I’m not quite sure how to describe this book. A Mother can relate on so many levels, a wife betrayed by her husband’s infidelity. Haunted by insecurity and her fathers physical abuse of her Mother, Lucy seems trapped in her own dark fairytale from a fictional creature of her childhood, a Harpy. The Harpy becomes Lucy’s way of identifying herself. Her unhappiness, her worth, explaining her dark thoughts and reactions. At times I was lost, not sure where this book was going but was already hooked, needing to see what Lucy would do next. Although I did not completely understand where the book led too, it was interesting for a normal, everyday plot twisted with dark descriptive symbols. The Harpy was intriguing and a good read for a mythical dark story intertwined into a real life reality for so many women.

Haunting.

The prose is perfection.

I don't know how to classify this book. Is it a cautionary tale, a modern myth, a parable, or a thriller? The story feels real, but the delivery and ending feels a little extra, like there's a layer beyond reality. Taking the reader through the looking glass. The observations on how women lose their individuality when becoming a wife and mother are scary while also being recognizable.

The prose is perfection. Poetry. It's so good I had to mention it twice to really drive home how good the writing is. I highlighted so many lines and reread them.

The Harpy floats between poetry and dark fairytale and I would recommend it to anyone.

I received a copy from NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Story: 4 stars
Character Development: 5 stars
Writing/prose: 5+ stars

This book has so many strengths, but I'd like to emphasize one that I think stands out the most. That is, its simple, generic story of infidelity (husband cheats on wife) being told in a heart-stopping, edge-of-your-seat manner that resembles a thriller. But the plot is very thin: it is riddled with monologue after monologue about harpies. But Megan Hunter, with her sparse and elegant prose, still manages to dish out the story with delicious suspense all the same. It's like Gone Girl, but more tame and human. More realistic. Fleshed out. Not glorified. And that ending! The ending is just batshit crazy. 

Thank you, Grove Atlantic, for providing me an e-ARC of this book via Netgalley!

I was intrigued by the premise and wanted to find out what would become of an affair and an arrangement that was bizarre and interesting. A man cheats on his wife and is soon found out and an arrangement is made. The wife can hurt the husband in different ways in order to pay him back for his deception and infidelity. Wow, NetGalley! Thank you for allowing me to read this amazing book.

Thank you Netgalley for this ARC of The Harpy by Megan Hunter.

Lucy and Jake and their two boys are a perfectly ordinary couple living in the quiet rhythm of domestic tranquility. But Lucy is quickly jarred into reality when she receives a phone call revealing a secret that Jake has been keeping from her. And how is Lucy going to respond to this news? Tapping into stories and memories, Lucy begins to emulate the mythical "Harpy," known for using punitive measures to get revenge. But how far is too far?

I honestly don't know how to review this one. I don't think I ever completely understood that I was practically reading a fairy tale instead of a novel. It was compelling, but also disturbing, and to be completely honest, what was the point? But that's why I'm not great with fairy tales and fantasy, because I struggle if I can't see the modern day lesson and value in it.

"Nobody thinks they will become that woman until it happens. They walk down the street, knowing it will never be them.

They have no idea how it is: like the turning of a foot on a crack in the pavement, the slip of an ankle from the kerb, a falling, a single instant, the briefest action, changing it all."

The Harpy is not a quiet novel so much as it is a simmering one. Confronted by her husband's infidelity, Lucy is left discombobulated, unsure what, exactly, she is supposed to do. There is a lot in this novel about the small but accumulative indignities of motherhood, the way Lucy constantly feels subject to the barbs of not being enough: as a mother, as a wife, as a homemaker. In particular, she struggles to address a low-level malaise and restlessness that seem to operate all the time in the routines of her very middle-class, very unexceptional everyday life.

"In this place, most husbands had highly paid jobs, travelled a lot. Most wives, despite their multiple degrees, did all the school runs, counted the days until their men returned from Stockholm or Singapore. When something broke through - a disease, a death, a divorce - it was like a meteorite, something cosmic landing in our lives."

And then, in the midst of all this already-existing turmoil, Lucy finds herself thrust in the role of the Cheated-On Woman. "Role," here, is a resonant word, for Lucy is keenly aware that the story of her husband's infidelity belongs to the wider, all-too-common story of husbands cheating on their wives. How, then, is she to act? How to absorb the shock of this revelation into the the family she has with her husband, her two young sons? The novel as a whole is an answer to those questions, though it's certainly not a simple or uncomplicated one.

