The Nursery - Szilvia Molnar - ★★★

AUTHOR: Szilvia Molnar

GENRE: Literary Fiction.

RATING: 3 stars.

In a Nutshell: An unfiltered look at new motherhood and post-partum depression. Loved the theme, but not the writing structure. Won’t recommend it to anyone who wants to experience motherhood some day – this book might turn you off the idea for life!

Written from the first person point of view of an unnamed narrator, the book gives us a glimpse of this new mother’s ponderings and desire for normalcy. Her narration broadly covers three topics: her life with her husband John before motherhood; her current state of mind struggling with being a new mother to her baby (nicknamed “Button”) and suffering from Post-Partum Depression (PPD); and her introspections over various topics such as her work as a translator or her Google searches.

As you can see, I have skipped my usual ‘Story Synopsis’ section in this review. The reason for that is simple: there’s no story in the book! It feels like one endless stream-of-consciousness monologue, flittering across the three broad themes I mentioned earlier. Reading someone’s ramblings for almost 200 pages is no easy task, especially for me. The book also becomes quite repetitive in thoughts and situations. Then again, this might be the point of the plot: to show how new motherhood involves nothing but the same thoughts and actions repeated ad nauseam.

There’s no doubt that the topic of PPD is a brilliant one. The blurb describes this as a ‘visceral and revelatory portrait of a woman struggling with maternal fear and its looming madness’, and I could not have put it better, ‘visceral’ being the key word. I have never seen any book spotlight PPD in such a stark way. It offers an unrestrained view at how much some mothers struggle with their new role as a carer to a helpless infant, while still recovering from the physical brutality of delivering a baby.

As a mother who has been through PPD, I could empathise with many of the narrator’s feelings, especially when she felt frustrated at being the only one with a change in lifestyle while her husband continued as before. The writing choice of letting the narrator stay unnamed while the two men in the story have regular names, also highlights the gender disparity during postnatal experiences, with the narrator being nothing but a ‘mother’ now but John can continue being the same old John. The simple line she tells John—‘You have a choice.’—speaks volumes. John is portrayed almost like a typical traditional husband, caring but in his own way and only when it is convenient to him, without realising how his wife is struggling to cope.

At the same time, it should be noted that the narrator’s PPD was too extreme, and should not be taken as a standard manifestation of the problem, though it is possible in reality. As such, the plot doesn’t cover even a single positive aspect of motherhood, which makes it brutal on the senses. There's hardly any positive word about baby Button. She's described more as a selfish leech who just cares about getting her milk, which IS true of newborns, I suppose. Oh well!

The introductory note describes the book as having funny moments, but in all honesty, I found nothing in it to laugh about. Some scenes that could be perceived by some readers as humorous were too vulgar for my taste. Some other lines that seem funny—"I used to be a translator and now I am a milk bar."—are more about her frustration than her funny bone.

Where I hated the book was in the style of delivery. This is the kind of literary fiction where thoughts go with the flow without any structure. (Somewhat like Geetanjali Shree’s writing in ‘Tomb of Sand’.) There’s no linearity to the events, and there are no happy moments to provide respite. Almost the entire book comes to us through the haze of self-pity and depression, which makes the reading experience feel almost suffocating.

The content could be highly triggering for those who have gone through PPD. Also, expectant mothers or those desirous of becoming a mother: do yourselves a favour and don’t read this book. Motherhood comes with many pains – both physiological and psychological, but it is so much more than just this, even if you have as extreme PPD as our narrator does. I guess that leaves just us battle-weary moms as target readers! 😄 (Of course, men can read it as well, but how many men want to read a literary fiction about PPD? Let’s have a show of hands!)

As a debut work of literary fiction, this book does have many merits. But its style of delivery made it just a good read for me, though it could have been ‘great’ with such a relevant topic. Read it when you are in the mood for a book about the pain of post-pregnancy days than about the joys of motherhood.

I loved and hated the book in equal measure. Thus, the midway rating.

PS: Even until a few minutes ago, I didn’t get the cover at all! It is only a peek at the other reviews that revealed what the cover art is supposed to represent – an areola with the milk leaking from the nipple. Now that I know this, I can’t unsee it, and I agree that it makes perfect sense for the story. But honestly, if so many readers can’t even recognise what the cover is supposed to indicate, what’s the point of its brilliance?  

My thanks to Knopf, Pantheon, and NetGalley for the DRC of “The Nursery”. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.