Mrs March

Very different to my usual kind of read – and strangely compelling! Mrs March reaps the rewards of her husband’s successful career as a novelist. Living in a luxury apartment on the Upper East Side she thrives on the attention his latest book brings her way. Calling in at her favourite bakery each morning, she is upset at the staff’s assumption that his main character – a prostitute, no less – is based on his wife. That’s her last visit to the shop, depriving her of her favourite olive bread each day. As she begins to probe, she realises there are more thing she isn’t aware of. Mrs March – I wondered if we’d ever get to find out her first name – is a bit of a lonely creature. I wasn’t sure of the period this was set in; the lady herself is either living in or is a product of the 1950’s and 1960’s. With rigid ideas on the proper way of doing things, she sticks to her fur coat and dated style. Doing things properly is very important to her. Notably, while she thrives off the fame and fortune her husband’s new book brings, she doesn’t actually read it herself. As the story progresses we live inside the mind of Mrs March, and a rather weird place it is to be. With spots of humour, this is a cleverly constructed novel which keeps the reader on their toes and quite unable to put it down. I can’t put my finger on what made me stay with this one, but it is not easily forgotten. For me, this is a four star read.