"I could not think of a way to confront Jake that did not feel scripted, stilted, too cheesy or on the nose. I could fling myself at him, pummel his chest with my fists, demand that he tell me everything. I could, carefully and without crying, cut every single one of his work shirts into shreds."

Tying these themes together is the harpy, a creature from Greek and Roman mythology, a winged predator, half-woman, half-bird. Hunter's choice to align Lucy's unexceptional life with this exceptional creature is compelling—more importantly, though, it works. It gives what might've otherwise been a trite, overdone story an edge and a more fresh outlook.

Though I typically tend to avoid novels that seem to be about people wallowing in their sadness because their (fairly privileged) middle-class lives are too boring for them :(((, I didn't find that to be the case with The Harpy. It kept me engaged, and I really sympathized with Lucy. It's a short novel with short chapters and writing that is simple but effective, one that, in the end, is about identity and violence as they intersect and unfold in the realms of motherhood and marriage.

Thanks so much to Grove Atlantic for providing me with an e-ARC of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review!

I always love a good tale of revenge, but The Harpy made me feel weird, like I was watching something I wasn’t meant to see. It also made me feel like I had just bit a hunk of flesh out of someone. Sounds morbid I know, but books that make me feel this strongly tend to stick with me.

After Jake cheats on Lucy, he agrees to let her hurt him three times as penance. Lucy’s revenge escalates and she becomes something...else. There’s lots of magical realism, and I think it really works here.

Truly middle of the road for me. While I was interested in some of the commentary of what it means to be a wife and a mother the overall flow of the novella did not work for me. It appears I may be in the minority here so I hope everyone else enjoys the interspersed info/lore about harpies a lot more interesting than I did.

The rule of three is a fascinating thing. Three things, three times you’re permitted to do something, and it gives you the time to form plans designed to cause the utmost harm. This is what this book looks at, along with the facets of motherhood and sexuality that a lot of us would prefer not to think about but find ourselves consumed by regularly. This novella covers how cheating impacts a couple, how something irrevocably broken keeps up the illusion of being whole whilst ensuring that inside, they continue to rot. The obsession of the main character with the Harpy of lore fits very well into this dynamic, providing the reader with the context of a far more rich and less misogynistic view of the creatures. There’s a lot of discussion contained of so many things that affect women every day- the fears of how sexuality appears post-childbirth, how women push aside many facets of themselves just to ensure that their husbands and children are comfortable, and how other women present themselves not as comrades but instead competition.

A fascinating novella with a huge amount of commentary as well as wonderful character development and demonstration of the ways women tear themselves apart for those they love.

Thanks to NetGalley for my review copy!

Harpies are mythical creatures, birds with the faces of women who punish men for the things they do.

The protagonist Lucy is a thirty something, mother of two who feels a connection with the mythical Harpy since her childhood.

Her world is turned upside down by a phone call that informs her of her husband, Jake’s extramarital affair.

The betrayal pierces her soul and the discontent and resentment brewing in her mind unleash the harpy within her, Lucy and Jake make a pact in order to continue their life together that Lucy will hurt Jake three times and avenge herself.

The writing flows smooth and is fierce, hauntingly lyrical and vivid.
Narrated with a dark and deep voice the story evokes a sense of suffocation, like that of being inside a cave, only it is the mind of Lucy.

Though Lucy loves her children she appears to be inwardly resentful of her status as a mother more specifically of the difficult births she underwent.

The ending comes off as surprisingly brutal and unexpected but from the pov of the protagonist she becomes who she believes herself to be, at least in her own mind.

Lucy and Jake see to have it all; a beautiful home, two wonderful little boys, and everything figured out. But soon Lucy finds out that her husband is having an affair with a workmate. Jake swears that it will never happen again and they come up with a plan to hold Jake accountable for his actions. Lucy will hurt Jake three times so Jake knows how hurt Lucy is. During this time, Lucy starts to transform into a mythical creature that she has always connected with, the harpy. The Harpy is about motherhood and marriage, control and revenge, and I could not have loved it more. Megan Hunter's writing is gorgeous and the cover of the novel is beautiful. I cannot wait to read more from this author,

Much thanks to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic/Grove Press for the ARC.

A stunning story about marriage and infidelity. The Harpy is a wife's reflection on her marriage, womanhood, and motherhood. It was a quick read. The story keeps you engaged from the beginning to the end. Loved it!

