Mrs. Everything – Jennifer Weiner
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
‣ sista, siiiista
‣ detroit, but like no black people lmao
‣ so many stages of womanhood
‣ historical inaccuracy everywhere
"She loved [her daughters]. More than that, she admired them. They would be better than she was."
I’ve spent this week reading Mrs. Everything. According to the back cover, Good Housekeeping calls the novel “Simply unputdownable.” If someone had been watching me this week, they could certainly use me as evidence that this is true. I took the book with me into the bathtub; I stayed up late reading it, and woke up thinking about whether I had time for a chapter. Jennifer Weiner is an accomplished writer, but this is the first of her works I’ve read. She’s captures womanhood beautifully, delivering it with grace, covering decades of American history. With the plot points that cover the difficulties, Jennifer explains general concepts, but also delves into the nuances, offering a perspective that is known, but oft glossed over. With the joys of the novel, Jennifer unabashedly gushes. Our characters love, and dare to do so with bare hearts.
The novel is well-structured. The beginning is easy to fall into. The description of setting is strong, amplified by Jennifer’s early use of Jo and Bethie’s young ages as a way to observe, and narrate, details only our youngest characters have time to reflect on. We get to see how family functions in the minds of our leading ladies; how it cements roots that extend beyond their parents’ imaginations. The novel then grows with Bethie and Jo, follows them as they age.
I love the novel mostly for its truth. The women show personality. They are brave in ways I can’t imagine, but then, like the women I know, they are also fearful. They depend on each other and on themselves, but rarely, if ever, on men. The fail, and sometimes, they don’t get up again (at least not in conventional ways). They conform. They whine. They are defeated. This novel is inspiring for the ways in which victory isn’t presented as this once-in-a-lifetime thing. It shows growth we sometimes forget has happened. It made me think about the stats I’ve memorized (1 in 5 women are raped, 1 in 4 will have an abortion by 45), and what they mean for the people around me. I am grateful for this novel, and to Jennifer Weiner for writing it.
I can’t give an honest review without noting Jennifer’s faults. The novel spans from 1950 to 2022, and is well over 400 pages long. Its setting includes Detroit, Atlanta, and New York. Still, one can count the number of people of color on their fingers. Arguably, the only memorable non-white character is Harold. His role is fairly boring—the kind, strong black man; the quiet, supportive husband. While I can see how it would be outrageous to make the token black guy villainous, she doesn’t really give him much personality either.
Race, specifically the lack of its diversity in the novel, is a notable fault because of what Jennifer does choose to mention. It is a novel about women, about gender. It is a political novel. It touches the parts of our identities that are political, the reasons politics have been, and will always be, personal. Yet Jennifer glosses over race. There are brief mentions of Motown and of Harold being a PK, but cultural references stop there. There is subtle racism, from many characters, including Sarah, but nothing that is central to the story. Multiple people are described for their “creamy” skin, but I can’t remember any other skin tones . The main characters are Jewish women. While their Judaism is definitely noted, it takes the back burner to every other aspect of who they are. Intersectionality exists, and I think it’s fair for me to expect Jennifer to note it, granted the other concepts she so artfully manages to blend into her stories.
Overall, I give the novel five stars. Mrs. Everything has been one of my favorite reads of the year. I borrowed this copy from the library, but it’s one I see myself buying a copy of, and recommending. Bookstagram hype can be a hit or miss for me, but this one hit the ball out of the park, and I’m so glad I picked it.