating 4 out of 5]

In her debut novel(la) The End We Start From, Megan Hunter imagines a post-apocalyptic scenario where waters are inexplicably rising, laying waste to towns and cities. Many critics read in it a timely warning about climate change. However, there was also a sub-text to the novella which one could easily overlook – I interpreted The End We Start From as a celebration of motherhood and the sense of hope that a new birth brings with it.

The theme of motherhood also looms large in Megan Hunter’s second novella The Harpy, but here it is conveyed in much darker and more pessimistic hues. Indeed, The Harpy is an indictment of a patriarchal society that first expects women to be faithful wives, perfect mothers and dutiful homemakers and then sidelines them precisely for having fulfilled these expectations. In the novella, this critique of patriarchy is eventually extended to comprise the theme of domestic violence and the way that “forgiveness” is expected of (female) victims as a means to maintain the status quo. This widening of the theme leads to some loss of focus, but the work’s message remains a powerful one.

If, in her first novella, Hunter gave her personal twist to the post-apocalyptic genre, here she ventures into “domestic thriller” territory, albeit laced with mythical elements and more than a twist of horror.

Since her childhood, Lucy, the novella's protagonist is fascinated by harpies – legendary creatures of vengeance, birds with a female face and torso, “their eyes pale slits, their hair thick black lines, flying in shapes behind their heads”. At University, Lucy opts for Classics and chooses harpies as an object of research. Years later, now settled down with her husband Jake and tethered to a daily routine of caring for their two young boys, the harpies seem like a long-forgotten obsession. Until, that is, Lucy learns that Jake has been sleeping with a work colleague, Vanessa. Older, sophisticated and unblemished by child-bearing or rearing, Vanessa seems everything that Lucy is not. Jake admits to his infidelity and agrees to submit himself to an exemplary punishment. Thus begins Lucy’s change into the mythical harpy.

The Harpy manages to be at the same time a hyper-realist portrayal of the frustrations within a contemporary family and a mythical tale ripe with symbolism, told throughout in Hunter’s trademark poetic prose. The final pages are particularly haunting as the distinction between fantasy and reality becomes increasingly blurred. Some passages are not for the faint-hearted – but, given the subject-matter, some disturbing images are hardly out of place.

This is another strong showing from Megan Hunter. Clearly, the success of her debut was no fluke!

(An illustrated review can be found at: https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/20... )

[Sheena · Rating 3 out of 5]

November 3rd, 2020: Happy publication day! I read this book back in June and still think about it sometimes.

June 10th, 2020: Lucy is constantly busy with marriage and motherhood, she never has time for herself and is struggling with balancing everything out. One day, Lucy gets a call and finds out that her husband her been cheating on her. From there, we see her slowly descent into madness or into madness that was already within her, just waiting to be awoken. Lucy's husband Jake tells her that she can hurt him three times and they will be even. Who even agrees to that? Or even thinks of that in the first place?? Because of that deal, I thought that this might turn into some sort of psychological thriller and was excited to see what Lucy decided to do from there. I did enjoy the story and the writing, however, the ending had left me unsatisfied with some questions,. The writing is beautiful and keeps you engaged, I actually had trouble putting the book down because I needed to know where the story was going. Overall, I would give this a solid 3.5 stars. Also, what a glorious cover.

Thank you Netgalley and to the publisher for providing me with an advanced copy!

[Eva K (journeyofthepages) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Written in beautiful, almost poetic prose, this story is striking. You are gripped by the story line and engrossed in the writing from the start. This is a short read with a lot to absorb. This book comes highly recommended and will not disappoint.

Thank you, Netgally and Grove Press, for a copy of this book for review,

[Roman Clodia · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is short, sharp and smart (and oh, that glorious cover!) as her husband's infidelity is the catalyst for long-suppressed rage and violence to spill over in Lucy's psyche. Hunter keeps it impressionistic rather than directly linear and intimates how Lucy's upbringing with its covered-over domestic violence between her parents as well as more institutionalised gender expectations have been seething beneath the surface. The image of the harpy works well and figures both as a symbol of feminised aggression as well as a motif that articulates self-alienation and a kind of fracturing of identity.