This was an interesting book for me. I enjoyed parts of it, but there are some parts that are just really weird and I couldn't figure out what was happening. I guess that Lucy thought she was actually turning into a harpy?? Clearly, this is my issue, not the book's because the writing is beautiful and I know many people will be able to fully appreciate this book. I think I'm just not enough. of an abstract thinker for this one.

The Harpy by Megan Hunter is a piece of fiction I am unable to categorize in a specific genre since it is incredibly unique.

This is one of the most fascinating stories I’ve ever read. The protagonist is a woman named Lucy. She is a wife and a mother. At least she sees herself as only that. After marrying her husband Jake and becoming a mother she abandons her PhD and her career. This results in her staying at home and becoming a shadow of herself. The plot is intense and fast-paced, so in the first few pages she finds out her husband Jake is having an affair with his work associate Vanessa. Lucy’s reaction is thoroughly explained since we are experiencing the story from her point of view. We get to have a look inside of her psyche as she experiences this big life-changing event. She compares her own mental state to her knowledge of women’s reactions to cheating husbands in media such as soap-operas, movies, and books, where women react violently and strongly. She is bewildered by the revelation that she doesn’t have a need to act as those women do. We see her pulling away from Jake, but not once does she think about leaving him. She becomes very passive-aggressive and it is interesting to see that her pain and disappointment manifests physically – she is continuously sick and vomits. Throughout the book, we also find out that she is deeply traumatized by her pregnancies and the brutal complications that followed the birth of her sons. This results in her fear of doctors and even, subconsciously, sex. Also, she constantly questions her capability of being a good mother and a wife, even though she sees herself as only that. This is among other things due to her memories of her toxic parents and the upbringing she had.

And now we come to her hyper fixation on the mythological creature Harpy. I’ve decided to write it capitalized since she doesn’t see the Harpy as a general term for all such creatures, but I believe she sees it as a singular entity. As a child, she first came across the Harpy in one of her picture books and immediately became fascinated by it. The ruthlessness of the creature was appealing to her. However, she also saw it as something rightful, something worthy of punishing those she deemed morally wrong.

“I asked my mother what a harpy was, and she told me: they punish men for the things they do.”

At first, she was in fact scared of it, found it gruesome, but as she digests the tragedy of her marriage she starts to relate herself more and more to the Harpy. This becomes a focal point of the story after Lucy and Jake come to a certain agreement. They decide that in order for Lucy to forgive him, Jake must let her punish him three times. The symbolism of the number is important to Lucy since she connects it to her time spent going to church as a child – the Holy Trinity for example, but even more so Saint Peter’s three betrayals.

“Three. I’d said it out loud, after he did. It made a kind of neat sense, something religious about its structure. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Peter betrayed Jesus three times. A familiar number, for a good Christian girl like me. I remember being allowed to ring the bell, in church: three time, I was told.”

As she does these three acts we see her becoming less and less remorseful, but at the same time, she fights the urge to fell remorse since it is in her eyes the right thing to be. Every punishment is more brutal than the previous one. But it is very interesting that Lucy isn’t consciously aware of that nor of the consequences of the punishment. She thinks very little about the outcome as she punishes him and is even a bit confused it comes to pass. Then she starts to force herself to feel remorse but often fails. She slowly loses empathy. It is also worth noting that as the punishings start, she no longer feels sick nor vomits.

“He would know – as I had known for years, forever – how easy it was for a body to be destroyed.”

Furthermore, even though she is so overwhelmed by doubt of the capability of being a mother she subconsciously resents it and often thinks about things that could have happened to her children resulting in their death. However, every time such a thought passes through her mind she compares her behavior to other mothers that had perhaps done something that endangered their child. This makes her think very highly of herself and she puts herself on a pedestal of being a perfect mother.

When she thinks of Vanessa, her husband’s mistress, she glorifies her. Primarily by comparing herself to Vanessa. She sees her as “sophisticated and unblemished by child-bearing or rearing”. Everything Lucy is not. This awakens even deeper resentment towards Vanessa in her.

Lucy’s transformation into the Harpy is both literal and metaphoric, but not thoroughly explained leaving this book in the realm of magical realism. I like this very much since as much as it shows Lucy’s character development, it also leaves the reader craving more and needing an answer. The answer, since it is non-existent, is upon the reader to find himself.
As Lucy transforms, we watch her lose herself. She sometimes doesn’t recognize herself anymore.

