logo

60 pages 2 hours read

Mary Kubica

The Other Mrs.

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2020

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Themes

Childhood Abuse and Trauma in the Domestic Noir

Literature and film have often been employed as a space to safely explore troubling topics like childhood abuse and trauma. While nonfiction is one type of literature popularly used to explore these topics, crime fiction’s emerging subgenre “domestic noir” is another fertile site. Not only does domestic noir allow for the exploration of abuse and trauma, but it often provides an empowering resolution, as justice is typically achieved by the female protagonist.

A 21st-century phenomenon with roots tracing back to 18th-century gothic literature, domestic noir is written primarily by women (or men adopting female or gender-neutral pseudonyms) and concentrates on “domestic” spaces of work and home. These stories typically feature a strong yet vulnerable female protagonist who must use her intellectual and often physical strength to solve a mystery and protect herself and her family. The main conflict often revolves around secretive or dangerous work or family relationships. Childhood abuse and trauma occur at the heart of the toxic families that populate domestic noir. The abuse is done in the privacy of the home and often results in feelings of shame on the part of the abused. Silence and secrecy are often part of the toxic mix, especially when children are so often rendered invisible and mute in patriarchal societies.

The Other Mrs. is a novel that explores different domestic-abuse scenarios and their consequences. Mouse’s chapters that detail her stepmother’s emotional and physical abuse are at the core of the novel because these scenes are the inciting incident for Sadie splitting into alters. These chapters use fairy-tale language like “once upon a time” and “happily ever after” to heighten the contrast between a healthy home situation and the one the Mouse endures. Fairy-tale motifs also distinguish between contemporary domestic noirs and their predecessors; while Mouse is a victim who cannot defend herself, Sadie emerges as a domestic noir heroine and saves her family.

While never described in detail (except for the animal abuse that the child is forced to witness), it is clear that Mouse suffers extreme physical and psychological abuse from Fake Mom and that her father is unable or unwilling to protect his daughter. This inability of a parent to protect a child continues into the next generation, when Sadie is unable to make her children feel physically or emotionally safe because of her memory lapses, during which Mouse or Camille interact with them. Her inability to remember the statue game she (or Mouse) plays with Tate causes him to lash out at her and call her a liar. Her inability to remember that she (or Camille) helped Otto plan murderous revenge on his bullies is a major betrayal for him. While we do not see Mouse seek retribution against Fake Mom, Sadie solving the crime and killing Will is the kind of justice anticipated by readers of this type of fiction. Mouse is involved in this resolution, as Sadie is not charged with a crime and is on the path to reintegration and healing.

Female Resilience in the 21st-Century Thriller

Women writing women characters is not a specifically 21st-century phenomenon, but contemporary efforts have brought aspects of feminism and feminist writing into the heart of popular fiction. Novels featuring gutsy female leads can be found in various genres, such as fantasy, sci-fi, YA, and psychological thrillers. YA fiction has had standout characters, such as The Hunger Games’ Katniss Everdeen or Divergent’s Beatrice Prior. These female protagonists fight against the oppression of authoritarian governments and the ineptitude of adults within patriarchal and misogynistic settings. The domestic noir is another genre that has given birth to resilient female leads who must solve mysteries and break the silence to protect their families and themselves.

The domestic setting is traditionally a female space in literature. Writers such as Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters show how female resistance and resilience can be infused into this domestic space, even when it exists within a patriarchal society. Women characters can be seen having agency over matters of marriage, education, and social functions like balls. While the domestic spaces of the novel might, at times, trap or limit a woman, they also provide spaces of safety and belonging. Domestic noir subverts these conventions; the home is a place of uncertainty and danger, and the most fundamental relationships—husband and wife or mother and child—can no longer be trusted.

Upon arriving on the island in Maine, Sadie is reluctant to enter the house, and her narration subverts the idea of home as a refuge. She notes, “There’s something off about the house” (13), and when she finally follows her family into the building, it smells “musty,” the furnishings are “dark and dreary,” and the space is “unwelcoming” (13). The street is too quiet, and the house next door becomes the setting for disturbing dreams in which she loses her spatial grounding. Morgan is brutally murdered in her home, reinforcing the prevalence of domestic violence and foreshadowing the reveal that Will is a murderer and abuser. Other dangers in Sadie’s home include surveillance; Will spies on her internet searches from another room, and she herself surveils her children, to the point that Imogen puts a lock on her bedroom door and tells Sadie to stay out. The Other Mrs. paints Sadie as a morally complicated protagonist, preventing her from neatly occupying the stereotypical heroine role and highlighting the way abuse begets abuse.

