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A review by bookph1le
The Perfect Mother by Aimee Molloy
1.0
Okay, when am I going to learn? I mean, really, when am I going to learn? The hype monster strikes, I read the book, and I am so underwhelmed I feel confused and disoriented. Did I read the same book I've seen getting so much glowing praise? Minor spoilers ahead.
I can sum this book up in one word: insipid. The characters are all stock and wooden. Not a single one of them felt like a real person to me, ever. The villain was even worse, about as cartoonish as it's possible to get. You know, the kind of villain that, when they're uncovered, you roll your eyes and go, "Of course that's who did it. Because why create an actual, complicated villain? Why not just go the overused, tired, and flat-out terrible cray-cray route?" It's no wonder stigmas about mental illness remain even in this day and age, given how often utterly lazy media resort to them as the culprits. I am far, far beyond annoyed at the terrible and completely factually inaccurate way mental illness is still treated in so many books, movies, etc.
There were some big ideas in this book. It wanted to say some things about how women are treated by society, and mothers in particular, but the problem is, it basically takes every stereotype about women out there and uses them as plot points--especially when it comes to the antagonist. Every female character in this book does inexplicable things that are bound to come across as shady. I get that the suspense element means it's supposed to throw some red herrings out there to make the reader wonder if maybe there's something to the suspicions people have about these women, but all the book does in the end is make those suspicions seem justified, even after the truth is revealed. Every last female character comes across as irrational and erratic, particularly Francie. Small wonder no one takes them seriously. I sure didn't.
Honestly, I'm not even sure what this book was trying to do, other than be exactly the top of potboiler publishers can't seem to get enough of cranking out these days. I'm not going to blame Gone Girl, which I thought really worked as a novel, but it is unfortunate that the success of that book encouraged publishers to ride this gravy train until it runs out of tracks, with the end result being that longtime readers of mysteries and thrillers like me end up feeling as if we're being bilked.
I can sum this book up in one word: insipid. The characters are all stock and wooden. Not a single one of them felt like a real person to me, ever. The villain was even worse, about as cartoonish as it's possible to get. You know, the kind of villain that, when they're uncovered, you roll your eyes and go, "Of course that's who did it. Because why create an actual, complicated villain? Why not just go the overused, tired, and flat-out terrible cray-cray route?" It's no wonder stigmas about mental illness remain even in this day and age, given how often utterly lazy media resort to them as the culprits. I am far, far beyond annoyed at the terrible and completely factually inaccurate way mental illness is still treated in so many books, movies, etc.
There were some big ideas in this book. It wanted to say some things about how women are treated by society, and mothers in particular, but the problem is, it basically takes every stereotype about women out there and uses them as plot points--especially when it comes to the antagonist. Every female character in this book does inexplicable things that are bound to come across as shady. I get that the suspense element means it's supposed to throw some red herrings out there to make the reader wonder if maybe there's something to the suspicions people have about these women, but all the book does in the end is make those suspicions seem justified, even after the truth is revealed. Every last female character comes across as irrational and erratic, particularly Francie. Small wonder no one takes them seriously. I sure didn't.
Honestly, I'm not even sure what this book was trying to do, other than be exactly the top of potboiler publishers can't seem to get enough of cranking out these days. I'm not going to blame Gone Girl, which I thought really worked as a novel, but it is unfortunate that the success of that book encouraged publishers to ride this gravy train until it runs out of tracks, with the end result being that longtime readers of mysteries and thrillers like me end up feeling as if we're being bilked.