May 2021 Top Novel: “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo” by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Some books are quiet companions — comforting, familiar, the kind you sip tea with on a slow afternoon. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is not that kind of book. It’s a force of a novel, a glamorous gut punch wrapped in old Hollywood glitter. And once I started reading, I didn’t come up for air until I’d turned the last page.

At its heart, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is a fictional celebrity tell-all, told from the perspective of an aging starlet finally ready to bare the truth. The premise is simple: Evelyn Hugo, now a reclusive icon, invites an unknown journalist, Monique Grant, to write her biography. What unfolds is far from a tabloid exposé — it’s a layered exploration of ambition, sexuality, race, and the price of reinvention.

I was initially drawn to this book because I’ve always been fascinated by Hollywood’s golden era: the drama behind the photos, the contradictions between public persona and private chaos. But Evelyn’s story isn’t just about movie deals or red carpets. It’s about power, survival, and who gets to tell their story.

Each of Evelyn’s seven marriages is a lens into a different chapter of her life, and none of them are what you expect. She marries for protection, for status, for love, for control. She breaks hearts and has hers broken. She manipulates the press like a pro, all while hiding her most profound relationship, the one that never made headlines.

One of the most unexpected and compelling aspects of the novel is its treatment of bisexuality. Evelyn doesn’t label herself, but her love for both men and women is central to the narrative. It’s portrayed not as a plot twist, but as a truth , messy, real, and lived. As someone who’s often seen queer characters reduced to sidekicks or secrets, reading Evelyn’s unapologetic queerness felt both refreshing and necessary.

But this book isn’t just about Evelyn. It’s also about Monique, the woman chosen to tell the story, and the emotional bombshell that connects their lives. Monique’s arc is quiet but powerful. Through her, we’re reminded that storytelling is never neutral. Whose story gets told, and by whom, is never random.

Reading this book felt like watching a masterclass in character development. Evelyn is brilliant, manipulative, vulnerable, and brutally honest. You don’t always like her, but you can’t look away. And you respect her — because in a world that tried to define her, she carved her own legacy, one painful choice at a time.

There’s a moment in the book where Evelyn says: “People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth.” That line hit me. Because that’s what this book does — it offers a level of narrative intimacy that’s rare. It tells the truth, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

Taylor Jenkins Reid has a way of crafting stories that feel cinematic but emotionally precise. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is one of those rare novels that manages to be both addictive and deeply thoughtful. It makes you question the narratives we consume, and the ones we create to survive.

It also made me think about legacy. What we leave behind. Who will tell our story. And whether the truth (messy, complicated, contradictory) is ever enough.

This wasn’t just a favorite read of the month , it was a book that stayed with me long after I closed it. If you’ve ever wanted to disappear into someone else’s life for a while (and come back changed) this is the novel for you.