She has the keys to their apartment. She knows everything. She has embedded herself so deeply in their lives that it now seems impossible to remove her. [Pub. Penguin Books. 228 pp.]
After giving birth to her second child, ambitious French-Moroccan lawyer Myriam Massé decides to return to the career she’s put on hold, and she and her music producer husband hire a nanny for their children: blonde, tiny, doll-like Louise.
Louise is perfect at first, taming the Massés’ rambunctious children and tidying up their messes with a work ethic that Paul and Myriam admire, then blissfully take for granted. But as she makes her way into the heart of the family, they become inextricably intertwined—and extricating themselves comes with unforeseen complications.
A horror story in your own backyard
The first chapter of The Perfect Nanny begins with four words: “The baby is dead.” In a few sentences, author Leila Slimani lays all the cards on the table: who lives, who dies, and the unassailable truth that the nanny is at fault. Immediately, the “how” is clear. The question is: Why?
Slimani takes us into the lives of the Massé family as they begin to navigate their own lives again. Character-centric chapters help in unraveling the thoughts, feelings, and motivations of everyone from Myriam and Paul to their daughter Mila.
Louise’s chapters are a different story; as much as Slimani reveals about her, Louise herself remains an enigma. But she becomes more complex, flawed, and human in other chapters, as we see the many ways people see her—and the many ways they don’t.
Atmosphere is everything
If there’s one thing that The Perfect Nanny has in spades, it’s an atmosphere that screams, “Something is going to go wrong.” The novel exists in a perpetual autumn or winter, and moments of true connection between characters are few and far between. Even glimpses of lightness and joy are sapped of their vibrancy, like looking over faded photographs.
And while other novels might keep the antagonist’s motives inscrutable as long as possible, Slimani gives a glimpse into Louise’s mind immediately. Though disconcerting at first, it works; as the novel progresses, looking into Louise’s mind, and the minds of those who have been in her orbit, doesn’t make her more familiar, but more unsettling.
A case of “lost in translation?”
I rarely read books translated from another language, and while reading The Perfect Nanny, I was never sure when translator Sam Taylor’s word choices were true to Slimani’s style in French, and when they weren’t.
In Taylor’s translation, Slimani’s writing style is sparse, clipped, and often clinical. Sometimes it’s conspicuous, but it adds to the atmosphere of tension and dread, like holding a breath, never sure of what you’re going to find.
Unsettling, uncomfortable, and unforgettable
As fascinating as The Perfect Nanny’s premise is, the plot comes second to the characters, making it feel like a series of character studies rather than a novel. But Slimani is talented at extracting uncomfortable insights about race, sex, and motherhood, and skillfully captures the strange in-between space that nannies live in around their charges and employers.
The Perfect Nanny keeps you on the edge of your seat, but it does lack one thing: a sense of closure. But the tension and the characters have lingered in my head, weeks after I first finished the book, and I’ll definitely be reading it again.
Thoughts from the future
After reading The Perfect Nanny, I learned that Slimani was inspired by a real-life murder case of two children by their nanny, back in 2012. I don’t want to overthink a review I made years ago, but that’s an important fact for anyone curious about this book: The Perfect Nanny may be fiction, but it’s closely inspired by real-life events.
Thank you to Fully Booked and Penguin Random House for the ARC!
This review has been edited for context and clarity. It was originally posted on Fully Booked Online on February 2, 2018. Check out Fully Booked on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
Katerina liebt 