WAYWARD

A woman pursuing a midlife reset finds her received notions about domesticity and justice unraveling.

In her previous smart, spiky novels, Spiotta explored the tenuous bonds between brothers and sisters (Stone Arabia, 2011) and female friends (Innocents and Others, 2016). Here the themes are motherhood and marriage, as Sam, a 50-something woman, attempts to reboot her life after Trump’s election. The protest groups she joins on Facebook are contentious (one is called “Hardcore Hags, Harridans, and Harpies”), which she at first finds inspirational. On an impulse, she leaves her marriage and buys a dilapidated historic house in Syracuse. But she still needs her husband’s financial support (she works part time in the historic home of a “problematic” 19th-century feminist), and the infighting among her activist friends soon becomes confounding. (She’s strong-armed into signing a petition censuring one woman for unexplained transgressions.) Lost in the shuffle is Sam’s ailing mother as well as Ally, her 16-year-old daughter, who's an academic high achiever seduced by her 29-year-old mentor in an entrepreneurship program. Sam processes all this in irrational, woman-on-the-brink ways (keying a truck, a disastrous turn at a stand-up open mic) that are typical in domestic-crisis novels. But Spiotta’s characterization of Sam is more complicated and slippery, as she begins to recognize that the entrapment she feels is as much a function of broader forces she’s helpless to control; shifting between Sam's and Ally’s perspectives, Spiotta asks how much leeway a mother has in a society in which patriarchal attitudes carry so much weight. A violent act at the tail end of the novel both clarifies and complicates the predicament, and Spiotta artfully contextualizes Sam’s existential crisis as part of her hometown's history. As Sam asks, for herself, and everybody: "What happened to us? When did progress become so ugly?"

An engrossing, interior mother-daughter story that expands into a sharp social commentary.