THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO: BOOK REVIEW
Before I had read (or even planned on reading) The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, I had a number of preconceived ideas about it. Based on the cover and title alone, I had assumed it was about a woman’s dramatic struggle with divorce over the course of her life — an interesting story, just not a genre or topic I have ever gravitated toward. But when a good friend of mine just about shoved the book in my hands and begged me to read it, claiming it was one of the best books she’d ever read, I caved.
Turns out, I was spectacularly wrong about Evelyn Hugo, and I’ve never been happier to be so thoroughly disproven.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo starts with Monique Grant, a young journalist struggling to make a name for herself in the industry. She’s given a chance to do just that when she is contacted by the aging movie star, Evelyn Hugo, who asks Monqiue to write her exclusive biography. Monique agrees, and the bulk of the book recounts Evelyn’s life’s story as she fights for fame in the late 50s and explodes into stardom in the Golden Age of American Hollywood.
The most notable (and surprising) aspect of the story was that it wasn’t about Evelyn’s seven husbands at all. The book was entirely about Evelyn and what it was like for her as a Cuban woman struggling against both racism and misogyny in a time notorious for both.
Ultimately, if the book is about any of Evelyn’s relationships, it is clearly about her relationship with her wife: fellow actress and the self-proclaimed love of Evelyn’s life, Celia St. James.
Unsurprisingly, the story of Evelyn and Celia is rife with struggle and heartache — the American 60s weren’t exactly known for their acceptance of queer people, regardless of their movie-star status. But Reid balances the sadness with truly touching and poignant moments between the characters, as they exchange heartfelt letters and steal kisses where no one can find them. The relationship worked so well because it felt real — both characters were incredibly flawed, but that made them feel alive. Regardless of their flaws, it was impossible not to root for them, especially when Evelyn’s love for Celia felt so raw and genuine.
As the book continues, it becomes clear that all her life, Evelyn has been put into boxes. She had to fit the golden standard of a straight, white American actress in order to be accepted, despite being a bisexual Cuban woman. Her interview with Monique, readers realize, is a way for her to finally confront the restraints society and the media placed upon her. She is able to come out, talk about her wife, and detail the abuse she faced within the industry and from many of the men around her. Though Evelyn’s rich, lavish celebrity lifestyle is far from relatable, her struggles as a queer woman very much are, and it gives the entire book a much more poignant feel.
Monique starts the very first interview by asking Evelyn which of her husbands was the true love of her life, and in doing so, establishes the very crux of the novel. The world, and even Monique, was waiting to hear what it wanted to hear: a juicy tell-all about Evelyn’s many husbands, a story the tabloids had thrived off of for years. But Evelyn’s story — everyones’ stories — is much more complex. In the end, the number of husbands didn’t matter. What mattered was Evelyn — her struggles, her ambition, her decisions, and ultimately, her relationship with her closest friends and wife.
With stunning characters and fast-paced storytelling, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo was undoubtedly a fun read that unexpectedly punches readers in the gut with emotion. My only regret is that I hadn’t read it sooner — if I had known the book so heavily featured queer characters and a touching sapphic romance, I would have picked it up years ago.