Fairytales have always loved their binaries: good girl, bad woman. Glittering ball, shadowed hearth. But real life is rarely so obliging. In Lady Tremaine, the glass slipper slips from the center stage, and the woman labeled wicked steps forward. This is not a story about magic. It is a story about power, motherhood, survival, and what goodness looks like when it is forced to negotiate with reality.

The Cover

The ornately decorated L on the cover of Lady Tremaine brings to mind the initial capital letters in illuminated manuscripts. These detailed designs historically helped to illustrate the story. Using this element acts as a nod to the period and setting of the book. This instance is decorated with flowers and a bird. The gold leaf effect on the letters alludes to royal seals and markers of opulence. The flowers are a nod to the fading beauty of girls as they pass into womanhood. The bird calls directly to an animal character in the story itself (which may or may not be used as a metaphor in the story itself).

The cover typography is well-balanced, except for the author name and “a novel,” which cause a slight rightward lean. It would be more visually appealing to have the name below Tremaine in the sans-serif text and remove “a novel” completely. The colors shine against the stark black ground.

Interior

This ARC (advanced reader copy) ebook version of Lady Tremaine was an unedited copy given to me for free in return for an honest review. While there may be edits prior to release, the interior formatting of the ebook that I read was clean, clear, and easy to read.

Did the design affect whether I bought the book?

The cover of Lady Tremaine was a factor in my clicking to read the description and ultimately to request the ARC for review. It is lovely and certainly catches the eye.

Lady Tremaine is not refashioned as a hero with impeccable moral standing. Instead, she is cast as a real woman, in circumstances beyond her control, exerting her own small power of choice and minimal agency to influence the outcomes of her own life and that of her children. Some of her is ugly, because that darkness is a reality that is accessible to anyone. The ability to see the inner workings of the narrator’s mind lets us peek into the ugliness, but understand the series of events that brings her to that place. Lady Tremaine is a fierce woman, yes, but she is also a mother. This alone amplifies every morsel of drive and ambition. While she is not always likable, it is hard not to respect the determination with which she forges her path.

First-person narration from the point of view of Lady Tremaine herself lets us dig into the psyche of the woman we generally assume to be a villain. Her sometimes unkind voice causes us to wrestle with the idea of seeing her as the hero of her own story. While Lady Tremaine, Ethel, is not an overtly emotional woman, the physicality and visceral memories that are described allow the emotion to soak into the body of the reader. Her reality becomes palpable. This kind of writing is so powerful because it gives the reader little choice but to come along for the ride. Resistance is futile.

Motherhood, stark and real, is an experience as universal as it is unique.

A fight against the patriarchal system of treating women as property. Alliances and value brought through the ties of marriage. Female agency and the subtle power wielded by women even in repressed societies.

Virtue versus values. Societal expectations and rules are measured against one’s own determination of what is right and what is wrong. “Goodness is always contextual.”

Changing perspectives on a tale so ingrained in our collective cultural memory is so daunting. Lady Tremaine is not a carefree fairytale filled with fairy godmothers and magic. It is gritty and harsh. The women in this story are not simple or flattened versions of girlhood, womanhood or motherhood. They are complex and nuanced and rail against being diminished to just a pretty thing, even when they are told again and again by society that that is exactly what they should want (even when they all to some degree start there).

Lady Tremaine took me by surprise. In the first third of the book, I was tentative; not sure I was picking up what the author was putting down. But then, all of a sudden, I was invested. The story took off, and I couldn’t stop reading it. By the end, I was fully team Lady Tremaine.

If you like a fairytale retelling with some grit, this is 100% for you. Particularly feminist leaning audiences will enjoy it more than someone looking for a love story. While there is some romantic subplot, Lady Tremaine is much more an exploration of motherhood and the lives of women and girls.

Lady Tremaine will certainly resonate with mothers, particularly mothers of teens and young adults. Read it when you question your own parenting skills – the struggle is real, but you are not alone. 

Do you ever find yourself rooting for the villain?

May your life be as full as your bookshelf and as long as your TBR list.

Happy Reading!