The Second Woman is one of the most intense books I have read for a long time and it also has one of the most unreliable narrators. The narrator, Sandrine, has problems with confidence and her body image. Her childhood sounded difficult and obviously had an impact on her ability to interact with colleagues and potential friends. But when she meets a man and his son, Mathias, after an appeal to find his missing wife her life changes. And in many ways not in a good way.

Throughout this novel her man remains nameless. He isn’t the only one, there are a handful of others and I feel this was because the author ( and character) felt that giving them a name gave them an identity they didn’t deserve. Her man was the main one, I think the others weren’t named because of their refusal or ignorance of her predicament.

At first things appeared fairly calm in their relationship. Sandrine knows that his wife’s disappearance and presumed death has had an impact on his and Mathias’s life and she is slowly getting closer to the young boy and has an amicable relationship with his maternal grandparents. But her relationship with the man has started to get volatile. He resents the constant presence of the police, especially the female officer, and when the first wife reappears you started to see his true personality.

Initially there were times I struggled to believe Sandrine. I wondered if she really was in a relationship with the man, whether the first wife had reappeared and it even crossed my mind that she was the first wife. But the more I read I started to see what was really happening. I started to see her as others saw her, not her own thoughts regarding her image and her popularity. I saw that there were some people who cared about her safety and wanted to help her.

As the danger levels increased I felt more horrified. Not just at the abuse she and others around her received but also at the lack of understanding over her situation. I hate to think that this is a true reflection of attitude but sadly I expect it is.

I read this book as part of a read along within a group and really enjoyed seeing other readers thoughts.

This is the first Readalong I have joined for Pushkin Press and it did not disappoint. The only thing I have to say is this book is full of violence and rape. This storyline is very focused around abusive relationships but I found the premise very interesting especially when the first women was supposed to be dead and turns up alive and on the news.

I wanted to like this, and possibly just didn’t give it enough of a chance, but after reading about a quarter of the novel I just couldn’t take any more of how much the protagonist hated herself. There was not a glimmer of self awareness that her partner - the husband of the missing “first woman” - was in fact abusive and maybe she, the second woman, wasn’t totally worthless. But, as I say, I couldn’t keep going with it so cannot speak to what happens later in the narrative.

I’m always looking to read more translated fiction and I am so thrilled to have the opportunity to read The Second Woman which really is utterly brilliant. The story follows Sandrine, the titular ‘second woman’ who falls deeply in love with a man whose wife disappeared under strange circumstances. When the wife suddenly reappears with no memory, Sandrine has to re-examine everything she believes about the man she is building a life with.

I was totally gripped by The Second Woman from start to finish, unable to tear myself away from the almost unbearably tense narrative. Sandrine, as we first meet her, is a lonely woman consumed by self-loathing and a violent hatred towards her body. It is harrowing to read the depth of her sadness and the cruelty she inflicts on her own self esteem. Sandrine is a truly unreliable narrator in the sense that her perspective is so skewed by the way she feels about herself that as a reader you cannot really believe in her recollection. It is testament to the sensational writing that Sandrine’s insular narrative is so powerfully compelling. There is also a great deal of vivid, often macabre imagery peppered throughout that draws the reader fully into the unsettling story. The Second Woman almost feels like horror, or a very dark fairytale and actually put me in mind a little of Angela Carter’s ‘The Bloody Chamber’ which is a compliment of the highest regard. The superb quality of the translation must also be noted, the writing flows beautifully. I really couldn’t recommend more highly this intense book which examines violence, coercive control and gaslighting with cutting intelligence. The Second Woman deftly maintains a taut and sinister sense of foreboding that will grip the reader in its clutches until the conclusion. Marvellously good.

What happens when you meet somebody and you think that fate has brought you together, but you are in fact the second woman in his life? What happens when the first woman makes a sudden reappearance after going missing for two years, threatening to ruin the life you have built together? And...what happens when that man you have been living with begins to unravel - what exactly was his involvement in the first woman's disappearance, and should you be concerned for your own safety as well as hers?

Sandrine is a woman who was emotionally abused by her father, and as a result isn't familiar with any other type of healthy relationship with men. She feels that the way she is treated by her controlling partner is normal - his behaviour is to be blamed on other people and other circumstances causing him to act nastily. She would never consider the fact that he is unstable (possibly dangerous), and is having an increasingly negative impact on not only her, but also on his young son.

The Second Woman started as I'd imagined it would, but I quickly realised that it was going in a very different and much darker direction than I was expecting. It was bleak and emotional, hard-hitting and, at times, uncomfortable to read. Some of the actions described were brutal, and there was a particularly heartbreaking moment when despite ticking box after box of descriptions of controlling behaviours, Sandrine desperately tries to cling onto the few things he does not do to her, rather than accepting that there is something wrong.

Altogether, The Second Woman was an incredibly sobering account of domestic violence that will stay with me for a long time. The perfect choice for fans of Keeper by Jessica Moor and Kate Reed Petty's True Story.

Sandrine is a woman who hates herself. Until she watches the news, and sees a man whose wife has gone missing, presumed dead. She is drawn to him; he makes her feel worthy. But when his wife reappears, the police claim he is an abuser. Is it too late for Sandrine?

The Second Woman is absolutely phenomenal. A chilling, intense thriller, which circles around domestic abuse and controlling relationships. At first, I was unsure what to think, as we encounter a self-deprecating protagonist who hates herself, with poor body image issues and a constant need to refer to her weight. But as the book progresses, it becomes clear that Sandrine thinks this way because the men in her life have told her to do so. Sandrine is a victim.

