A Quick Note On This Review: This article includes affiliate links to Bookshop.org as a way of supporting both local bookshops and my own ability to write.
In 1714, Addie LaRue finds herself running through the darkness on the night she’s set to be married to a man her parents picked in an effort to escape. While her parents see the match as securing the daughter’s economic future, Addie wants to live a life free of the responsibilities and demands placed on women in 18th century France, and so calls out for aid from the Old Gods at night, despite knowing the risk such a move comes with. When the darkness answers in the form of Luc, the god of the night, Addie asks for time and freedom, which Luc grants: Addie will live forever, but no one will ever remember having met her when the sun goes down.
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab was a gripping novel that took the traditional trope of a Faustian bargain and turned it on its head. While many stories that use such tropes tend to focus on the futility of man’s ambition, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue offers insights into the kinds of things that a woman might trade away her soul for: freedom, time, and the ability to choose a course for herself. This inversion showcases not just the missing piece of the story found in traditional Faustian tales, but brings greater depth to the tale of desire and need than those focused solely on fame, money, or power.
Within the story itself, Schwab did a phenomenal job of creating compelling characters in the form of Addie, Henry, and Luc, as well as memorable secondary characters in the form of the old woman that taught Addie about the old gods and her parents. Schwab was also able to capture an interesting portrait of what it means to be “remembered” by those around us: rather than Addie being unable to achieve fame, she is physically incapable of being remembered by anyone, no matter how much they love and adore her in the moment, which leads to Addie being unable to connect with anyone enough to enjoy life the way she had hoped or write anything down about her life because it leaves a mark on the world. This framework alone presents an interesting perspective on the power and meaning that can come from simple pleasures, even if one doesn’t seek to turn it into a bid for fame.
For casual readers, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue would likely appeal to those who enjoy fantasy stories with a slightly darker bent, or those who enjoy novels that include a Faustian bargain as a main plot device. Addie is also a deeply sympathetic character while remaining strong in the face of a god’s will, so it’s worth delving into Schwab’s book if a strong female protagonist is of interest. Finally, though it’s not formally a bildungsroman, Schwab’s novel does have enough elements of growing up to it that it should appeal to those who are interested in those kinds of stories.
For writers, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue is a useful book to read to understand how to build and maintain relationships between characters throughout a novel. While ostensibly the story is predicated on Addie’s inability to have the kinds of relationships that people usually have, the story creates mechanisms by which Addie can influence others to make art about her. However, Schwab takes things further than merely focusing on Addie’s ability to influence the world of the novel, and is able to facilitate connection between the reader and the characters in a way that enables every action taken – or not taken – to be felt by the reader.
If you’re interested in reading the book and want to support local bookstores as well as my work, consider using this affiliate link: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.
What’s Next?
I am an avid reader and have quite a few thoughts on how some books could benefit both people that want to be entertained and those looking to sharpen their literary skills.
If you’re interested in finding out more about what I’ve been reading – and how it could benefit you – I will be publishing those thoughts on Fridays on a weekly basis. Check back next week for a discussion of Taylor Jenkins Reid’s The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo!
The Writerly Review 