12 Mar Book Review: The Push by Ashley Audrain

Some books get under your skin, lingering long after you’ve closed the last page. The Push is one of those books. It’s haunting, chilling, and unflinchingly honest about motherhood, generational trauma, and the fear of not loving—or being loved by—your own child. If you’re looking for a psychological thriller that’s as emotionally devastating as it is suspenseful, this one is a must-read.

What’s it about?

Blythe Connor is determined to be the mother she never had. Coming from a line of women who struggled with motherhood—her own mother, Cecilia, was cold and distant, and her grandmother, Etta, was mentally unstable and abusive—Blythe is haunted by the fear that she will repeat the cycle of neglect and cruelty. Determined to break free from this dark legacy, she sets out to be the perfect mother to her first child, Violet.

But from the moment Violet is born, Blythe feels something is wrong. Violet is not like other babies. She doesn’t cry for attention, doesn’t seek comfort from her mother, and seems alarmingly indifferent to affection. Blythe struggles to connect with her, feeling a growing sense of unease and inadequacy. She tries to voice her concerns to her husband, Fox, but he dismisses her fears, insisting that Violet is perfectly normal.

As Violet grows older, her behavior becomes increasingly disturbing. At preschool, she is involved in aggressive incidents with other children, but she manipulates the adults around her into believing she’s innocent. At home, she becomes more defiant and manipulative, openly resenting Blythe while acting sweet and loving towards Fox. Blythe begins to feel like she’s losing her mind, isolated in her own home as her husband sides with Violet.

Things take a darker turn when Violet is involved in an incident that leaves another child seriously injured. Blythe is convinced that Violet is not only capable of harm but is doing it deliberately. However, Fox refuses to believe his daughter could be malicious and blames Blythe’s concerns on her unresolved issues with her own mother. This gaslighting only deepens Blythe’s sense of isolation and self-doubt.

Hoping to find the connection she lacks with Violet, Blythe becomes pregnant again and gives birth to a son, Sam. Unlike Violet, Sam is warm, affectionate, and loving. Blythe feels an instant bond with him, experiencing the maternal joy she always dreamed of. But this happiness is short-lived. As Violet grows more resentful of the attention Sam receives, Blythe begins to fear that her daughter’s jealousy could turn dangerous.

Her worst nightmare comes true when a tragic accident occurs, leaving Sam dead. Blythe is convinced that Violet deliberately caused the accident, but she has no proof. Fox refuses to believe it, blaming Blythe’s suspicions on her grief and mental instability. The tragedy tears their marriage apart, and Fox leaves her for another woman, taking Violet with him.

Alone and devastated, Blythe spirals into a deep depression, haunted by memories of her own childhood and the legacy of cruelty passed down through generations of women in her family. She begins to question her own sanity, wondering if she truly is the unloving, unhinged mother Fox believes her to be—or if she’s the only one who sees the darkness inside Violet.

Desperate for answers, Blythe starts researching her family history and uncovers disturbing truths about her grandmother, Etta, and her mother, Cecilia. She learns about the violence and neglect that shaped them, realizing that the cycle of trauma is deeper and more complicated than she ever imagined.

Years later, Blythe attempts to rebuild her life, but she is still haunted by the question of whether Violet is truly evil or if her own fears and failures as a mother created the monster she sees. Her need for closure drives her to reach out to Fox’s new wife, Gemma, who is now raising Violet as her own.

The chilling ending reveals that Gemma is beginning to notice the same disturbing behaviors in Violet that Blythe did. The novel closes on an ambiguous note, leaving readers to wonder whether Violet is truly evil or if the cycle of trauma and dysfunction is simply repeating itself.

The narrative is structured as a letter from Blythe to Fox, creating an intimate, confessional tone that makes the reader feel as though they’re being drawn into Blythe’s innermost thoughts and fears. This perspective keeps the reader questioning Blythe’s reliability, making it unclear whether Violet is genuinely dangerous or if Blythe’s perception is warped by her own history of maternal trauma.

What This Chick Thinks

It’s a psychological thriller, but it’s also a family drama

The Push is marketed as a psychological thriller, and it definitely delivers on suspense and tension, but it’s also an emotional family drama about generational trauma, maternal instinct, and the fear of failure. The story is told through Blythe’s perspective, and the narrative style makes you question everything she says. Is she an unreliable narrator, or is she the only one seeing the truth?

The book is structured as a letter to Fox, Blythe’s ex-husband, which adds an intimate, confessional feel. This makes her fears and doubts feel painfully real, even when they’re unsettling. The writing is raw, honest, and at times, brutally heartbreaking.

Blythe is a flawed but compelling narrator

Blythe is not a perfect mother, but she’s an incredibly human one. She struggles with the expectations of motherhood, the pressure to be nurturing and selfless, and the guilt of not feeling the bond she’s supposed to have with Violet. Her internal battle between love and fear is portrayed with brutal honesty, making her both relatable and deeply unsettling.

Her relationship with Fox is complex and painfully realistic. His refusal to see Violet’s dark side adds to Blythe’s sense of isolation, making her feel even more unhinged. But at the same time, Blythe’s own trauma and history of mental illness raise questions about her perception of events. The ambiguity of her narrative keeps you questioning what’s real and what’s imagined.

Violet is one of the creepiest kids in fiction

Violet is a brilliantly written character because she’s never overtly evil—at least, not in a way that can be proven. She’s calculating, manipulative, and cold, but she’s also a child, which makes her behavior even more disturbing. Is she deliberately tormenting Blythe, or is she just a difficult kid? The book walks this fine line perfectly, making Violet feel like a real child while also being utterly chilling.

Her interactions with Blythe are the most unsettling parts of the book. There’s a constant power struggle, with Violet manipulating situations to make Blythe look unstable. It’s psychological warfare, and it’s terrifying because Blythe can’t prove any of it. The tension is palpable, and it makes you question who the real villain is.

The exploration of motherhood is raw and unflinching

The Push isn’t just about a creepy kid or a mother losing her mind. It’s about the darker, unspoken side of motherhood—the guilt, the resentment, and the fear of not being good enough. It explores the pressure women face to be perfect mothers and the shame of not feeling the emotions society says you should feel.

The book also delves into the idea of maternal inheritance—how trauma, mental illness, and even cruelty can be passed down from one generation to the next. Blythe’s fear of becoming like her mother and grandmother adds a layer of psychological complexity that makes the story even more haunting.

Final Thoughts

The Push is an intense, thought-provoking novel that stays with you long after you’ve finished it. It’s a psychological thriller that digs deep into the complexities of motherhood, generational trauma, and the terrifying question of nature versus nurture.

It’s not an easy read—it’s dark, disturbing, and emotionally raw. But it’s also beautifully written and incredibly powerful. If you’re looking for a thriller that makes you think as much as it makes you shiver, this is it.

Rating: 9/10

Try it if you like

• We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver – Another haunting exploration of maternal guilt, unreliable narration, and a child who may or may not be a monster.
• Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn – A psychological thriller that keeps you questioning the narrator’s reliability and the truth behind a seemingly perfect family.
• The Perfect Nanny by Leila Slimani – A dark, chilling look at motherhood, trust, and the thin line between care and control.