Manguso's "Liars" as Marital Black Box

Source: newyorker.com

TL;DR

The story at a glance

Parul Sehgal reviews Sarah Manguso's novel "Liars," in which narrator Jane, a writer like Manguso, catalogs her exhausting marriage to filmmaker John amid constant moves, childcare, and his inadequacies. The piece situates the book amid recent novels and memoirs about women's marital discontent and self-focused sex, but critiques its narrow viewpoint. It appears now following the novel's July 2024 release.

Key points

Details and context

Sehgal frames "Liars" against trends in recent fiction, like millennial sex novels shifting to women's solo masturbation in books by Miranda July or Kimberly King Parsons, symbolizing self-understanding amid family demands. Bestsellers by Leslie Jamison, Maggie Smith, and others blame husbands for marital failures, not children—useless with kids, envious of wives' careers.

The novel differs from Jamison's "Splinters," which shows a loving marriage souring; here rot is evident early, with Jane's contempt and John's open flaws. Jane tallies her labor versus John's minimal efforts, like showering and daily chores by noon while he just uses the bathroom.

Sehgal notes Manguso's style: laconic, deadpan, once elaborately controlled, but now "blazing assurance" yields a partial tale with "blind spots" rather than omissions. Manguso thanks infidelity-support site Chump Lady, adopting terms like "chump," "fuckwit," "pick-me dance."[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

Key quotes

“ The smell of a woman’s cunt on her own fingers , I wrote in my notebook that night. It felt important.” —Jane, narrator of "Liars."[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

“By noon I’d showered, dressed, tidied the house of John’s shoes and clothes, put away laundry, swept the floor, watered the garden, moved boxes to the garage, cooked breakfast, eaten, done the dishes, taken out the recycling, handled correspondence, and made the bed. John had gotten up and taken a shit.” —Jane.[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

Why it matters

Recent literature spotlights white women writers in their forties navigating marriage, motherhood, and careers, questioning if husbands—not children—undermine creative lives. Readers see a stark ledger of unequal labor and slights in one woman's view, but critics note its one-sidedness limits fuller insight into marital dynamics. Watch responses to Manguso's autofiction amid ongoing divorce-memoir debates, though the novel's rage may polarize further.

What changed

Before: Jane balances writing, teaching, full parenting amid six moves and John's business failures, resenting his minimal help and affairs.

Now: John leaves for another woman; Jane begs him to stay but later achieves self-reclamation through divorce.

When: Husband leaves in 2020, per Manguso's statements reflected in the novel.[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

FAQ

Q: How does "Liars" portray everyday marriage failures?

A: Jane documents "pinpricks" like John incompletely washing dishes, melting seltzer bottles in the dishwasher, forgetting cutting boards, muesli, or party gifts, and buying excess sushi or comics. These accumulate alongside her full mornings of chores, cooking, and childcare. The book acts as a balance sheet of her labor versus his.[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

Q: What autofictional elements link Jane to Manguso?

A: Manguso's middle name is Jane; events overlap with her memoirs like "Ongoingness," and her husband left abruptly in 2020, as John does here. She gives John her ex's background and ambitions, and credits Chump Lady forums post-split.[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)

Q: Why does Sehgal critique the novel's viewpoint?

A: It tells a "thin and partial tale" solely from Jane's side, with "silences that feel more like blind spots" than deliberate omissions, unlike Manguso's prior works. John lacks dimensionality, and the blazing assurance founders on unexamined elements.[[2]](https://www.facebook.com/newyorker/posts/sarah-mangusos-new-novel-liars-is-told-in-tight-vignettes-gusts-of-fury-its-not-/901373665196491)

Q: What serious incidents does Jane report?

A: She slaps John; he shoves her. Once drunk, he passes out on a sidewalk; pregnant Jane mops his ER vomit fearing a brain bleed. He phones another woman nearby.[[1]](https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/08/12/liars-sarah-manguso-book-review)