Thriller savours the questions as much as the answers
Single-sitting read was written with an unflinching eye and a stylistically sharp, tight economy
In the summer of 2019, Toronto writer Ashley Audrain made headlines as rights to her novel “The Push” sold in almost two dozen countries in under two weeks, a nearly unprecedented success for a debut writer.
In an interview with the Star, Audrain — who started the novel while on maternity leave from her former position as publicity director for Penguin Books Canada — described “The Push” as “a psychological drama told through the lens of motherhood.” Several questions remained: What was “The Push” actually about? And, honestly, how was the book?
Now, a year and a half later, those questions can be answered. In brief, “The Push” is a stunning, compelling read, more than deserving of its pre-publica
tion attention (and deals).
As to what it’s about? Well, that’s a little more tricky.
“The Push” begins with a prologue, in which an unidentified narrator, a woman, watches through the front window as a family enjoys the Christmas season. The tone is ominous without being blatant: Within the first few sentences, Audrain taps into the primal fear of domestic violation, of being watched by a stranger. As the prologue ends, she picks up a stack of papers from the passenger seat. “I’ve come here to give this to you,” she says. “This is my side of the story.”
The narrator is a woman named Blythe. The “you” is Fox, her husband. Blythe is an aspiring writer, Fox a buttoned-up architect, and the story of their early days is one of romance and happy cohabitation. Everything changes, though, when they decide to start a family. Blythe has never wanted children, having suffered through a childhood of neglect and alienation from her own mother. Fox, however, is so keen to be a father he eventually wins Blythe over, against her better judgment.
When their daughter Violet is born, it seems Blythe’s reluctance may have been justified. Mother and daughter fail to bond. It is only when their son Sam is born that Blythe finds joy in her motherhood.
As time passes, something begins to seem off about Violet; a coldness, a calculating silence, which Blythe is the only one to notice. Is there something wrong with Violet or is it all in Blythe’s imagination?
While these questions form the spine of “The Push,” the novel doesn’t unfold in any way the reader might anticipate; Audrain savours the questions as much as the answers and, as Violet grows older, the ground beneath Blythe’s feet — and the reader’s confidence in the veracity of the narrative — grows unsteady, slippery.
Is this a novel of an evil or sick child or is it about a woman driven to the breaking point by the weight of her past? Is Fox a more rational observer of events or is he gaslighting Blythe?
Written with an unflinching eye and a stylistically sharp, tight economy, “The Push” is a single-sitting read, as suspenseful as any thriller, as thoughtful as any literary novel, with an almost physical force behind each of its turns and revelations.
By the end, the reader will feel wrung out in the way only the best of books leaves you. Audrain’s debut is a stunning, devastating novel and, frankly, one hell of a way to start a year of reading.