“My hands were no longer my own, I began to suspect. The belonged to someone else. Mrs Stevenson, perhaps. The woman who married Jake, who became a wife and a mother, who would never be a real person again.”

The writing. It is beautiful. There is no other word I can come up with to explain it. Even when explaining the most gruesome of acts, Megan Hunter accomplishes to use an enchanting lyrical tone. This way, the story flows and seems almost dream-like.

There actually aren’t many bad things to point out about this piece of fiction. I enjoyed it deeply. And one other thing, which not many authors succeed in, is the way Megan Hunter builds the atmosphere. I was pulled into the story instantly because of it. It helped me understand the protagonist, Lucy even more since I was so disturbed the whole time. I am very impressed by the author for this particular reason, among all the rest.

Must I say anything about the beautiful cover? I couldn’t find the name of the artist. All I can say is that it captures the story, the aesthetic, and the reflects it perfectly.

All that is left to say is that I am excited to read more from Megan Hunter!



I received this book in exchange for an honest review.

The Harpy is a dark, haunting tale about marriage, motherhood, and womanhood. I love how the story flows and twists. Nothing felt forced or out of place. It has been a very long while that I read a story like this. Thank you Megan Hunter.

Thank you NetGalley and publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

I absolutely adored this book. The characters were so real that it sucked you in and made you feel a part of the story. You didn't want it to end!

In her debut novel(la) The End We Start From, Megan Hunter imagines a post-apocalyptic scenario where waters are inexplicably rising, laying waste to towns and cities. Many critics read in it a timely warning about climate change. However, there was also a sub-text to the novella which one could easily overlook – I interpreted The End We Start From as a celebration of motherhood and the sense of hope that a new birth brings with it.

The theme of motherhood also looms large in Megan Hunter’s second novella The Harpy, but here it is conveyed in much darker and more pessimistic hues. Indeed, The Harpy is an indictment of a patriarchal society that first expects women to be faithful wives, perfect mothers and dutiful homemakers and then sidelines them precisely for having fulfilled these expectations. In the novella, this critique of patriarchy is eventually extended to comprise the theme of domestic violence and the way that “forgiveness” is expected of (female) victims as a means to maintain the status quo. This widening of the theme leads to some loss of focus, but the work’s message remains a powerful one.

If, in her first novella, Hunter gave her personal twist to the post-apocalyptic genre, here she ventures into “domestic thriller” territory, albeit laced with mythical elements and more than a twist of horror.

Since her childhood, Lucy, the novella's protagonist is fascinated by harpies – legendary creatures of vengeance, birds with a female face and torso, “their eyes pale slits, their hair thick black lines, flying in shapes behind their heads”. At University, Lucy opts for Classics and chooses harpies as an object of research. Years later, now settled down with her husband Jake and tethered to a daily routine of caring for their two young boys, the harpies seem like a long-forgotten obsession. Until, that is, Lucy learns that Jake has been sleeping with a work colleague, Vanessa. Older, sophisticated and unblemished by child-bearing or rearing, Vanessa seems everything that Lucy is not. Jake admits to his infidelity and agrees to submit himself to an exemplary punishment. Thus begins Lucy’s change into the mythical harpy.

The Harpy manages to be at the same time a hyper-realist portrayal of the frustrations within a contemporary family and a mythical tale ripe with symbolism, told throughout in Hunter’s trademark poetic prose. The final pages are particularly haunting as the distinction between fantasy and reality becomes increasingly blurred. Some passages are not for the faint-hearted – but, given the subject-matter, some disturbing images are hardly out of place.

This is another strong showing from Megan Hunter. Clearly, the success of her debut was no fluke!

A book that grabbed me from the first scenes as Lucy discovers her husband Jake has been cheating on her.As there life she thought was perfect unravels she seeks retribution.,The scenes of the punishment she inflicts will make you gasp.A whirlwind of a story so haunting so well written an author to follow a book that I devoured.#netgalley#groveatlantic

Lucy has given up her professional goals to focus on being a mother, and she draws some satisfaction from her choice. At least until a man shows up to tell Lucy her husband has been having an affair with his wife. Jake vows to change his ways and to atone for his sins and make Lucy feel better, she will be able to hurt him three times. How much Lucy comes to enjoy these punishments and how this game changes her and her marriage is a voyage to a dark and unfamiliar place

I read this in one sitting, what a ride! It’s all about the revenge a wife enacts on her cheating husband, and what happens when it goes too far. This book was beautifully written, really enjoyed the author’s style.