Generations of Broken Mothers

The story opens with Blythe, a woman haunted by the failures of the women who came before her. Her grandmother Etta, emotionally unstable and abusive, sets the tone for a lineage of mothers who cannot love their daughters as they should. Etta's daughter, Cecilia, grows up neglected and traumatized, eventually becoming Blythe's own cold, distant mother. This generational pain is not just background—it's the soil from which Blythe's own fears and failures as a mother will grow. The narrative weaves between past and present, showing how trauma is inherited, how it shapes identity, and how it can feel inescapable.

Fox and Blythe: Young Love

Blythe meets Fox in college, and their relationship is a haven from her lonely, fractured upbringing. Fox's family is warm and supportive, everything Blythe's is not. Their love is intense, and Fox's belief in Blythe's potential as a writer gives her confidence. Yet, even in these early days, Blythe's anxieties about motherhood and her own family history linger. She hides the worst of her past from Fox, desperate to be the woman he wants and to believe she can be different from her mother. Their marriage is built on love, but also on Blythe's hope that she can outrun her legacy.

The Weight of Expectation

As Blythe and Fox settle into married life, the expectation of children looms. Fox is eager, and Blythe wants to believe she can be a good mother, unlike her own. She throws herself into the rituals of pregnancy, trying to feel the joy and anticipation that other women seem to have. But beneath the surface, she is terrified—of failing, of repeating the past, of not loving her child. The narrative explores the suffocating pressure to be a "good mother," and the loneliness of not fitting the mold.

Violet's Arrival, Blythe's Doubt

Violet is born, and Blythe is immediately overwhelmed—not with love, but with exhaustion, pain, and a sense of alienation. Violet is a difficult baby, crying endlessly, refusing comfort from Blythe but soothing instantly with Fox. Blythe's attempts to bond are met with rejection, and she begins to suspect something is wrong—not just with her, but with Violet. The world tells her she's imagining things, that all babies are hard, but Blythe feels a chilling absence of connection. Her fear grows: is she broken, or is her daughter?

The Struggle to Connect

Blythe's days are a blur of failed attempts to be the mother she's supposed to be. She joins mom groups, tries to mimic other women, but always feels like an outsider. Violet's behavior becomes more troubling—she is cold, sometimes cruel, and only affectionate with Fox. Blythe's guilt and shame deepen as she finds herself resenting her own child, fantasizing about escape, and even neglecting Violet to write. Fox, meanwhile, is blind to the problem, convinced Blythe is overreacting. Their marriage begins to fray under the strain.

The Cycle Repeats

Interwoven with Blythe's story are flashbacks to Etta and Cecilia, showing how each woman's pain and inadequacy as a mother shaped the next. Cecilia, neglected and abused, grows up to be a mother who cannot love Blythe. Blythe, desperate to break the cycle, finds herself repeating it despite her best efforts. The narrative suggests that trauma is not just psychological but almost biological—a force passed down, shaping each generation's capacity for love and care.

Violet's Darkness Emerges

As Violet grows, her troubling behavior escalates. She is manipulative, violent with other children, and shows little empathy. Incidents at preschool and with peers suggest a capacity for cruelty that Blythe cannot ignore. When a classmate is seriously injured at the playground, Blythe suspects Violet is responsible, but Fox refuses to believe it. The tension between Blythe's intuition and Fox's denial isolates her further, and she begins to question her own sanity.

Sam: A Second Chance

Blythe and Fox have a second child, Sam, and for the first time, Blythe experiences the deep, instinctive love she always thought she was missing. Sam is an easy, joyful baby, and Blythe is a different mother with him—nurturing, connected, fulfilled. The contrast between her relationships with her two children is stark and painful. Fox sees this as proof that Blythe was the problem all along, not Violet. But Blythe knows the truth is more complicated.

The Unthinkable Loss

Sam dies in a horrific accident—his stroller rolls into the street and is struck by a car while Blythe and Violet are with him. Blythe is burned by hot tea, distracted for a moment, and Violet is right there. Blythe is haunted by the memory of Violet's hands on the stroller, convinced her daughter pushed him. The police and Fox accept it as a tragic accident, but Blythe's certainty isolates her completely. Grief consumes her, and her marriage collapses under the weight of loss and suspicion.