The writing is, however, in a style that I typically dislike: that dreamy 'poetic' prose (think Daisy Johnson or Jessica Andrews' Saltwater) that smacks of creative writing class and which can too often prioritise pretty combinations of words which, scutinised, don't stand up to much: 'the virgin blue of his notification light in the darkness' (why 'virgin blue'? Ok, I get that the notification reveals infidelity but it's a tenuous connection at best), 'I snarled at Jake, a rose bush, a tarantula' (I get that a rose bush has thorns but it's a stretch to use it as a descriptor of an enraged wife), 'the oil shimmers, gold leaf on deep red heat' (it's just a pasta sauce, for heaven's sake!). It's also hard that so much of this book is taken up with domestic minutiae: bathing the kids, making their tea (fish fingers, since you ask), picking them up from school - again, I can see that this reflects the burden of Lucy's domestic work but it's dull reading.

I suspect this could have been tautened up to make a brilliant short story - spun out to novella length it starts to sag a bit.

Thanks to Picador for an ARC via NetGalley

[Maxwell · Rating 3 out of 5]

A sharp, short novel about a woman's metamorphosis. After discovering her husband, Jake, has cheated on her, Lucy sets out to make things even by hurting him three times. He has agreed to this compromise, yet she will surprise him each time with her scorn. We experience the toll this has on Lucy as she goes about her daily life, taking care of her children, playing the role of wife and mother, while thoughts from her past surface. As it comes to a head, Lucy will discover there is more to her than meets the eye. It's a cutting, disturbing examination of marriage, fidelity, and presumably how it can feel to be a woman in a world run by men. I appreciated the prose and that the novel didn't distend itself. It's over right as it's getting started, but leaves you with lots to think about.

[Ivana · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Harpy by Megan Hunter is a piece of fiction I am unable to categorize in a specific genre since it is incredibly unique.

This is one of the most fascinating stories I've ever read. The protagonist is a woman named Lucy. She is a wife and a mother. At least she sees herself as only that. After marrying her husband Jake and becoming a mother she abandons her PhD and her career. This results in her staying at home and becoming a shadow of herself. The plot is intense and fast-paced, so in the first few pages she finds out her husband Jake is having an affair with his work associate Vanessa. Lucy's reaction is thoroughly explained since we are experiencing the story from her point of view. We get to have a look inside of her psyche as she experiences this big life-changing event. She compares her own mental state to her knowledge of women's reactions to cheating husbands in media such as soap-operas, movies, and books, where women react violently and strongly. She is bewildered by the revelation that she doesn't have a need to act as those women do. We see her pulling away from Jake, but not once does she think about leaving him. She becomes very passive-aggressive and it is interesting to see that her pain and disappointment manifests physically – she is continuously sick and vomits. Throughout the book, we also find out that she is deeply traumatized by her pregnancies and the brutal complications that followed the birth of her sons. This results in her fear of doctors and even, subconsciously, sex. Also, she constantly questions her capability of being a good mother and a wife, even though she sees herself as only that. This is among other things due to her memories of her toxic parents and the upbringing she had.

And now we come to her hyper fixation on the mythological creature Harpy. I've decided to write it capitalized since she doesn't see the Harpy as a general term for all such creatures, but I believe she sees it as a singular entity. As a child, she first came across the Harpy in one of her picture books and immediately became fascinated by it. The ruthlessness of the creature was appealing to her. However, she also saw it as something rightful, something worthy of punishing those she deemed morally wrong.

"I asked my mother what a harpy was, and she told me: they punish men for the things they do."

At first, she was in fact scared of it, found it gruesome, but as she digests the tragedy of her marriage she starts to relate herself more and more to the Harpy. This becomes a focal point of the story after Lucy and Jake come to a certain agreement. They decide that in order for Lucy to forgive him, Jake must let her punish him three times. The symbolism of the number is important to Lucy since she connects it to her time spent going to church as a child – the Holy Trinity for example, but even more so Saint Peter's three betrayals.

"Three. I'd said it out loud, after he did. It made a kind of neat sense, something religious about its structure. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Peter betrayed Jesus three times. A familiar number, for a good Christian girl like me. I remember being allowed to ring the bell, in church: three time, I was told."

As she does these three acts we see her becoming less and less remorseful, but at the same time, she fights the urge to fell remorse since it is in her eyes the right thing to be. Every punishment is more brutal than the previous one. But it is very interesting that Lucy isn't consciously aware of that nor of the consequences of the punishment. She thinks very little about the outcome as she punishes him and is even a bit confused it comes to pass. Then she starts to force herself to feel remorse but often fails. She slowly loses empathy. It is also worth noting that as the punishings start, she no longer feels sick nor vomits.

"He would know - as I had known for years, forever - how easy it was for a body to be destroyed."

