I am an active reader. Whenever I pick up a book, I hope to find something that I can grasp onto that will give me a more profound understanding of character motivations or (at the very least) I hope to learn something new. A character might go through an experience that I can relate to, or have a familiar attitude. In the case of historical fiction novels, it might be details about a little-known event.
Sometimes, however, I learn something more profound about myself that I did not expect. That was the case as I read The Forgotten Wife.
On the surface, it is the story of two women who find strength in each other as they transition from being new neighbors to good friends. I liked how each of the women, Shelley and Lara, were fully realized characters with distinct personalities. I appreciated how the author crafted their introductions so that the reader got to know the women gradually (as they did with each other). It made me feel like I was a third party to their friendship, not just an outside observer.
I also thought the author did a fantastic job of keeping the realism in the women’s stories, again, rolled out naturally as one would divulge in a new friend. Both women had revelations and realizations about each other and themselves as they opened up to each other. But this is where it got interesting for me.
I have been fortunate never to have experienced either of the events that affected these women, which allowed me to read their stories without becoming emotionally involved. That’s not to say that I didn’t empathize with them, because I absolutely did. But I did not have the background that would have hit me on a deeper level. I have read comments on this book where people were bawling their eyes out or so emotional that they had to stop reading for a time.
I found that this stopped me in my tracks. After thinking about it for a while, I realized that I was one of the people who Shelley and Lara both knew. The person who was aware of what happened to them, but didn’t have a personal connection to the event itself.
This struck me as strange because I still felt for them. I enjoyed being a part of their bonding (loved the clothing scenes) and experiencing their joy (see what I did there?) and sadness.
I’m not doing a good job of describing this. Let me see if I can summarize it better.
The author made me feel like I was experiencing the growth of their friendship right along with them, but with a bit of detachment from the deep emotions they both went through.
I find that to be an exciting talent of the author. It is difficult to make people care about characters they have little in common with, but this author succeeded. I was rooting for both women, even as I had no real affinity for either one.
Still not sure I did a great job of explaining my thoughts. But I did thoroughly enjoy this book and loved seeing both women overcome their hurdles and (hopefully) move on to happier times. I also found out something about myself: that a personal connection to a book doesn’t always happen in the same manner and doesn’t have to be deep and meaningful to lead to the enjoyment of said book.
Author Bio
Emma Robinson is the author of five novels about motherhood and female friendship including The Undercover Mother.
Her fifth novel – The Forgotten Wife – will be out in January 2020.
When she is not writing, Emma is an English teacher and lives in Essex with a patient husband and two children who are an endless source of material.