I read this book begrudgingly. Actually, I listened to this book. Begrudgingly because Bookstagram took me by the collar and beat it across my face for a consistent year.
I gotta see what Evelyn Hugo is about, I’d think against my own will.
Then one day I found myself reading reviews of the book online. Amid tons of 5-star spoiler-free reviews, one salty loser lady wrote a 2-star review with some vague homophobia. It surprised me. It thrilled me!
Wait wait wait.
This book about a woman with seven husbands is queer? I was immediately in.
I downloaded a copy on Libby and started reading…but something was off. I don’t know if it was the writing or the format but I couldn’t get into it.
Trust me, I know how absurd that sounds. Taylor Jenkins Reid is a great writer. 2017’s The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is her fifth published novel and the one directly following – Daisy Jones & the Six – was made into a mini-series on Prime. This woman knows what she’s doing.
Still, something bugged me about reading Evelyn Hugo. Then, a few months later, that all too familiar cover popped up on my Spotify. Stalking me. Calling to me.
After listening to one chapter, I was hooked. It was like this book was written to be narrated aloud. The narrators (Alma Cuervo, Julia Whelan, and Robin Miles) did a great job jumping from our present day narrator Monique’s point of view to Evelyn’s vivid recounting of the golden age of Hollywood to the snarky tabloid snippets of the past.
It’s an incredible story that I hungrily needed to finish once I became invested. Jenkins Reid is very talented at creating tension and raising questions from the first few pages. Hell, she did this from the cover.
Who is Evelyn Hugo and why should I care?
Why seven husbands?
The novel would have been great with simply answering these questions, but we were given a few delicious and devastating twists as well.
As always, I won’t throw in any spoilers but I will say what worked and didn’t work. I appreciated Monique’s personal storyline, rich with its own history and drama which our author dove into just enough to develop the character. As a Black woman, I enjoyed the representation through Monique (a biracial journalist who has been tasked with writing Evelyn’s life story). I also appreciated the queer storyline and the steamy scenes that read quite poetically – both tasteful and overwhelmingly romantic.
On the other side, I would have loved a bit more character development of Monique’s mother. The ending also seemed to come rather quickly, which could have just been my unwillingness to part from the story.
This review is shorter than my others because I feel like I cheated by listening to an audiobook. I didn’t get to underline especially well-written excerpts or connect with the author’s writing style. Regardless, I have no regrets. I’m grateful to have finally discovered why this book is so beloved. I’m even more grateful to learn that Netflix has been working on bringing this story to the screen.
Now, let me go come up with my dream cast. I’ll see y’all at the premiere.
Four and a half stars.