Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons

“Chapter One. How many times in her life had those two words invited her to go to a different place, a better place than the one she lived in?”

This passage alludes to The Power of Books and Imagination. Worn out from caring for her young twins, Faith takes refuge in a moment to herself to read. The idea of escaping into books foreshadows how the book club will provide a unifying thread throughout the novel. The various books that the members read reflect their personalities, interests, and worries while providing a dramatic structure.

“It wasn’t so hard fooling everybody; however, always being careful was exhausting. But Faith knew being tired was nothing compared to being found out.”

Faith’s secret, introduced in Chapter 1, foreshadows how all of the women will keep one secret at some point or another. Secrets build suspense and tension in the novel. When each woman shares hers with the others, she experiences catharsis, speaking to the healing power of Friendship, Love, and Loyalty, especially when navigating loss and change.

“Faith and I had gotten to be pretty good friends, but sometimes I couldn’t help feeling that while I’d been invited onto her property, there were fenced-off places I wasn’t allowed to go.”

Slip narrates the above. She is the most forthright and hurt when the others keep secrets. The novel goes on to explore what the other women withhold to keep their relationship intact. In the above quote, Slip uses a metaphor, where something is compared to something else without using “like” or “as.” In this case, she compares Faith’s withholding nature to “fenced-off places.”

“Kari hugged her arms to her chest and watched the traffic below on Grant Street. It was absurd—there she was in the middle of Chinatown, in a law office that was decorated in Early Beanbag and reeked of incense, and she had just been offered the one thing she wanted most in the whole world: a baby.”

This passage captures the juxtaposition of opposites that Lorna Landvik uses throughout the novel. Here, she contrasts the dying plant and the new life Kari is being offered, and the awkward and uncomfortable setting with the hope and euphoria Kari feels. This blend of humor and emotion is a trademark of Landvik’s style.

“Life is like a bowl of spaghetti, Bella: it’s still good even when it’s all tangled up.”

Audrey’s grandfather says this adage to Audrey. It sums up the philosophy of the book, which holds that even painful circumstances can have a silver lining. The adage reflects Audrey’s practical wisdom and later informs her faith when she becomes a pastor.

“I think that’s the trouble with lying—once you get started, you can’t really take away. You just have to keep adding.”

Faith’s mother-in-law Patsy says this when she catches Faith telling a lie about her family. It speaks to a sentiment illustrated elsewhere in the novel: that lies and secrets can compound and eventually trap a person, and cannot be taken away or retracted. Through the books that the Angry Housewives read, the novel presents fictional stories as a catalyst for connection and empowerment. However, this discourse on falsehoods reflects how stories—or lies—can be damaging.

“I thought it was just a bunch of angry housewives sitting around eating bon bons and yakking about love stories.”

In an act of defiance, the women adopt part of Eric’s derisive comment to name their club. They take his insult about their interests and intellectual capacity and turn it back on him, illustrating their resilience, perseverance, and how they make the best of challenging situations.

“I hate the way bitterness is like a black, bubbling tar pit in me, and I hate the way so many memories of you are in that pit. My big trouble is, I try, but I just don’t know how to seal it up.”

Faith dwells in the past, attempting to come to terms with it in her letters to her mother. She uses a simile, where something is compared to something else using “like” or “as.” In this case, she compares “bitterness” to “a black, bubbling tar pit.” The pit is tactile and physical, something that holds memories of her mother. By contrast, other women in the novel show the ability to heal and move on.

“She drew her shame tight around her; it was a coat that had no buttons, no zipper, so she couldn’t get out of it, but most importantly, nobody could get in.”

Like Faith, Merit has a secret. In Merit’s case, she hides that her husband is abusing her. The above quote uses a metaphor to describe her mortification, comparing it to “a coat that had no buttons, no zipper.” Merit feels that keeping the secret is protective; it will hurt less to hide what is happening than to have the truth of her circumstances exposed. This will prove untrue: When her friends discover her secret, they immediately help her, saving her from abuse and allowing her to grow in self-sufficiency and self-acceptance.

“Of course, he has a full-time job, but so do I; I just don’t get to leave the house to do it, I don’t get to dress up for it, I don’t get paid for it, and the world at large seems to think it’s pretty inconsequential. Oh, and did I mention that calling in sick is unacceptable?”

In juxtaposition with the idea that housewives sit around all day eating bon bons, Slip reflects on how demanding her job as a housewife is, and the lack of recognition that caretaking receives in the larger world. This is one of many peeks that the novel offers into the lives and thoughts of middle-class, Midwestern women.

“Erich Segal says, ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry.’ So I guess you did love me, Mama, because I can’t remember you ever apologizing for anything and yet look at me, I can’t stop telling you how much I’m sorry.”

The books the women read for their club help them in different ways. Love Story by Erich Segal prompts Faith to reflect on her relationship with her mother. Through Faith’s fractious relationship with Primrose, the novel explores Adapting to Loss and Change.

“Many times [Slip] had sat outside with her friends, watching their children play in the sandbox or examine something incredibly interesting—a rock, a stick, and once the carcass of a blackbird—and thought, This is the whole wide world, right here, and I’m in it.”