Furthermore, even though she is so overwhelmed by doubt of the capability of being a mother she subconsciously resents it and often thinks about things that could have happened to her children resulting in their death. However, every time such a thought passes through her mind she compares her behavior to other mothers that had perhaps done something that endangered their child. This makes her think very highly of herself and she puts herself on a pedestal of being a perfect mother.


When she thinks of Vanessa, her husband's mistress, she glorifies her. Primarily by comparing herself to Vanessa. She sees her as "sophisticated and unblemished by child-bearing or rearing" . Everything Lucy is not. This awakens even deeper resentment towards Vanessa in her.

Lucy's transformation into the Harpy is both literal and metaphoric, but not thoroughly explained leaving this book in the realm of magical realism. I like this very much since as much as it shows Lucy's character development, it also leaves the reader craving more and needing an answer. The answer, since it is non-existent, is upon the reader to find himself.
As Lucy transforms, we watch her lose herself. She sometimes doesn't recognize herself anymore.

"My hands were no longer my own, I began to suspect. The belonged to someone else. Mrs Stevenson, perhaps. The woman who married Jake, who became a wife and a mother, who would never be a real person again."

The writing. It is beautiful. There is no other word I can come up with to explain it. Even when explaining the most gruesome of acts, Megan Hunter accomplishes to use an enchanting lyrical tone. This way, the story flows and seems almost dream-like.

There actually aren't many bad things to point out about this piece of fiction. I enjoyed it deeply. And one other thing, which not many authors succeed in, is the way Megan Hunter builds the atmosphere. I was pulled into the story instantly because of it. It helped me understand the protagonist, Lucy even more since I was so disturbed the whole time. I am very impressed by the author for this particular reason, among all the rest.

Must I say anything about the beautiful cover? I couldn't find the name of the artist. All I can say is that it captures the story, the aesthetic, and the reflects it perfectly.

All that is left to say is that I am excited to read more from Megan Hunter!

I received this book in exchange for an honest review.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

(3.5) Hunter’s second novella treads familiar ground ­– a wife discovers evidence of her husband’s affair and questions everything about their life together – but somehow manages to feel fresh because of the mythological allusions and the hint of how female rage might reverse familial patterns of abuse.

Lucy Stevenson is a mother of two whose husband Jake works at a university. One day she opens a voicemail message on her phone from a David Holmes, saying that he thinks Jake is having an affair with his wife, Vanessa. Lucy vaguely remembers meeting the fiftysomething couple, colleagues of Jake’s, at the Christmas party she hosted the year before.

As further confirmation arrives and Lucy tries to carry on with everyday life (another Christmas party, a pirate-themed birthday party for their younger son), she feels herself transforming into a wrathful, ravenous creature ­– much like the harpies she was obsessed with as a child and as a Classics student before she gave up on her PhD.

Like the mythical harpy, Lucy administers punishment. At first, it’s something of a joke between her and Jake: he offers that she can ritually harm him three times. Twice it takes physical form; once it’s more about reputational damage. The third time, it goes farther than either of them expected. It’s clever how Hunter presents this formalized violence as an inversion of the domestic abuse of which Lucy’s mother was a victim.

Lucy also expresses anger at how women are objectified, and compares three female generations of her family in terms of how housewifely duties were embraced or rejected. She likens the grief she feels over her crumbling marriage to contractions or menstrual cramps. It’s overall a very female text, in the vein of A Ghost in the Throat. You feel that there’s a solidarity across time and space of wronged women getting their own back. I enjoyed this so much more than Hunter’s debut, The End We Start From.


The main question we ask about the books we read for Literary Wives is: What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?

“Marriage and motherhood are like death … no one comes back unchanged.”

So much in life can remain unspoken, even in a relationship as intimate as a marriage. What becomes routine can cover over any number of secrets; hurts can be harboured until they fuel revenge. Lucy has lost her separate identity outside of her family relationships and needs to claw back a sense of self.

I don’t know that this book said much that is original about infidelity, but I sympathized with Lucy’s predicament. The literary and magical touches obscure the facts of the ending, so it’s unclear whether she’ll stay with Jake or not. Because we’re mired in her perspective, it’s hard to see Jake or Vanessa clearly. Our only choice is to side with Lucy.

Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.

[johnny ♡ · Rating 3 out of 5]

yaaaas girl. kill his ass!

