
Book #94 of 2024:
The Husbands by Holly Gramazio
I was initially charmed but ultimately dissatisfied with this paths-not-taken novel, in which an unmarried London woman suddenly finds a husband of several years sharing her flat. No sooner has he arrived than he’s gone again, replaced by yet another stranger — for it turns out that the attic of her home has somehow become the trigger for this uncanny revolving door, and every time her current partner climbs up the ladder, reality shifts so that the heroine is married to somebody new climbing back down.
Gradually she realizes that her recent past is being rewritten entirely with each new spouse; although she retains her memories throughout, everyone else immediately forgets and she keeps discovering she’s inadvertently altered some detail like her job or her friend group dynamic along with the change in fellow. (The idea seems to be that she’s repeatedly displacing some different universe’s version of herself, but that element isn’t really addressed. It does have troubling implications for how frequently she empties her bank account, quits her career, or otherwise acts rashly under the justification that she’ll soon be moving on to a new blank slate of circumstances, however.)
I don’t necessarily need a story’s protagonist to be likable, but this one is pretty selfish and cruel throughout. She has to drug one husband to get him to go back into the attic, and threaten to shoot another. On several occasions, she abuses her knowledge of people she was close with in a previous life to break into their houses and steal from them, and of course, she’s keeping her predicament / ability a secret from everybody the entire time. She’s also often obnoxiously shallow, rejecting certain spouses on sight without even getting to know why some iteration of her would have fallen in love and married the guys. Over the course of several months, she winds up going through literal hundreds of them in this way.
The plot is relatively engaging — though the ending is a bit abrupt — and I think the piece as a whole works well as a bitter commentary on modern dating apps, which likewise encourage folks to churn through romantic options and make superficial snap judgements to swipe away prospective matches they might have been perfectly happy with. But it’s not much fun to read, or even clear what sort of outcome we should be rooting for as we go along.
★★★☆☆
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