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A review by ptstewart
The Push by Ashley Audrain
5.0
This book is so hard. The Push is a thriller, yes, but it’s about so much more, and it’s beautifully crafted. (A note here: it is not a thriller in the way that one may generally consider a thriller. There is not gigantic payoff, nor any major twist. Rather we watch a woman’s identity and life unravel over her judgment—which we are unsure is accurate—of her daughter’s nature).
Firstly, the choice to address the reader in second person is extremely bold, and it runs the risk of being handled poorly. However, Audrain’s decision here is extremely impressive, and creates greater depth for the overarching conflict of the novel. The psychological validity of the main character is also expertly crafted: do we trust her judgment? Her memories? She certainly doubts herself sometimes, and her partner barely believes her at all.
The Push, however, is so much more meaningful than many psychological thrillers. Underneath the darkest layers are genuine and relatable experiences that mothers (and women who are not mothers) go through: what happens when we experience postpartum depression? What does that mean for our qualifications as mothers? Are we alone in the difficulties that extend beyond sleep deprivation or colic toward disconnection from our child? Included, further, is not the tale of an abusive husband, but a neglectful one who chooses the child over his partner, causing them all to deal with the fallout. Neglect, mistrust, and poor participation are unfathomably harmful.
The Push is phenomenal, and it reminded me of all the fears I have about motherhood in the most horrific and impressive ways. I had to sit in silence for several minutes after I finished because the experience of Blythe—even in a less traumatic situation—is one with which so many women identify and grapple. I feel too effected to adequately respond or review further, but I do believe as a work of fiction, this piece ought to be celebrated.
*On an unrelated note, I only understood the title after I finished it, which speaks either to my confusion or how wrapped up I was in the story that I could not sus out the finer details.*
Firstly, the choice to address the reader in second person is extremely bold, and it runs the risk of being handled poorly. However, Audrain’s decision here is extremely impressive, and creates greater depth for the overarching conflict of the novel. The psychological validity of the main character is also expertly crafted: do we trust her judgment? Her memories? She certainly doubts herself sometimes, and her partner barely believes her at all.
The Push, however, is so much more meaningful than many psychological thrillers. Underneath the darkest layers are genuine and relatable experiences that mothers (and women who are not mothers) go through: what happens when we experience postpartum depression? What does that mean for our qualifications as mothers? Are we alone in the difficulties that extend beyond sleep deprivation or colic toward disconnection from our child? Included, further, is not the tale of an abusive husband, but a neglectful one who chooses the child over his partner, causing them all to deal with the fallout. Neglect, mistrust, and poor participation are unfathomably harmful.
The Push is phenomenal, and it reminded me of all the fears I have about motherhood in the most horrific and impressive ways. I had to sit in silence for several minutes after I finished because the experience of Blythe—even in a less traumatic situation—is one with which so many women identify and grapple. I feel too effected to adequately respond or review further, but I do believe as a work of fiction, this piece ought to be celebrated.
*On an unrelated note, I only understood the title after I finished it, which speaks either to my confusion or how wrapped up I was in the story that I could not sus out the finer details.*