[M · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Harpy is a book I've been thinking about the last couple of days, and in the end, I'm still not sure where I should rate it. While I was listening with interest, I found the story to be a sort of dull rant. But simultaneously... do I enjoy rants with very sarcastic protagonists? Maybe.

I will also acknowledge that this might be my favorite cover I've seen this year! It stands out and perfectly matches this dark vibe you get while reading Hunter's writing. Speaking of the writing, I was definitely impressed by how well the author could mix something sort of eloquent and fancy, with almost constant cursing.

I'll be very interested in Hunter's upcoming work, but the plot for The Harpy didn't go to the places I was expecting and did let me down in the end. I think a lot of other readers might connect to the main character, considering she speaks from a very emotional and undoubtedly honest part of herself.

[merixien · Rating 2 out of 5]

Evliliğinde büyük bir krizin ortasında kalan bir kadının; aldatma ve bunu karşılığında bir intikam hakkını nasıl kullandığı üzerine olan hikayeyi takip ederken bir yandan da çocukluğundan itibaren gelen travmatik yaralarıyla karşılaşıyorsunuz. Ama bir şekilde dikkatinizi üzerinde tutamıyor, bunda soğuk anlatım tarzının da etkisi büyük. Normalde bu tip konularda o mesafeli anlatım kitabı daha cazip bir hale getirirken (örneğin Leila Slimani’nin Hoş nağme kitabında) burada o ölçü bir yerde kaçıyor ve sizin hikayeye dahil olmanızı engelliyor gibi. Sevemedim.

2,5/5

[Anastacia Reads Stuff · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to love this book so much and at first I really did. The first few pages suck you right in and the plot concept was very very unique. However, the last of the 3 "revenges." Was too far fetched for me. She went from realistically savage pay back methods to something that just wasn't plausible. The end felt rushed and unfinished. I wanted more description of the final straw breaking like we had gotten during the first 3/4ths of the book.

[Scarlet · Rating 4 out of 5]

Would have been perfect as a novella, but I still enjoyed this way more than expected.

3.5 rounded up for the really good writing!

[fatma · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Nobody thinks they will become that woman until it happens. They walk down the street, knowing it will never be them.

They have no idea how it is: like the turning of a foot on a crack in the pavement, the slip of an ankle from the kerb, a falling, a single instant, the briefest action, changing it all."

The Harpy is not a quiet novel so much as it is a simmering one. Confronted by her husband's infidelity, Lucy is left discombobulated, unsure what, exactly, she is supposed to do. There is a lot in this novel about the small but accumulative indignities of motherhood, the way Lucy constantly feels subject to the barbs of not being enough: as a mother, as a wife, as a homemaker. In particular, she struggles to address a low-level malaise and restlessness that seem to pervade the routines of her very middle-class, very unexceptional everyday life.

"In this place, most husbands had highly paid jobs, travelled a lot. Most wives, despite their multiple degrees, did all the school runs, counted the days until their men returned from Stockholm or Singapore. When something broke through - a disease, a death, a divorce - it was like a meteorite, something cosmic landing in our lives."

And then, in the midst of all this already-existing turmoil, Lucy finds herself thrust in the role of the Cheated-On Woman. "Role," here, is a resonant word, for Lucy is keenly aware that the story of her husband's infidelity belongs to the wider, all-too-common story of husbands cheating on their wives. How, then, is she to act? How to absorb the shock of this revelation into the the family she has with her husband, her two young sons? The novel as a whole is an answer to those questions, though it's certainly not a simple or uncomplicated one.

"I could not think of a way to confront Jake that did not feel scripted, stilted, too cheesy or on the nose. I could fling myself at him, pummel his chest with my fists, demand that he tell me everything. I could, carefully and without crying, cut every single one of his work shirts into shreds."

Tying these themes together is the harpy, a creature from Greek and Roman mythology, a winged predator, half-woman, half-bird. Hunter's choice to align Lucy's unexceptional life with this exceptional creature is compelling—more importantly, though, it works. It gives what might've otherwise been a trite, overdone story an edge and a more fresh outlook.

Though I typically tend to avoid novels that seem to be about people wallowing in their sadness because their (fairly privileged) middle-class lives are too boring for them :(((, I didn't find that to be the case with The Harpy. It kept me engaged, and I really sympathized with Lucy. It's a short novel with short chapters and writing that is simple but effective, one that, in the end, is about identity and violence as they intersect and unfold in the realms of motherhood and marriage.

Thanks so much to Grove Atlantic for providing me with an e-ARC of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review!