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Book Synopsis
Nastily good fun' MetroSET TO BECOME A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE STARRING ELIZABETH MOSSShirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoiaGeorge March's latest novel is a smash hit. None could be prouder than Mrs. March, his dutiful wife, who revels in his accolades and relishes the lifestyle and status his success brings.A creature of routine and decorum, Mrs. March lives an exquisitely controlled existence on the Upper East Side. Every morning begins the same way, with a visit to her favourite patisserie to buy a loaf ofolive bread, but her latest trip proves to be her last when she suffers an indignity from which she may never recover: an assumption by the shopkeeper that the protagonist in George March's new book a pathetic sex worker, more a figure of derision than desire is based on Mrs. March.One casual remark robs Mrs. March not only of her beloved olive bread but of the bel

Trade Review

I read Mrs March in one sitting and was so captured by it … As a character, [Mrs March] is fascinating, complex, and deeply human’ Elisabeth Moss

‘Feito nods deftly to her forebears – there are shades of Hitchcock and Highsmith here … while the opening chapter puts one in mind of Woolf’s Mrs DallowayNastily good fun’ Claire Allfree, Metro

Virginia Feito’s noirish debut novel left me rapt, gleefully ambivalent about her eponymous protagonist: did I like her? Did I find her funny? Did I want to hug her? Was I bit a scared of her? Did I relate to her? To all of the above: yes … an elegant, claustrophobic psychological thriller that feels incredibly original’ Evening Standard

‘What a rancid little book, I absolutely loved it’ Alice Slater

The atmosphere of queasy foreboding is compelling, as is the portrayal of a flawed, troubled and complex individual trying to keep it together while coming apart at the seamsEconomist

A brilliantly tense psychological study from a writer who keeps pace with the grandees she invokes – Du Maurier, for one … Feito has done that most horrible, wonderful and truly novelistic of things: she has seen right through Mrs March and into the shameful, petty, maggoty secrets that everybody carries’ Guardian

'A delicious, disorienting study of suspicion, societal pressure and shifting identities, brilliantly rendered. I swallowed this tale down as greedily as if it were Mrs. March's beloved olive bread' Rachel Edwards, author of Darling

‘Gloriously grotesque: tormented by the desire for glossy magazine perfection; cruelly judgemental; frantic to believe the world revolves around her. And yet Feito makes her guilt-inducingly relatable…The gothic awfulness of her predicament reminds you of Ottessa Moshfegh’s grand guignol creations and lurid descriptive talents; Shirley Jackson’s claustrophobic horrorThe Times

Mrs March The most compulsive debut gothic

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A Paperback / softback by Virginia Feito

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    View other formats and editions of Mrs March The most compulsive debut gothic by Virginia Feito

    Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
    Publication Date: 26/05/2022
    ISBN13: 9780008421755, 978-0008421755
    ISBN10: 0008421757

    Description

    Book Synopsis
    Nastily good fun' MetroSET TO BECOME A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE STARRING ELIZABETH MOSSShirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoiaGeorge March's latest novel is a smash hit. None could be prouder than Mrs. March, his dutiful wife, who revels in his accolades and relishes the lifestyle and status his success brings.A creature of routine and decorum, Mrs. March lives an exquisitely controlled existence on the Upper East Side. Every morning begins the same way, with a visit to her favourite patisserie to buy a loaf ofolive bread, but her latest trip proves to be her last when she suffers an indignity from which she may never recover: an assumption by the shopkeeper that the protagonist in George March's new book a pathetic sex worker, more a figure of derision than desire is based on Mrs. March.One casual remark robs Mrs. March not only of her beloved olive bread but of the bel

    Trade Review

    I read Mrs March in one sitting and was so captured by it … As a character, [Mrs March] is fascinating, complex, and deeply human’ Elisabeth Moss

    ‘Feito nods deftly to her forebears – there are shades of Hitchcock and Highsmith here … while the opening chapter puts one in mind of Woolf’s Mrs DallowayNastily good fun’ Claire Allfree, Metro

    Virginia Feito’s noirish debut novel left me rapt, gleefully ambivalent about her eponymous protagonist: did I like her? Did I find her funny? Did I want to hug her? Was I bit a scared of her? Did I relate to her? To all of the above: yes … an elegant, claustrophobic psychological thriller that feels incredibly original’ Evening Standard

    ‘What a rancid little book, I absolutely loved it’ Alice Slater

    The atmosphere of queasy foreboding is compelling, as is the portrayal of a flawed, troubled and complex individual trying to keep it together while coming apart at the seamsEconomist

    A brilliantly tense psychological study from a writer who keeps pace with the grandees she invokes – Du Maurier, for one … Feito has done that most horrible, wonderful and truly novelistic of things: she has seen right through Mrs March and into the shameful, petty, maggoty secrets that everybody carries’ Guardian

    'A delicious, disorienting study of suspicion, societal pressure and shifting identities, brilliantly rendered. I swallowed this tale down as greedily as if it were Mrs. March's beloved olive bread' Rachel Edwards, author of Darling

    ‘Gloriously grotesque: tormented by the desire for glossy magazine perfection; cruelly judgemental; frantic to believe the world revolves around her. And yet Feito makes her guilt-inducingly relatable…The gothic awfulness of her predicament reminds you of Ottessa Moshfegh’s grand guignol creations and lurid descriptive talents; Shirley Jackson’s claustrophobic horrorThe Times

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