The Whispers

The unnamed man in the opening pages seems overwhelmed by guilt. He cannot bear to look at his reflection and scrubs so hard in the shower that “[h]is skin stings” (1), as though wanting to wash his guilt away. Further, he thinks about what he should do: how he would behave “if nothing had happened” and this were a normal night (1). These thoughts and behavioral cues signal to the reader that something has happened to prompt the man’s contrition. While the Prelude establishes that the man is having an affair with the reference to the smell of “the child’s mother” on his fingers (1)—if the child were his own and the woman his partner, presumably he would think of them as such—the word choice suggests that illicit sex is not the only cause of his guilt. The woman is nameless and defined in relation to her child, who receives the distinction of the definite article. This suggests that something concerning the child bothers him far more than the actual affair, foreshadowing the revelation that Xavier witnessed Whitney and Ben having sex and that this led to his fall.

Overall, the anonymity and decontextualization of the Prelude create suspense: It is not clear who these characters are or what conflicts exactly they are dealing with. The Prologue deepens the mystery, inviting readers to consider which—if any—of these newly introduced characters are involved in the Prelude’s events. The juxtaposition of the two chapters is also tonal, with the Prelude exposing the distasteful underbelly (adultery, etc.) of the seemingly idyllic suburban existence depicted in the Prologue.

Yet the Prologue also makes the hollowness of that existence clear. The repetition of words that suggest fakeness in the narrator’s descriptions of the Loverlys’ party emphasizes the guests’ posturing and concern with appearances. The adults only pretend to be friends while the children behave similarly. Much of the performance—as well as the tension underpinning the neighbors’ relationships with one another—relates to social status. The men “have chosen nice shoes” and the women “wear accessories that don’t make it to the playground” (3); all use “polished” voices. Even at a children’s party, the adults try to present a faultless façade. The Loverlys stand out in this respect. Careful landscaping hides views of the “unpleasant back alley” behind the family’s “audacious” three-story house (3), signaling the family’s efforts to maintain unimpeachable upper-middle-class credentials. Whitney seems to spearhead these efforts: She “has impressed them all” with her home (4), her catered luncheon, and her life. Her behavior provides early insights into her character, suggesting that she is obsessed with keeping up appearances, especially where her family’s perfect image is concerned. Nevertheless, Whitney is responsible for the party’s most honest moment when she screams at Xavier. Her immediate horror when she realizes she has been heard further indicates how vital control and a flawless appearance are to her self-image.

With its emphasis on the tensions within the neighborhood, the Prologue also establishes two of the novel’s major themes: Female Rivalry and Sacrifices of Motherhood. Audrain associates the one-upmanship on display at the party largely with the novel’s female characters and implies that this posturing arises from a sense of lack. Despite their comfortable lifestyles, none of the novel’s female characters feel that they are leading an ideal existence. Blair, for example, is jealous of Rebecca and Ben’s intimacy even as Rebecca envies Blair her daughter. The novel suggests that it is impossible for any woman to truly “have it all”—the demands of motherhood are simply too great—and the pressure to act as though one’s life is perfect merely creates interpersonal tension.