Name: Mrs. March
Rating: 3.407407407407407 (27 reviews)
ISBN: 9781631498619

Virginia Feito

A twenty-first-century Highsmith, Virginia Feito conjures the unforgettable Mrs. March, an Upper East Side housewife whose life is shattered by her husband's latest novel.

Mrs. March

La señora March / Mrs. March

la señora march es insoportable y el final de la historia predecible, esperaba closure en algunos temas pero al final no hubo nada

esme villanueva

Shirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoia

Mrs March

3.5 very tense and gripping. Found the ending just the slightest bit predictable

Shirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoia George March's latest novel is a smash hit. None could be prouder than Mrs. March, his dutiful wife, who revels in his accolades and relishes the lifestyle and status his success brings. A creature of routine and decorum, Mrs. March lives an exquisitely controlled existence on the Upper East Side. Every morning begins the same way, with a visit to her favourite patisserie to buy a loaf of olive bread, but her latest trip proves to be her last when she suffers an indignity from which she may never recover: an assumption by the shopkeeper that the protagonist in George March's new book - a pathetic sex worker, more a figure of derision than desire - is based on Mrs. March. One casual remark robs Mrs. March not only of her beloved olive bread but of the belief that she knew everything about her husband - and herself - sending her on an increasingly paranoid journey, one that starts within the pages of a book but may very well uncover both a killer and the long-buried secrets of Mrs. March's past. A razor-sharp exploration of the fragility of identity and the smothering weight of expectations, Mrs. March heralds the arrival of a wicked and wonderful new voice.

much to think about, especially with regards to the tradition of women who hallucinate. many people have compared it to Shirley Jackson and Daphne du Maurier, but I would perhaps say it aspires to be more Gone Girl/The Girl on the Train rather than a true gothic horror. 

the book at times feels almost too focused on translating literal action into a visual medium, almost as if the author is forcing us to imagine it as a film - in some cases it works well, but in this case it ends up being too unfocused and cartoonish, especially towards the ending. 

Kwan Ann Tan

much to think about, especially with regards to the tradition of women who hallucinate. many people have compared it to Shirley Jackson and Daphne du Maurier, but I would perhaps say it aspires to be more Gone Girl/The Girl on the Train rather than a true gothic horror. 

the book at times feels almost too focused on translating literal action into a visual medium, almost as if the author is forcing us to imagine it as a film - in some cases it works well, but in this case it ends up being too unfocused and cartoonish, especially towards the ending. 

Maggie

“Why do I feel like she exists and I don’t?”

Like Nightbitch, minus any hope or happiness.

I enjoyed trying to figure out what the inciting incident was. Motherhood? Her husband wring her into his novel as a “whore?” Or that that “whore” was unattractive? Certainly violence lived within her for a long time, but what is the tipping point? Maybe she feels she’s being forced to change her carefully curated identity, an identity built around someone else. Maybe violence is how she finds herself.

George March’s latest novel is a smash. No one could be prouder than his dutiful wife, Mrs. March, who revels in his accolades. A careful creature of routine and decorum, she lives a precariously controlled existence on the Upper East Side until one morning, when the shopkeeper of her favorite patisserie suggests that her husband’s latest protagonist—a detestable character named Johanna—is based on Mrs. March herself. Clutching her ostrich leather pocketbook and mint-colored gloves, she flees the shop. What could have merited this humiliation?
That one casual remark robs Mrs. March of the belief that she knew everything about her husband—and herself—thus sending her on an increasingly paranoid journey that begins within the pages of a book. While snooping in George’s office, Mrs. March finds a newspaper clipping about a missing woman. Did George have anything to do with her disappearance? He’s been going on a lot of “hunting trips” up north with his editor lately, leaving Mrs. March all alone at night with her tormented thoughts, and the cockroaches that have suddenly started to appear, and strange breathing noises . . . As she begins to decode her husband’s secrets, her deafening anxiety and fierce determination threaten everyone in her wake—including her stoic housekeeper, Martha, and her unobtrusive son, Jonathan, whom she loves so profoundly, when she remembers to love him at all.
Combining a Hitchcockian sensibility with wickedly dark humor, Virginia Feito, a brilliantly talented and, at times, mischievous newcomer, offers a razor-sharp exploration of the fragility of identity. A mesmerizing novel of psychological suspense and casebook insecurity turned full-blown neurosis, Mrs. March will have you second-guessing your own seemingly familiar reflection in the mirror.

A Novel

Leila

Draculelle

Suso

Jemima Scott

Sara Holman

Navya R

mariola

“I read Virginia’s novel in one sitting and was so captured by it I knew I had to make it and play Mrs. March. As a character, she is fascinating, complex, and deeply human and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into her.” —Elisabeth Moss Who is Mrs. March? George March’s latest novel is a smash. No one could be prouder than his dutiful wife, Mrs. March, who revels in his accolades. A careful creature of routine and decorum, she lives a precariously controlled existence on the Upper East Side until one morning, when the shopkeeper of her favorite patisserie suggests that her husband’s latest protagonist—a detestable character named Johanna—is based on Mrs. March herself. Clutching her ostrich leather pocketbook and mint-colored gloves, she flees the shop. What could have merited this humiliation? That one casual remark robs Mrs. March of the belief that she knew everything about her husband—and herself—thus sending her on an increasingly paranoid journey that begins within the pages of a book. While snooping in George’s office, Mrs. March finds a newspaper clipping about a missing woman. Did George have anything to do with her disappearance? He’s been going on a lot of “hunting trips” up north with his editor lately, leaving Mrs. March all alone at night with her tormented thoughts, and the cockroaches that have suddenly started to appear, and strange breathing noises . . . As she begins to decode her husband’s secrets, her deafening anxiety and fierce determination threaten everyone in her wake—including her stoic housekeeper, Martha, and her unobtrusive son, Jonathan, whom she loves so profoundly, when she remembers to love him at all. Combining a Hitchcockian sensibility with wickedly dark humor, Virginia Feito, a brilliantly talented and, at times, mischievous newcomer, offers a razor-sharp exploration of the fragility of identity. A mesmerizing novel of psychological suspense and casebook insecurity turned full-blown neurosis, Mrs. March will have you second-guessing your own seemingly familiar reflection in the mirror.

Mrs. March

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