By Sarah Stroymeyer
I started reading this book on http://www.dearreader.com/ (the deal is they email you the first few pages and then you decide whether to buy/borrow the rest). After the first instalment came in through email, I couldn't wait to read the rest.
The premise is simple: in the middle of nowhere Ohio there is a world where husbands are rich and wives are slim, sexy and shopping. The live by the rules (invented by themselves) and they are all happy… except for Marti, whose husband seems to be disappearing. He comes home long after she falls asleep and is gone in the morning before she wakes up, with only a Post-It note of instructions to her as an indication that he came home at all. As we read on, enter Claire, an outsider and an immediate rival, and we discover that Marti's story, intriguing as it is, is marginal.
It's not great literature by any means, but it's a fast fun read. What hooked me onto it, was not only the fun delivery style and punchy dialogues, but the dream of being a kept woman. Those of you who follow my blog will remember my un-PC desire to be a housewife. Some of you argued that it’s sad (or indeed insane). And perhaps they have a point: women who have no choice but play perfect wives, probably yearn for the freedom of a career. Well, I have an education, I have a career or three, and I say I’m willing to taste the grass on the other side.
So. All these women in “The Secret Lives of Fortunate Wives” have to do all day is look fabulous, be pampered and spend indecent sums of money. OK, so they can’t eat chocolate or chips or toast or meat or just about anything except yoghurt and celery sticks. That’s a small price to pay, if you ask me.