So, there you are. Rollercoasters usually aren’t your thing, but this one came so highly recommended that you couldn’t not go for at least one ride. The line was long, but you powered through to get to this point, this moment in time. You climb in, you strap up, and the guy running the machine comes and clicks the bar down. He smells like vinegar, but you give him the benefit of a doubt. It’s a hot day outside, and who knows how long he’s been working. He makes it to the end of the cars, then saunters back up to his podium to press that button that makes the contraption go.
And that’s when you remember: You fucking hate rollercoasters. You always have. They thrash you around and make you think you might fall out of your seat because the seat belt is worn and the bar is never snug against your legs except when you flip upside down and gravity teases your body. Every time you’ve gone, you’ve made it out alive, but every time you’ve gone, you’ve also gotten sick in the bin and had to go home for the rest of the day feeling miserable.
So you raise your hand up to ask to be let off, that you have made a mistake and are supposed to meet up with someone else anyway, but even though the vinegar man running the thing sees your hand, sees your distress, he pushes the button anyway, and you are flung into a three minute ride into the depths of hell.
That’s what reading The Wives by Tarryn Fisher was like: a rollercoaster ready to fall apart. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this one, so bear with me here.
Spoiler-Free Synopsis
The Wives follows a young woman by the name of Thursday who is in a relationship with a man named Seth. Seth is also in a relationship with two other women he refers to as Monday and Tuesday. Thursday doesn’t know the identity of Monday or Tuesday, and Seth prefers it that way, keeping his life between the three of them separate.
Modern day polygamy at its finest.
It isn’t until one day Thursday happens to see a receipt hiding in Seth’s pocket that gives her a name that her interest in the other women piques into jealousy and obsession. Thursday is determined to find out who his other wives are, and she will stop at nothing to simultaneously save them and destroy them.
This Is A First
I don’t think I’ve ever read a book that I’ve enjoyed where I’ve hated every single character thrown my way. I mean every single one. All the wives: horrible. Seth: atrocious. All the side characters that usually breathe some life into the rest of the novel: good god no. I cared so very little about them all, but I couldn’t put the book down.
It was like watching trashy tv like Honey Boo Boo or Real Housewives. Or like looking at a bad train wreck, I guess. It’s bad, but I can’t fucking look away. I need to know what happens next.
This whole concept is bizarre to me. Usually I at very least love to hate someone in a book, but this gave me nothing to work with. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that has nothing to do with the author and everything to do with me. Like, they all seemed real and reacted in a way that people would really react, but none of these people were my people, you know what I’m saying? Like, I hated Roland from The Dark Tower with an undying passion but his mannerisms and actions enthralled me to the core. Tarryn Fisher gave me nothing to work with here.
I think I’m just bad at making friends.
Plot Isn’t Everything—Except for When It Is
I don’t like to read books for the plot. I know there are readers out there who do, but I don’t fall into that category. I’m more interested, normally, with the characters in the book. That’s why books like The Cell didn’t jive with me. That book was a lot of things, but a great study on character was not one of those things.
Fuck, I sound like a snob, but I’m being honest. I have a point here somewhere. Just roll with it for a hot minute while I gather myself.
Okay, so the relationship between myself and the characters were lacking. That’s fine, different tastes, all that jazz.
But I kept reading. I kept on and I didn’t throw the book in the corner to think about what it’s done like I did with The Cell (also this isn’t my book so I had to take extra good care of it). What saved it for me was the very thing I don’t usually read a book for. The fucking plot.
Tarryn Fisher is amazing at cliffhangers. There, I said it. She left me constantly wanting more even though a part of my brain was like “nah, don’t care” and she kept me in that state up until the final page, and even then I was flipping it over expecting there to be just a little more, just another few sentences, just GIMMEE that FIX Tarryn and I SWEAR I’ll be GOOD.
Folks. Void. It worked.
I didn’t have to like the characters because the story wasn’t about the characters, you dig? The story was about this crazy fucking thing that happened to these people I don’t want to keep in contact with but I still love to hear about them getting kicked around because deep down I know they all deserve it. And I’m probably throwing my own foot in my own mouth because I know for a fact there is someone out there who adored Thursday and understood Seth and craves more of their story, but that someone just isn’t me.
But fucking a. For what it’s worth, it was still a damn good read.
Little Side Notes
It should be obvious that this book didn’t paint polygamy and polyamory in a good light, and it should also be obvious that that was not this book’s intention. Believe it or not, there are healthy relationships out there that are not monogamous—far from it, actually. It’s all about consent, folks. That, and minding your own business if it’s not your thing.
I’m not polyamorous (too jealous), but I have a friend who is, and they make that shit work just fine for them. They are happy, and I think that’s all that matters.
I just wanted to touch on that point because I feel like that lifestyle gets a bad rap because the rest of society is so focused on the cult-style polygamy where the women are held captive and are raped by their dad, but that’s just one side, the dark side, where it’s not about consent and being a free spirit.
Being a comment on society isn’t what the author intended. They intended a thriller and they fucking delivered a damn good thriller. Tarryn Fisher dived headfirst into the mind of Thursday, who both accepts and resists her situation, no censorship whatsoever, no sugarcoating it for the feint of heart, and she did fantastic at that.
A Gift from Me To You
Since polyamory is a theme of this book, and since I love Breaking Benjamin, here’s a song for you to listen to. It’s a good one. 😊
For what it’s worth, I enjoyed this book despite not enjoying the characters in it. I was promised an edge-of-your-seat thriller, and it fucking delivered. My arbitrary rating system says it’s a solid 9/10. I want you to go read it with an open mind, no outside influence. Go in blind and see how you come out. You might love the characters and roll your eyes at the plot! You might write Tarryn Fisher and demand she delve deeper into Thursday or do a retelling through the eyes of one of the other wives! Don’t ever take anything negative I have to say about anything too much to heart. I’m just a girl who wants to be published but instead is a pro at getting rejections. What you should take to heart is all the good I have to say instead. You know, like how it’s a damn fine thriller and you won’t regret reading it.
Why am I still sitting here justifying my opinion?
Anyway, here’s to you, Void. Is there something you’ve read or watched that had key elements you normally look for that it failed on but you kept pushing through for the satisfaction of what happens next? Let me know!
Manda Kay Writes 