Book Review — The Push by Ashley Audrain
"I SAW THAT COMING!"
Sometimes your instincts are right on spot. I was right all along about "The Push". It doesn't give me any pleasure to rant about a book. But rant I will because I've nothing remotely good to say here. I'm in the minority of unpopular opinions about this book as all I found were good reviews, if not great.
It starts with a promising premise. The back cover reads,
"Blythe Connor is determined that she will be the warm, comforting mother to her new baby Violet that she herself never had.
But in the thick of motherhood’s exhausting early days, Blythe becomes convinced that something is wrong with her daughter–she doesn’t behave like most children do.
Or is it all in Blythe’s head? Her husband, Fox, says she’s imagining things. The more Fox dismisses her fears, the more Blythe begins to question her own sanity, and the more we begin to question what Blythe is telling us about her life as well.
Then their son Sam is born–and with him, Blythe has the blissful connection she’d always imagined with her child. Even Violet seems to love her little brother. But when life as they know it is changed in an instant, the devastating fall-out forces Blythe to face the truth."
Reading the synopsis I had this strong preconceived notion that I have already figured it all out before even starting with the first page.
To start with, there are no twists! None whatsoever. You read the first chapter and the entire story plays in front of you. It is that predictable. Nonetheless I pushed through it because I wanted to be proven wrong. I expected the 'Wow' factor from it. But there wasn't even a 'Meh' factor to it. What a waste!
It drags on and on where you wonder whether there's any point to all of it. There are long descriptions of a mother's grief on losing a child, the days, weeks and months she plunges into depression, the endless details of her baby's smell, his feet, his laugh and whatnot, the backstories of moms and grandmoms and failed mothers which at the end were inconclusive and pointless. The only point of the lengthy history being that Blythe comes from generations of bad moms and thus wants to prove them wrong. And point proven! Okay? We get it! The backstories are there to plant the seed in our minds that maybe even Blythe isn't the good mother she describes herself to be. All this could have been achieved in lesser words and much lesser pages leaving room for actual plot development.
Blythe clings to everything unquestioningly. To the memories of her departed son, to her ex husband, to her mom and to Violet, the psycho child that centers this story. Blythe questions Violet's behaviour throughout the story without questioning her directly. There are many instances where Blythe should have confronted her, demanded answers or even screamed at her. She should have counselled her, took her to see a therapist, tried to talk to her or just burst with anger like Annie Graham in Hereditary. But she doesn't. I don't know if that's normal mom behaviour but it's definitely not normal human behaviour. Even after THE incidence she should have reacted differently with Violet, the incidence that ripped everything apart but surprisingly she doesn't do anything. Unrealistic. I mean you have suspicions, you have doubts, why aren't you doing something about it instead of whining to us readers unless there's a point.
The book goes on and on and (My God!) on just to deliver the final punchline. The author delivered the punchline in literally the ultimate line of the book, which should have been the ultimate pay off and the redeeming quality but unfortunately, a habitual reader can and will see the conclusion from miles away.
"Bad Apple" by Zoge Stage has similar plot so does "We need to talk about Kevin" by Lionel Shriver. While the later was critically acclaimed and rightfully so, the former wasn't much of a surprise. Still 'Bad Apple' wasn't as bad as this one, The Push.
The only words worth highlighting appear on the very first page, an excerpt from "When the Drummers were women" by Layne Redmond.
