Years ago, I saw a play performed by Melbourne Theatre Company called Home, I’m Darling. It begins with a 1950s couple – him returning from a tiring day at work, her waiting with his slippers and the newspaper. Except that it’s not the 1950s. It’s a ‘modern’ couple who play at husband and wife from the fifties. Was life ‘better’ then, when roles and expectations were clearly defined? This is what the play examined, as the couples’ life butted against that of their ‘modern’ friends.
I was thinking about the play as I read Recipe for a Perfect Wife by Karma Brown. It’s a dual narrative novel, told from the perspective of Nellie Murdoch, a 1950s housewife, and present-day Alice Hale, who has left her city career and reluctantly moved to the suburbs. Alice and her husband move into the house once owned by Nellie – it’s a ‘fixer-upper’, and not something Alice wanted. Alice is also keeping a secret from her husband – a workplace incident was the trigger for her leaving her job and agreeing to the move. It doesn’t make for a happy home, nor does her lack of progress on the novel she’s wanting to write. When Alice discovers Nellie’s annotated cookbook, she becomes absorbed in life in the 1950s.
Nellie has her own secrets – her enviable garden, a husband who seems to adore her, and her ability to turn out the perfect Bombe Alaska is a facade. As Alice learns more about Nellie, the parallels between their lives are revealed.
There are a few plot twists – some more obvious than others – but each played to the themes of power, loyalty and living in a patriarchal society.
I enjoyed Brown’s inclusion of excerpts from 1950s guides to managing a household. They’re outrageous by today’s standards, and yet used cleverly in the book to introduce Alice’s chapters, where, within context, they highlighted her struggles and fears. For example, this from a 1930s Bath Chronicle article, as Alice procrastinates about her writing –
Nothing destroys the happiness of married life more than the lazy, slovenly wife.
The main question we ask about the books we read for Literary Wives is: What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?
The answer, through a 1950s lens – fairly grim! That said, while the ‘window-dressing’ for women’s challenges as wives may be very different now compared to the fifties, the core problems are the same – imbalance of power; the bind of biology; the double-standards of a patriarchal society. Additionally, the problems faced by both Nellie and Alice – their struggle for a sense of identity and seeking fulfillment, were similar despite the decades that separated them. Alice’s kindly older neighbour, Sally, says to her –
“…the hardest question we have to ask ourselves in this life is, ‘Who am I?’ Ideally, we answer it for ourselves, but be warned that others will strive to do it for you – so don’t let them.”
The thing that struck me most about this story was the role other women play in a marriage. I don’t mean infidelity, I mean friends and acquaintances. For Nellie, her ‘friends’ were not people who she could confide in – quite the opposite, they were judgemental, untrustworthy, and invested in maintaining their own facade. You’d like to think that if one had cracked, they might have found a genuine connection. Her only true friend was a neighbour, a much older woman, widowed, who was observant and kind.
Alice had one close friend, Bronwyn. Although they had previously shared everything, she failed to tell Bronwyn about her trouble at work, and the impact of this omission reverberates later in the story.
Essentially, these ‘other women’ either perpetuate the expectations of the role of ‘wife’, or expose the weaknesses (for want of a better word) in the arrangement. Those perpetuating made being a wife seem a very lonely experience. Those exposing and providing support are the sorts of women we want in our lives. I think I noticed this element of the story having just returned from an eight day trip with a group of women who are of the supportive kind. A colleague labelled my trip ‘women’s business’, and on reflection, she was right – we spent our time away discussing health, family, work, and life in general, and I was reminded of the immeasurable value and importance of dear friends.
See Rebecca’s, Kay’s and Naomi’s reviews, too!
3/5
…she hummed to the radio. Plated canapés. Shrimp cocktail. Hollywood Dunk. Lettuce salad with Roquefort dressing. Chicken à la King. Baked Alaska. Canceling was not an option…

This sounds really interesting.
I would love to have seen that play.
I like the sound of this. I remember when Home I’m Darling was on but I never found out what it was about. I should have looked into it more!
Wonderful review, Kate. I’m so glad you’ve joined us! Well done for avoiding spoilers — my Lit Wives reviews are usually spoiler-y because I feel like to comment on the marriage theme I generally have to reveal the outworkings of the plot. I like how you’ve focussed on the role that other women play in the novel. Nellie’s mother would be another — she passed on to her daughter a very negative impression of men.
Like Rebecca, I love that you talked about the other women. It was also interesting to compare Alice and Nellie’s mothers and the way they brought up their daughters.
That play sounds so interesting – I would love to know how it turns out. In a way, I can see how it might be easier to have clear roles for men and women in marriages, even if they aren’t ideal. The roles we have now are often unclear because there are so many variables and everyone’s life is different. You have to make up your own roles (and expectations) as you go along. Which means constant communication – something that’s not always easy.
I love the quote from Sally that you included.
That’s a nice point you make about the support (or lack of it) from other women. You also were stronger on the patriarchal aspects than I was and maybe a little nicer about Alice, whom I thought made a lot of her own problems (not all of them, though!). You also did an excellent job of not revealing too much of the plot, which is sometimes hard. I try very hard not to do that, too.
I’ve followed Literary Wives for a fair while through Naomi’s blog. It’s good to see you anchoring an Australian end. As the oldest son of a 1950s marriage it all feels very close to home. Even now I can’t judge whether or not mum was dissatisfied, but I don’t think so. Having the roles so clearly defined was a comfort, I think, and probably saw the marriage through bad patches that might have led to derailment a generation later.
When I think about my own mother, (married in the late sixties) I know she felt robbed of opportunity – she was told to leave school at 16, and had the choice of becoming a secretary or nurse (because her older sister had filled the other option, teacher). Meanwhile, her younger brother went to an independent school and then on to university. At some point in the eighties, my mum took a part-time job and I, like other GenXers, became a ‘latch-key kid’. I think she struggled to ‘do it all’. I learnt from her experience – I never set myself the task of having kids and returning to work immediately; I was self-employed for a long time to fit around family; and I’ve had help that wasn’t available to my mother (eg. buying a second car; having a cleaner).