In general, the novels that dominate bestseller lists are not the paradigm of good literature. Now, it is interesting to analyze these as social phenomena, i.e., X-rays of moments when a particular piece of content resonates with many readers, including non-regular readers (a bestseller is precisely the type of book that someone reads on vacation for just one book). And while many of them are pre-programmed (hello, Premio Planeta), sometimes one shows up that you weren’t expecting. Those are the ones you need to focus on.
Taylor Jenkins Read (Maryland, 1983) did not enter the Spanish market by reaching the top of the bestseller list. Rather, her success has been built little by little as a result of word of mouth among readers. It is practiced today on BookTok, BookTube, and Bookstagram, online communities that can turn novels into trends through sheer contagion of enthusiasm. Evelyn Hugo’s seven husbands (2017), the author’s fifth novel, was a before-and-after of her career and was an overwhelming success worldwide, potentially being turned into an audiovisual by Netflix.
In Spain, this novel saw the light of day for the first time in 2020, a year that also saw unpredictable events in the field of literature (Umbriel, translated by Nora Escoms). While many books were quickly forgotten as bookstores closed, others, not necessarily the most up-to-date, benefited from intense activity on social networks. Moreover, in a situation where not only regular readers, but even the most reluctant readers, pick up the book, it was essential that the selected titles had good evasiveness, in order to entertain without making them think too much gloom.
One step beyond the outline of his first novel
It was more of a distraction than a literary quality. Romantic comedy writers have an advantage there. Of course it comes Evelyn Hugo’s seven husbands Taylor Jenkins-Reid moves beyond the simple synopsis of her earlier work to tell the story of Evelyn Hugo, an actress (with features reminiscent of Elizabeth Taylor but fictional), Cuban-American Oscar winner, and sexual myth of Hollywood’s Golden Age. As if that wasn’t enough, she is also known to have been married seven times.
This year, 2025, Umbriel has published a new edition to celebrate 500,000 readers of the Spanish translation. This is the type of novel that would never appear in a literary supplement, and is not “material” for literary critics. But attracting so many people’s attention is more than enough to analyze the phenomenon. First, it has something in common with most commercial successes. It’s a great character creation that works well, despite reacting to clichés, and has enough attributes for readers to play around with by forming a #team (a group that empathizes with the same character and frequently expresses their preferences within the framework of a love triangle).
The charismatic characters here are women rather than men, another sign of the times. Post-#MeToo, female readers are demanding stronger protagonists, doing a disservice to the damsels in distress of romance novels of yesteryear. And not only is Evelyn Hugo a powerful diva, she’s also taken the concept of “female empowerment” to the extreme. Coming from a poor background, she is an upstart woman who knew from an early age where she wanted to go and was not afraid to use all her resources to achieve it, even if her moral values were often suppressed.
The big question that starts the book
That’s another charm of this work. Evelyn Hugo is not a politically correct heroine. On the contrary, she admits that she is manipulative and inquisitive, that she uses her body to get something in return (as a rule, the favor of a powerful person), and that, despite her history, she loves only one person in a romantic sense. Which of her seven husbands loved the Hollywood star the most? That’s the question that opens the book (Approaching the intriguing unknown: another success).
Here’s the situation. A journalist in her 30s who is in crisis both professionally and privately (she has just been divorced and feels that there is no progress in her career) surprisingly receives a fascinating assignment to interview the elderly Evelyn Hugo, a former film femme fatale. He had been secluded in his mansion for years, but suddenly he wanted to talk. In fact, he does more than just interview her. The actress asked him to write her biography. He wants to tell the world the truth before he dies. And he deliberately chose this particular journalist, which is completely incomprehensible to the beneficiary, because this will cause her to take off.
Most of the novel is a first-person narrative of Evelyn Hugo, from the beginning of her career in the industry to the present, divided into as many parts as there are husbands, always arranged in a comfortable chronological order (it is also important to make it easy to read while inviting the reader into the mystery), with the occasional intervention of an interlocutor who questions her and interrogates himself at the same time. The experience of the actress makes her think about her life, helps make decisions and loves herself more.