Landvik’s narrative often intersperses dramatic tension with reflection, humor, or, as in this passage, contentment. Slip’s moment of calm comes after the joy of the neighborhood circus, and is followed by the horror of discovering Eric physically abusing Merit.

“I had to laugh; laughter was the only glue that was going to hold me together.”

As her marriage is falling apart, Audrey laughs at her husband’s shock when she proposes that she gets to have affairs, too. The double standard—that men can have affairs while women can’t—reflects the culture at the time. One of the book’s key messages is that laughter gets people through hard times.

“[Kari] sent up many prayers of gratitude as she looked out that sewing room window, watching the seasons strip the trees or fill them out, watching the path of the moon, the clouds roll in or tear apart, the quick darts of rabbits and birds and, once or twice, a deer.”

There is little attention to setting in the novel, as the focus is on human interaction. However, these small details help reinforce the suburban setting of Freesia Court. During Kari’s moment of quiet contemplation, she witnesses the snowman Audrey builds, her peace offering to Slip that knits the Angry Housewives back together. In the above quote, “the seasons” are personified with sentient qualities, in this case, to “strip the trees or fill them out.”

“Audrey swallowed, wanting to cry. If she had been a different mother—more vigilant, less laissez-faire, more like Cynthia—would Davey not be a bully?”

Each woman faces different challenges on her character journey. After Audrey’s divorce, she reflects on her parenting style, and questions whether it had a negative impact on Davey.

“All of the Angry Housewives were now working outside their homes. Faith was a decorator; Slip helped people get jobs and housing; Kari had gone back to substitute teaching […] and Audrey, who didn’t have to work, hostessed.”

The book provides a window into the cultural changes of the passing decades, which are reflected in the women’s lives. This passage captures how, by the early ’80s, work outside the home reflects the Angry Housewives’ increasing independence and self-sufficiency. Their work casts an ironic light on their self-adopted name—none of them are, or ever have been, Angry Housewives.

“It was as if a warm spring day had moved into the spot in my heart that for so long had been held hostage by winter. All bloom seemed possible.”

The book examines Adapting to Loss and Change. When Audrey attends church, she begins to heal. The imagery—“[a]ll bloom”—hints at how her newfound spirituality is a rebirth after the sadness of her divorce.

“These kids are like vessels you pour your love into. And some of those vessels are big and strong and happy to hold all the love you want to pour in, and others have cracks in them and the love isn’t worth much because it all leaks out. I used to think love could save anything, but it can’t if the vessel’s cracked.”

Audrey uses the metaphor of the child as a vessel to depict the love of mothers, an emotion that unites the Angry Housewives. The cracked vessel represents the fear a parent feels when their child is injured, not thriving, or doesn’t seem able to be touched, healed, or made safe by their love.

“She was herself—thoroughly and fully Merit Mayes, the girl she had been before her band teacher lunged at her, before her looks got in the way of how people perceived her, before she married Eric, the man whose goal was to take away as much of her as he could.”

All of the women have their own character arc and milestones. Merit, for example, feels like she reclaims herself when she finds an activity she loves—playing piano—and falls in love with Frank, who truly sees her and loves her for who she is. The novel’s emphasis on self-actualization and finding inner peace supports the bigger theme of Friendship, Love, and Loyalty.

“I bought [a rose], thinking that life was like a flower—showy and colorful and indescribably delicate, and even if aphids or worms or mildew destroyed it, it still couldn’t change the fact that it had been a flower.”

The book doesn’t pause often to deliver a life philosophy. However, Audrey’s reflection on the rose she buys in the hotel comes close. Faith and Beau have reconciled after Beau comes out, and Audrey’s thoughts reflect the vein the novel has been following throughout—how one must learn to balance the beauty and joys of life with trials and loss. The above text uses a simile, comparing life to a flower that still retains its beauty in the face of destruction.

“Mr. Paradise was bowlegged and scrawny and wore dated clothes and a hairstyle that should have been retired into the Greasers Hall of Fame, but he was their mother’s prince and therefore royalty to the girls.”

The novel matches beautiful Merit with an awkward-looking man, a pairing that looks off on the surface, but is deep with love. Falling in love with Frank is part of Merit’s healing after her difficult marriage to Eric. Through Frank’s kindness, the novel illustrates the insignificance of appearances and the importance of character.

“Audrey wasn’t bitter that she hadn’t yet found true love; instead, knowing others had found it, she was hopeful that she might. And hope itself, she was finding, was enough of a gift.”

In one of the novel’s ironies, Audrey, the most sensual and sexually active of the group, doesn’t have a true romantic partnership by the end. However, her hopefulness reflects the novel’s overall optimistic outlook, that one may find love, heal, and overcome loss.

“I’m a deeper, richer person than I was when I was young and cute.”

Faith’s letters to her mother continue as a device throughout the book, giving insight into Faith’s interior life. Her character journey involves coming to terms with her past and identity. The self-acceptance that follows reflects the novel’s larger themes of healing.