The Echo Wife
Sarah Gailey’s latest novel, The Echo Wife, has a straightforward premise: brilliant scientist Evelyn Caldwell gets left by her husband Nathan for her more docile clone, Martine. When Nathan ends up murdered, the two women have to work together to cover it up. It’s set up in such a way that you might think you know where this is going, but, as with most good books, it takes you places you never thought you’d go. Mild spoilers ahead.
Stories involving twins or clones are compelling because they raise questions about identity and duality. They usually place characters in situations where they are faced with who they are, who they could be or who they want to be. In the case of Evelyn, this confrontation is not by her own making. Though Martine comes into being via processes developed by Evelyn’s research, Evelyn does not clone herself—Nathan does. So throughout the book Evelyn is forced into looking into a mirror, one that she doesn’t always want to gaze into.
That was one of the many things about this book that I enjoyed. It is a more introspective story than what one could assume from a SF domestic thriller involving cloning tech. I anticipated lies, switcheroos, and frameups, and though those happen in The Echo WIfe, those elements are just as prominent (if not less important), as examinations of women’s agency and trauma.
Evelyn goes through a lot of trauma, inflicted not only by Nathan, but by her parents, who both scarred her in ways that inform how she then treats Martine—sometimes coldly, borderline cruelly, in a way that one can be cruel to one’s self. Her childhood traumas also shape Martine, who was created from Evelyn’s neural map, though recalibrated by Nathan to suit his desires. The dynamic between the two women is so complex, and Gailey deftly knew how to bring out the best and worst from both characters.
Other books I’ve read lately:
Dunbar by Edward St Aubyn is part of the Hogarth Shakespeare Series, where contemporary authors novelize the great bar’s plays. This one is a retelling of King Lear, where instead of Britain, Henry Dunbar runs a modern media empire recently deposed by his scheming children. It has a very Succession feel, with the same dark levity and viciousness of both that TV show and the original play.
The Library at Mount Char by Scott Hawkins gave me something to hold on to after suffering from The Magicians withdrawal. This ensemble cast of powerful godlings stumbling through increasingly epic quests has been on my TBR list for far too long and I’m only sad that I didn’t get to it a lot sooner.
Riot Baby by Tochi Onyebuchi is such a masterwork, and deserves all the praises it’s received. It’s about a Black brother and sister, both gifted with special powers, and their lives through decades of systemic racism throughout America. It’s heartbreaking and incendiary, and it’s written with such good prose; it’s the kind of book that makes me want to step up my game.