Both Sadie and Imogen have experienced severe trauma in their lives. Sadie was abused by her stepmother, and Imogen was manipulated by her mother, who forced her to participate in her suicide. These traumas have altered these women, but the text has them overcome this trauma through female solidarity. While Sadie is a vulnerable and insecure character who “outsources” difficult past or present situations to her alters, she is determined to clear her name and save her family, ultimately doing so by aligning with Imogen. For her part, Imogen performs acts of teenage rebellion such as smoking and ditching classes, but she also seeks out the support of the only maternal figure left in her life, her aunt Sadie. Despite Sadie’s desire to focus on solving the murder mystery, she drops what she is doing and immediately meets Imogen in the graveyard in a moment of crisis. While physically fit, Sadie is much smaller and weaker than Will, yet she fights him ferociously in the climactic kitchen scene. Imogen comes to Sadie’s aid not only physically, by hitting Will, but also legally, by recording his confession. Neither could have stopped him alone, but together they succeed, emphasizing the role of solidarity in defeating abusers, especially among women.

The novel’s last entry finds Sadie and all three children on a Californian beach, finally getting to experience their fresh start. Imogen is seen talking and laughing with Otto, the wind blowing through her long hair in her first carefree moment in the book. Her ease in this scene represents her character development and the sort of healing that can take place now that she is safe. Sadie likewise has a new psychiatrist and has begun the process of healing her childhood and marital trauma. Her last thoughts in the novel point to the strength and resilience of her boys, of Imogen, and of herself: “If time can turn something so undesired into something so loved, the same can happen to all of us. The same can happen to me. It’s happening already” (418). These last scenes in therapy acknowledge that a tidy catharsis makes for a satisfying thriller, but it’s not enough to undo the effects that a novel’s worth of violence leaves on its characters. Sadie’s efforts to heal and rebuild her family’s life point to the work required to heal from domestic violence, in real life and in fiction.

Lies and Secrets as Family Dynamics

Family conflict is a major feature in many of the psychological thrillers written by woman authors like Mary Kubica. It is difficult to point to a major (or even minor) character in The Other Mrs. who does not have a secret or lie to keep that secret hidden. These are not secrets and lies told to the general public but rather ones that exist in the heart of the domestic sphere, the family.

The word “lie” (or variants of it) is used many times in this story, most often by the protagonist herself. Sadie accuses the Nilssons of lying about seeing her fight with Morgan, and she accuses Officer Berg of lying when he pokes holes in her alibi. She accuses her husband several times of lying about the affair she is certain he had in Chicago—after all, she does not smoke or wear the shade of lipstick or the kind of lingerie she finds. She accuses her sons of lying about things she is unable to remember because they were done by her alters, Camille and Mouse. When Otto explains it was her idea for him to bring the knife to class, Sadie believes he has told a “bold faced lie” (110) and wonders: “How did he possibly think anyone would fall for that lie?” (110). Sadie is called a liar by both of her sons when she is unable to remember the statue game or the knife incident. But these lies are connected to the secret at the heart of Sadie’s existence: her dissociative identity disorder. She does not mean to lie to her sons, and in a way she is not lying, because she genuinely cannot remember what happens when her alters emerge and she leaves. This points to the way people, especially family members, can harm others without intending to. By contrast, Will does know about her alters but fails to reveal this to Sadie because he enjoys that she is easy to manipulate. Will’s lies are intentional and harmful, done to further his own aims. The contrast between these two types of lies is strengthened through each character’s first-person narration; Sadie’s chapters are confused and scattered, while Will’s are deliberate and sadistic.

Sadie, like Will, uses lies as a kind of protective shield, although she does not possess his expertise. One person she lies to consistently is Imogen, in part because she believes she is dangerous. When her forgotten wineglass provides evidence that she is snooping in Imogen’s room, Sadie explains, “My gut instinct is to lie” (136); however, she immediately contradicts herself, saying she strains for a lie: “I’ve never been a very good liar” (137). Sadie’s discomfort with actively lying alludes to the idea that deceit will not solve her problems; most of the book’s resolutions come from revealing the truth rather than concealing it.

Secrets and lies are key to building suspense and reader interest in any thriller. While The Other Mrs.’s use of DID as a plot device is problematic and plays into harmful tropes about the condition, Kubica uses it to deepen questions about truth and lies in the book. Mouse’s persona keeps Sadie’s childhood abuse a secret so she can survive into adulthood. Camille is the darker side of Sadie’s personality, her Hyde to Sadie’s Jekyll, and the divide between their memories allows Kubica to lead Sadie down false investigatory paths. The text’s unreliable narrators work similarly, maintaining the layers of secrecy and lies that must be unraveled for Sadie to achieve justice and begin healing.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text