Marriage Unravels

In the aftermath of Sam's death, Fox grows distant and eventually leaves Blythe for his assistant, Gemma. He and Gemma have a child together, and Violet quickly adapts to her new family, finding in Gemma the warmth and stability Blythe could never provide. Blythe is left alone, her relationship with Violet irreparably damaged, her sense of self shattered. She becomes obsessed with Gemma, infiltrating her life under a false identity, desperate to understand what makes her a "good mother."

Fox's New Life

Fox and Gemma's life together is everything Blythe's was not—happy, functional, loving. They have a son, Jet, and Gemma becomes the mother Blythe always wanted to be. Violet thrives in this new environment, and Blythe is pushed further to the margins. Her attempts to warn Gemma about Violet's darkness are dismissed as the ravings of a bitter, unstable woman. The pain of being replaced, of seeing her daughter flourish without her, is almost unbearable.

Blythe's Obsession with Gemma

Blythe's fixation on Gemma grows. She befriends her under a fake name, attending mom groups and offering advice, all while pretending her own dead son is alive. The relationship is both a lifeline and a further descent into madness. When Gemma discovers the truth, she is horrified and cuts Blythe off. Blythe is left with nothing—no family, no friends, no purpose.

The Truth About Violet

Years pass, and Blythe's life is a shell. She tries to move on, to find peace, but the question of what really happened to Sam haunts her. She revisits the scene of his death, searching for evidence, for certainty. The narrative keeps the truth ambiguous—was Violet truly capable of murder, or is Blythe's trauma distorting her memory? In a final confrontation, Violet seems to confess, but the moment is fleeting, and Blythe is left with more questions than answers.

The Final Confrontation

Blythe and Violet's relationship reaches its breaking point. Violet, now a young woman, is cold and distant, but there are moments of vulnerability that suggest she is not immune to pain. Blythe tries to make peace, to accept that she may never know the truth, but the legacy of hurt is too deep. In a haunting final scene, Violet mouths something to Blythe through a window—possibly a confession, possibly another manipulation. The cycle of doubt and pain continues.

The Legacy of Hurt

The story ends with Blythe alone, reflecting on the damage done—not just to herself and her daughter, but to all the women in her family. She recognizes that the pain she inherited has shaped every aspect of her life, and that breaking the cycle is harder than she ever imagined. The narrative suggests that healing is possible, but only if the truth is faced, and the past is acknowledged.

Searching for Redemption

Blythe tries to find meaning in her pain, to forgive herself and her daughter, to believe that she is capable of love and healing. She reaches out to Violet, hoping for reconciliation, but is met with silence. The story closes with Blythe waiting, the light on in her house, hoping that one day her daughter will come home.

The Last Push

In a final twist, Gemma calls Blythe in a panic—something has happened to Jet, Fox and Gemma's son. The implication is clear: the cycle of violence and trauma may not be over. The story ends on a note of dread and ambiguity, leaving the reader to wonder if Violet has repeated the past, and if any mother can ever truly escape her legacy.

Characters

Blythe Connor

Blythe is the protagonist and narrator, a woman shaped by generations of maternal failure and abuse. She is intelligent, sensitive, and desperate to be a good mother, but is crippled by self-doubt and the fear of repeating her mother's mistakes. Her relationship with her daughter Violet is fraught with anxiety, guilt, and suspicion. Blythe's psychological complexity is the heart of the novel—her unreliability as a narrator keeps the reader questioning what is real and what is the product of trauma. Her journey is one of longing for connection, battling the ghosts of her past, and ultimately confronting the possibility that some wounds cannot be healed.

Fox Connor

Fox is Blythe's husband, the golden boy who offers her a way out of her painful past. He is loving and attentive, but also naive—unwilling or unable to see the darkness in his daughter or the depth of Blythe's suffering. His need for a perfect family blinds him to reality, and his eventual betrayal (an affair with his assistant, Gemma) is both a cause and a symptom of the family's unraveling. Fox's inability to face hard truths makes him complicit in the cycle of pain.

Violet Connor

Violet is Blythe and Fox's first child, a girl who from infancy seems to reject her mother and display troubling behavior. She is intelligent, manipulative, and often cruel, especially to other children. The novel leaves open the question of whether Violet is a true sociopath or the victim of her mother's projections and trauma. Her relationship with Blythe is the central mystery of the book—one that is never fully resolved, leaving the reader in a state of uneasy ambiguity.