This interaction between a powerful woman and a young apprentice (although she is neither very young nor a novice; this is also a symptom of the age and the eternal precariousness of those entering the labor market during economic crisis) is another literary relationship, that of Miranda Prestly and the novice Andrea, or the same, the Anna Wintour stand-in and her own alter ego invented by Lauren Weisberger in The Devil. Wearing Prada (2003).
Taylor Jenkins-Reid, like any other working writer, learned a lot from that winning chick of the late ’90s and early part of this century. Chick-lit is a genre created by women, for women, that sassily tells the (mis)adventures of a modern 30-something woman struggling with love (mostly), work (a little), and image (a lot: references to fashion brands galore). Although in theory it asks the reader to identify, the reality is that, romantic dalliances aside, the protagonists lived in a higher standard of living and more glamorous surroundings than the average reader. In addition to “The Devil Wears Prada”, representative works include “Bridget Jones’s Diary” (Helen Fielding, 1996) and “Sex and the City” (Candice Bushnell, 1997). Rachel Goes on a Journey (Marian Keyes, 1998) and Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella, 2000).
Uncovering Hollywood’s Golden Age
Evelyn Hugo’s seven husbands share a fascination with luxury. In this case, it takes shape not in a fashion magazine, but in the golden Hollywood of divas, dresses, romance and legendary rivals. There is still a public interest in certain environments today, as reflected in the media’s trending pages featuring the monarchy and red carpets. At least books allow you to explore them from the inside with a critical perspective.
That’s the other key to this novel: solving the mystery of Hollywood’s Golden Age. What better way to break the illusions that have prevailed over generations than in the first person of one of the protagonists? And here we have to bring up #MeToo again. Evelyn Hugo’s confession could not have happened under any other circumstances. In fact, if classic cinema gives off its aura of greatness, that’s in large part the reason it was silenced. Yes, there is sexual abuse, LGTBIQA+ and ethnic minority representation, media montages, calculated awards, and dirty happenings behind the scenes. It also talks about sexuality, giving voice to female desires that were considered taboo at the time.
Not everything is suspicious. There’s also a sorority behind the camera that wasn’t interesting to show because it sold the story of two divas facing each other. Another important bond is that between the actress and her trusted producer, which over time becomes more than a friendship. or with a particular director during a particular period of time. Professional ties can be a source of sincere affection, but in the exclusive and coveted environment of the film world, you can rarely trust someone you can trust completely.
Note: You don’t have to wait until the end to find out Evelyn Hugo’s secret. The identity of her true love was revealed earlier, and here the author once again shines with her intelligence. Rather than applying everything to one card, she creates new unknown elements as the story unfolds. The structure is very well thought out, doing nothing to make it creaky or difficult to read, but adding the necessary developments to keep the journalist, and by extension the reader, on hold about the actress’s confession. The character and determination of the protagonist is also reflected in her modus operandi. Far from being a lovable old lady, she always has the upper hand and decides when and how to tell her truth to the media.
Among the many reasons for Taylor Jenkins Reid’s novel’s extraordinary success is its gendered deconstruction of a period in film history whose images were fueled by the straight, white male gaze. Readers no longer look at divas from the outside and admire their demeanor and flamboyance, but instead listen to their voices and find out how they live, what they keep quiet about, what they suffer from, how they face coming of age in an industry that is always looking for young actresses, and what sacrifices they make to gain fame, money, and fame.
Here’s another key. Unlike romantic stories, the main character is not all about achieving love. There is talk of professional aspirations, declassification, and the obligation to stay in the front row so as not to be left behind. While this is an exciting message for readers, it has led to some troubling debates. The protagonist accomplishes (almost) everything he sets out to do, but at what cost? Was it worth it? Regardless, Evelyn Hugo is a fascinating character, thanks to her many shades and perversions. She alone explains the phenomena in this book to a great extent.
If the film is shot, the actress who brought it to life will have candy in her hands, and she too will be on her way to Hollywood’s most coveted statuette. Also the locker room team. We can only hope that she doesn’t become as cunning as Evelyn Hugo or take as many blows in the process. Her biography will become less exciting, but she will live more peacefully. After all, the past wasn’t always good. Not the best movie theater either.
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