Bibliofemme Bookclub An Irish Bookclub

Essentially a long short story, Ira Levin’s iconic tale of immaculate housewives in an American suburb is one of those books I’d always meant to read. With the release of the Nicole Kidman-fronted film, piles of copies beckoned from the bookshop shelves and it seemed as good a time as any to pick up this cult classic.

Despite its cultural connotations, I came at it without preconceptions: all I really knew about the story was related to the fact that its title has become an everyday phrase to describe women obsessed with housework. It turns out, apart from its cultural significance, this is a fast-paced page-turner. A highly recommended taut thriller for a short train or plane ride.

It actually made me think a lot about the role of women and, despite its brevity, I was sorry I hadn’t picked it for a bookclub book because I think the femmes would have had a good debate about it. It taps into that innate fear, that unadmittable possibility that maybe one of the lives women aspire to is not that far removed from Levin’s vision of stunningly beautiful, efficient homemakers. Interestingly, the biggest threat to Joanne’s future comes in the guise of another woman, not a man.

I have a favourite bit and it has stayed with me – having witnessed her neighbours’ frantic evening cleaning routines through half-closed curtains, Joanne insists on avoiding the laundry despite the fact that it needs to be done, just so she won’t be like the rest of the Stepford Wives:

“As a matter of principle she wasn’t going to do any housework. Not that there wasn’t plenty to do, God knows, and some that she actually wanted to do, like getting the living-room bookshelves squared away – but not tonight, no sir. It could darn well wait.”

I’d love to know what the other femmes would have made of that, it really made me laugh out loud.