Louise Mey has created a claustrophobic novel which is so enthralling and draws its readers into abusive relationships. The manipulation, the pain, the fear are all so incredibly real and, just like Sandrine, we can’t escape. I struggled to put this book down, and now that I’ve stopped reading, I’ve finally been able to catch my breath. My heart bleeds for Sandrine and, sadly, this story is reality for many people. Mey presents the intricacies and subtleties of an abusive relationship in a very clear, honest way. There are times when life is perfect, and times when it is far from it. It’s real, and it’s raw. At time, literature can romanticise violence against women. This book does not do that. It delves into the violence, and exposes it.

If you can handle the subject content, I’d wholeheartedly recommend this book. It is excellent, a solid 5⭐️ from me.

The Second Woman is a gripping and visceral domestic-based psychological thriller about the impact of trauma and abuse on a family. Sandrine doesn't love herself and describes herself as ugly. She finds her body too big, her face too bland. Shy and uncomfortable, she stammers when you raise your voice and remains largely silent during lunches with colleagues. She is a lonely woman, deeply complex and marked by a body that she does not assume. But none of that matters the day she meets her man, Mr Langois, and he makes room for her. A place in his house, near his son, his house where a woman is missing. The first one. His first partner. She has disappeared, she is presumed dead, and Sandrine, discreet, loving and grateful, slips into this absence doing her best to bring back a smile to the grieving husband and little Mathias. But it's not really her stepson, and it's not really her man, the first woman was there before, the first woman was there first. And the day she reappears alive, Sandrine's world crumbles and falls apart.

This is a compelling and thought-provokingly profound mystery thriller and it becomes increasingly chilling as it progresses. The twists and turns are mainly related to the origin of the disappearance of the first woman who gradually comes to join the life of Sandrine in an insidious or even perhaps demonic way. It's very well written and tells the story of the escalation of a woman who just wanted to be loved, to love in return, to afford a life like any other, to hold her man's hand in the street, to experience all his live and affection and to fall asleep and wake up with the one she loves. An obsession linked to poor confidence that will lead her into a swampy labyrinth where shameless monsters roam. The suspense comes in rich waves and the atmosphere becomes fraught with unbearable tension when Langois’ wife returns and begins her manipulation. A powerful story about the psychological mechanisms of violence, this is an immersive read which is anxiety-inducing but that you still somehow can't turn away from.

I really struggled with the translation of this, I managed to read it but took me a while, I enjoyed the bits i could understand but i did get lost.

The Second Woman - Louise Mey

Sandrine is single, suffers from low self-esteem and considers herself unsociably shy, fat and frumpy.

She sees the tearful Monsieur Langlois on the news, his wife has gone missing, her clothes found dumped on farmland. Sandrine feels compelled to help join in the public search, in the hope of meeting Monsieur Langlois in person.

So begins an unpredictable and emotionally compelling novel, we get to know Sandrine's character very well, her troubled history with men (starting with her Dad), her severe self-loathing and regular (though mild) self harm.

It is deeply emotionally involving, at times harrowing but never gratuitous, but it feels real and vital. There is a vibrant intensity to it and I found it compelling reading.

Some may find it slow to start, and I know a lot of readers wouldn't choose to read a book with these themes, but I really can't fault it for what it does.

If you have read Behind Closed Doors or Into The Darkest Corner, The Second Woman can certainly hold it head up in such quality company amongst the very best books around these themes.


Thanks to Netgalley and Pushkin Vertigo

When I read the description of this book I was instantly drawn to it. Although I had two books to read before this one I thought I’d read the first chapter and boy after that I couldn’t put it down! It was dark very dark but so cleverly written. Well done to the author will be on the lookout for future releases.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

A terryfyingly realistic story of domestic abuse and Co ercive control. It was dark well written with a great story line. We'll done xx

The Second Woman follows the story of Sandrine, a lonely and sad woman who finds herself drawn to the crying man on the TV despairing over his wife's disappearance; soon, she is living in his home and caring for his child, happily in love. Then, the first woman is found, with no memory of how she disappeared, and her whole world comes crashing down.

This book is immensely dark, enthralling and riveting. Sandrine is not a reliable narrator; her difficult relationship with her self image and childhood clouds all she thinks about. This makes seeing the world through her eyes very blinding and allows the novel to creep up on you, gradually holding you in its anxiety inducing grip. It describes the all consuming, intense feelings of domestic abuse and will have you feeling suffocated. This story will not leave you for a long time.

I particularly enjoyed the ending - my heart was beating fast, my throat dry, I truly felt immersed in the situation, anxiously turning the pages to find the answers I desperately needed. If you're looking for a psychological thriller written in a captivating style, this is the novel for you.

This is an interesting novel, with a very fascinating progression in narration, feelings and their expression.

It took a while for me to get into the style but it was worth the push.

I can't reveal the theme because that is exactly the point of this captivating book. Congratulations to the author. Looking forward to the next one.

I received an advanced reader’s copy in exchange for an honest review

This book is dark -almost too dark to review. And let’s be clear, this is not a psychological thriller, this is a book about domestic violence. A greedy, kitchen sink realism, literary novel about domestic violence. I was glad to have the emotional distance of translation from whatever this writer must’ve put down on paper. It was definitely a five star knock out, but you should know what you’re getting into. This one will be with me for a very long time

We probably can't have enough books that dissect domestic abuse and coercive control, but this book treads well-worn fictional ground. It's also at the more unsubtle end of the spectrum with a woman who has internalized self-loathing for her body and a man who is so clearly monstrous. The prose style is very 'told' with little dialogue. An unsurprising trajectory but a topic that cannot be overdone.