A master class in ambition…taught by someone you’d never want as a friend
This novel is the next ManiScripts book club read. We're meeting in September to discuss the book, so I found some book club questions to answer ahead of time. If you've been following my blog at all, you know I am more murder and mayhem than romance and flowers, putting this novel outside my usual genres. I did enjoy it however. Even though I didn’t like Evelyn Hugo. At all.
Evelyn Hugo glamorous and fascinating, but peel back the glitter, and you’ve got a woman who manipulates everyone within a ten-mile radius until the very last breath. That includes journalist Monique, who thought she was getting the scoop of a lifetime and ended up with a one-way ticket to Trauma Town.
The husbands are introduced with little monikers: Poor Ernie Diaz, Goddamn Don Adler, Disappointing Max Girard. Honestly, they read like Evelyn’s Yelp reviews of her own marriages. Ernie was a stepping stone out of poverty. Don was the charming abuser. She set Max up to be a disappointment and he didn’t bother proving her wrong. The only one who came out looking decent was Agreeable Robert Jamison, who was willing to do anything to protect his sister’s happiness. He was a rare honorable character in this novel, and frankly, too good for Evelyn. And so was Harry.
Harry Cameron was my favorite. Brilliant, kindhearted, and tortured Harry. He loved Evelyn as much as anyone could possibly love Evelyn, which is to say, with compromise and quiet suffering. A gay man in a time when being himself could have destroyed his career, Harry broke my heart. He was her true partner, and she still found ways to use him when it suited her.
Monique, meanwhile, started off as a drifter, letting life push her in whichever direction it wanted. Then along comes Evelyn with her “let me teach you how to bulldoze your way through life” routine. By the end, Monique is sharper, bolder, and a little more manipulative, because if Evelyn Hugo left you with anything, it was a lesson in how to play people. I’m still not sure that qualifies as personal growth, but it definitely counts as a crash course in ambition.
And let’s not forget the phrase Monique coins: to “Evelyn Hugo” someone. It should be in the dictionary. Definition: to manipulate people like pawns on a chessboard while acting like you’re doing them a favor. Ugh.
Surprisingly, I did trust Evelyn as a narrator. She was blunt about her worst moments, sometimes almost bragging about them. She didn’t sugarcoat her ruthlessness, and she didn’t seem to see much point in lying at that stage of her life. If anything, her candor made her even less likable, but at least she was consistent.
The fake news clippings sprinkled throughout were a fun touch, and they drove home just how much Evelyn controlled her own image. Every scandal was staged, every headline manipulated. She would have been a TikTok queen today, and I’d still roll my eyes at her.
Evelyn’s attitude toward love and sex was shaped early on, when she learned that sex was currency. She spent it like Monopoly money, and it left her with a warped sense of intimacy. As for her moral compass, it basically boiled down to “if you’re fine in the end, then I don’t have to feel guilty.” By that logic, she probably thought Ernie should send her a thank-you note.
I did not like Evelyn Hugo even a little. She’s selfish, manipulative, and exhausting. By the time I closed the book, I was less dazzled by her gowns and more impressed that anyone stayed friends with her at all. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is juicy historical fiction wrapped in sequins and scandal, but Evelyn herself is a cautionary tale in high heels.