Sam Connor

Sam is Blythe and Fox's second child, a boy who represents everything Blythe hoped motherhood could be. Her bond with Sam is immediate and profound, and his presence brings her a sense of redemption. His tragic death is the novel's turning point, shattering Blythe's world and deepening the rift between her and Fox. Sam's loss is both a personal tragedy and a symbol of the fragility of hope.

Gemma

Gemma is Fox's new partner after his affair, and the mother Blythe wishes she could be. She is warm, competent, and quickly forms a close bond with Violet. Blythe becomes obsessed with Gemma, infiltrating her life under a false identity in a desperate attempt to understand what makes her different. Gemma's presence is both a comfort and a torment to Blythe, highlighting everything she has lost.

Etta

Etta is Blythe's grandmother, a woman whose mental illness and abuse set the stage for generations of trauma. Her inability to love or care for her daughter Cecilia creates a legacy of pain that echoes through the novel. Etta's story is a cautionary tale about the consequences of untreated suffering and the ways in which pain can be passed down.

Cecilia

Cecilia is Blythe's mother, a woman broken by her own childhood and unable to love her daughter. She is cold, distant, and eventually abandons Blythe, perpetuating the cycle of maternal failure. Cecilia's story is told in flashbacks, providing context for Blythe's fears and insecurities.

Mrs. Ellington

Mrs. Ellington is Blythe's childhood neighbor, a warm and nurturing presence who offers Blythe the love and stability she never received from her own mother. Her kindness is a lifeline for Blythe, and her eventual decline is a reminder of the impermanence of comfort.

Jet

Jet is Fox and Gemma's son, born after Blythe and Fox's separation. He represents a new beginning, but also the possibility that the cycle of violence and trauma will continue. The novel's final moments suggest that Jet may be in danger, raising questions about whether Violet's darkness has found a new target.

The Literary Agent

After her family falls apart, Blythe has a brief relationship with a literary agent. He is emotionally unavailable and uninterested in her as a mother, highlighting Blythe's loneliness and the difficulty of finding meaning outside of motherhood.

Plot Devices

Unreliable Narration

The novel is told from Blythe's point of view, and her reliability is constantly in question. Her memories are fragmented, her perceptions colored by fear and pain. This device keeps the reader off-balance, never sure whether Violet is truly dangerous or whether Blythe's trauma is distorting reality. The ambiguity is central to the novel's tension and its exploration of the limits of empathy and understanding.

Generational Flashbacks

The story is interspersed with flashbacks to Etta and Cecilia, showing how each woman's pain shapes the next. These sections provide context for Blythe's fears and failures, and suggest that trauma is not just personal but generational. The structure reinforces the idea that the past is always present, and that breaking the cycle is a monumental challenge.

Epistolary Framing

The novel is framed as a letter from Blythe to Fox, her attempt to explain her side of the story and to make sense of what has happened. This device creates intimacy and urgency, drawing the reader into Blythe's inner world and making her pain palpable.

Foreshadowing and Ambiguity

From the earliest pages, the novel is filled with hints that something is wrong—Blythe's unease, Violet's odd behavior, the family's history of trauma. The narrative withholds key information, keeping the reader guessing about what is real and what is imagined. The final scenes are deliberately ambiguous, leaving the truth unresolved and the reader unsettled.

Symbolism

Throughout the novel, objects—dolls, paintings, baby clothes, razors—carry deep symbolic weight. They represent lost innocence, the desire for connection, and the persistence of pain. These symbols ground the story's emotional intensity and provide a tangible link between past and present.

Analysis

Ashley Audrain's The Push is a harrowing exploration of motherhood, trauma, and the limits of empathy. Through the deeply unreliable narration of Blythe, the novel interrogates the myth of maternal instinct and the societal expectation that all women are naturally loving mothers. By weaving together the stories of three generations of women, Audrain shows how pain and dysfunction are inherited, and how difficult it is to break free from the past. The novel's central ambiguity—whether Violet is truly a monster or whether Blythe's trauma has warped her perception—forces the reader to confront uncomfortable questions about blame, responsibility, and the nature of evil. In the end, The Push is less a thriller than a psychological study of the ways in which love can fail, and the devastating consequences that follow. It is a cautionary tale about the dangers of silence, denial, and the refusal to face hard truths, and a plea for compassion for those who struggle to be the mothers they wish they could be.

Last updated: July 12, 2025