The Husbands
Author: Holly Gramazio
Published by: Vintage
Pages: 355
Format: Paperback
My Rating: ★★★1/2
Published by: Vintage
Pages: 355
Format: Paperback
My Rating: ★★★1/2
One night Lauren finds a strange man in her flat who claims to be her husband. All the evidence – from photos to electricity bills – suggests he’s right. And then another one appears. Lauren’s attic, she slowly realises, is creating an endless supply of husbands for her. There’s
The one who’s too hot (there must be a catch).
The one who pretends to play music on her toes.
The one who can calm her unruly thoughts with a single touch.
But when you can change husbands as easily as changing a lightbulb, how do you know whether the one you have now is the good-enough one, or the wrong one, or the best one? And how long should you keep trying to find out?
The one who’s too hot (there must be a catch).
The one who pretends to play music on her toes.
The one who can calm her unruly thoughts with a single touch.
But when you can change husbands as easily as changing a lightbulb, how do you know whether the one you have now is the good-enough one, or the wrong one, or the best one? And how long should you keep trying to find out?
My thoughts:
Holly Gramazio’s The Husbands is a playful and inventive dip into magical realism that kept me entertained. At its core, it’s a story about choice, identity, and the many versions of ourselves that exist across time and circumstance - but it’s told with a light touch and a wry sense of humour that makes it feel fresh and accessible.
We follow Lauren, a woman who discovers that a simple decision in her attic closet leads to a startling new reality: each time she opens the door, a different version of a husband appears, seemingly tailored to a version of her life that might have been. What follows is a clever exploration of domesticity, relationships, and selfhood, posing the quietly profound question: who are we without the people we tether ourselves to?
The pacing dips a little in the middle of the novel, and there were moments that felt a bit repetitive or slow. However, on reflection, these quieter passages serve an important purpose as they allow the reader to really get under Lauren’s skin and understand the emotional stakes at play. Gramazio writes with insight and subtlety, and I appreciated the layers that built gradually over time.
Beneath the playful premise lies a thoughtful exploration of autonomy, compromise, and the complexity of modern womanhood. Through Lauren’s constantly shifting domestic realities, Gramazio asks what it really means to build a life with someone, and whether every choice inevitably means the loss of another potential version of ourselves. The novel cleverly sidesteps romantic clichés and instead offers something more nuanced: a meditation on selfhood and the small, often invisible negotiations that shape long-term relationships. It’s especially sharp in its depiction of how easily women can lose sight of themselves within the roles they’re expected to play - partner, caregiver, homemaker - and how reclaiming that sense of self can feel both liberating and disorienting.
Despite the magical premise, The Husbands feels grounded in emotional truth. It’s both whimsical and poignant, full of sharp observations about partnership, choice, and the unexpected directions life can take. This is a compelling and original debut novel. I’m excited to see what Gramazio does next.
Overall reaction:
Holly Gramazio’s The Husbands is a playful and inventive dip into magical realism that kept me entertained. At its core, it’s a story about choice, identity, and the many versions of ourselves that exist across time and circumstance - but it’s told with a light touch and a wry sense of humour that makes it feel fresh and accessible.
We follow Lauren, a woman who discovers that a simple decision in her attic closet leads to a startling new reality: each time she opens the door, a different version of a husband appears, seemingly tailored to a version of her life that might have been. What follows is a clever exploration of domesticity, relationships, and selfhood, posing the quietly profound question: who are we without the people we tether ourselves to?
The pacing dips a little in the middle of the novel, and there were moments that felt a bit repetitive or slow. However, on reflection, these quieter passages serve an important purpose as they allow the reader to really get under Lauren’s skin and understand the emotional stakes at play. Gramazio writes with insight and subtlety, and I appreciated the layers that built gradually over time.
Beneath the playful premise lies a thoughtful exploration of autonomy, compromise, and the complexity of modern womanhood. Through Lauren’s constantly shifting domestic realities, Gramazio asks what it really means to build a life with someone, and whether every choice inevitably means the loss of another potential version of ourselves. The novel cleverly sidesteps romantic clichés and instead offers something more nuanced: a meditation on selfhood and the small, often invisible negotiations that shape long-term relationships. It’s especially sharp in its depiction of how easily women can lose sight of themselves within the roles they’re expected to play - partner, caregiver, homemaker - and how reclaiming that sense of self can feel both liberating and disorienting.
Despite the magical premise, The Husbands feels grounded in emotional truth. It’s both whimsical and poignant, full of sharp observations about partnership, choice, and the unexpected directions life can take. This is a compelling and original debut novel. I’m excited to see what Gramazio does next.
Overall reaction:
