By Liz Soares
This is a suspenseful, thrilling and deliciously evil book, made all the more so by the seemingly prosaic lives (even their names are mundane) of the main characters.
Jodi is a psychologist who lives in a gorgeous penthouse in Chicago with her husband, Todd, a property developer, and their golden retriever, Freud.
Jodi lives a charmed existence. She works part-time from home, and picks and chooses her clients. Jodi is a perfectionist in all areas of her life, and does not want to deal with people who, say, might commit suicide.
She has plenty of time to keep fit and prepare elaborate meals. An appetizer of smoked trout and crackers is followed by an entrée of beef Wellington—and why not?
Jodi’s home is spotless and her fashion sense is impeccable. She knows Todd is a philanderer, but as long as his extramarital dalliances don’t intersect, however gently, with her magazine-cover fantasy relationship, she is content to look the other way.
Worlds collide when Todd’s college student girlfriend gets pregnant. Todd’s long suppressed desire to be a father surfaces, and he glides out of the posh penthouse into the arms of the increasingly demanding and shrewish Natasha.
Their story is told in alternating chapters, which will remind readers of the bestselling thriller Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. The theme, too, of a marriage gone wrong, echoes Flynn’s novel. But The Silent Wife, otherwise, is a force unto itself.
The two make an unlikely couple. Todd is a big, brash man, the son of an alcoholic. He’s created a successful business doing what he loves to do. Todd appreciates Jodi’s efforts in the kitchen, but, truth be told, he’s just as happy knocking down burgers and beers at his favorite bar.
Todd is a sex addict who can’t look at a woman without calculating her potential in bed. He is frequently in denial about all aspects of his life, and his self-chatter can get quite humorous at times. He’s deserted his wife and become fed up with his young mistress, so why not become obsessed with a skinny, lackluster woman with greasy hair, a waitress at a dive bar? “What he’d like to do was lead her into the men’s room and lock the door.”
Jodi grew up in a family structured by routine and orderliness. Her father was a respected pharmacist, and she helped out in his drugstore. Jodi is precise and cool. Shortly after she hears about Todd’s infidelity, she makes him Ovaltine and toast—“she butters it, spreads it with strawberry jam, and cuts it into triangles.”
The effect is, perhaps, a little more than she anticipates, but still spot-on, considering the circumstances.
Jodi’s polish cracks when the bitter truth about Todd can no longer be ignored. His betrayal is one thing, but if he leaves her penniless, that’s quite another. Jodi falls apart. She hits rock bottom. We know she is upset, really upset, when she eats shortbread cookies out of the box. Or when “slipping into a four-hundred-thread-count Italian shirt and doing up the pearly buttons” leaves her cold.
When she finally resurfaces, a friend devises a plan that could save her lifestyle.
The scheme proceeds smoothly, perhaps too much so. But the fallout is not what Jodi expects. A final, surprising, and yet perfectly reasonable twist leaves only one member of the couple standing.
A.S.A. Harrison died last year, leaving The Silent Wife as her only fictional work. The fans she has made with this book have much to mourn. (View a trailer for the novel here.)
Jodi is a psychologist who lives in a gorgeous penthouse in Chicago with her husband, Todd, a property developer, and their golden retriever, Freud.
Jodi lives a charmed existence. She works part-time from home, and picks and chooses her clients. Jodi is a perfectionist in all areas of her life, and does not want to deal with people who, say, might commit suicide.
She has plenty of time to keep fit and prepare elaborate meals. An appetizer of smoked trout and crackers is followed by an entrée of beef Wellington—and why not?
Jodi’s home is spotless and her fashion sense is impeccable. She knows Todd is a philanderer, but as long as his extramarital dalliances don’t intersect, however gently, with her magazine-cover fantasy relationship, she is content to look the other way.
Worlds collide when Todd’s college student girlfriend gets pregnant. Todd’s long suppressed desire to be a father surfaces, and he glides out of the posh penthouse into the arms of the increasingly demanding and shrewish Natasha.
Their story is told in alternating chapters, which will remind readers of the bestselling thriller Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. The theme, too, of a marriage gone wrong, echoes Flynn’s novel. But The Silent Wife, otherwise, is a force unto itself.
The two make an unlikely couple. Todd is a big, brash man, the son of an alcoholic. He’s created a successful business doing what he loves to do. Todd appreciates Jodi’s efforts in the kitchen, but, truth be told, he’s just as happy knocking down burgers and beers at his favorite bar.
Todd is a sex addict who can’t look at a woman without calculating her potential in bed. He is frequently in denial about all aspects of his life, and his self-chatter can get quite humorous at times. He’s deserted his wife and become fed up with his young mistress, so why not become obsessed with a skinny, lackluster woman with greasy hair, a waitress at a dive bar? “What he’d like to do was lead her into the men’s room and lock the door.”
Jodi grew up in a family structured by routine and orderliness. Her father was a respected pharmacist, and she helped out in his drugstore. Jodi is precise and cool. Shortly after she hears about Todd’s infidelity, she makes him Ovaltine and toast—“she butters it, spreads it with strawberry jam, and cuts it into triangles.”
The effect is, perhaps, a little more than she anticipates, but still spot-on, considering the circumstances.
Jodi’s polish cracks when the bitter truth about Todd can no longer be ignored. His betrayal is one thing, but if he leaves her penniless, that’s quite another. Jodi falls apart. She hits rock bottom. We know she is upset, really upset, when she eats shortbread cookies out of the box. Or when “slipping into a four-hundred-thread-count Italian shirt and doing up the pearly buttons” leaves her cold.
When she finally resurfaces, a friend devises a plan that could save her lifestyle.
The scheme proceeds smoothly, perhaps too much so. But the fallout is not what Jodi expects. A final, surprising, and yet perfectly reasonable twist leaves only one member of the couple standing.
A.S.A. Harrison died last year, leaving The Silent Wife as her only fictional work. The fans she has made with this book have much to mourn. (View a trailer for the novel here.)
