Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke: A Book Review

"Anne Hathaway outbids rights on novel about a trad wife influencer who gets sent back to the 1800s" —My fingers couldn't hit the "purchase" button fast enough.

Spoilers ahead — I get into all of it.

It's clear as day this buzzy new novel, Yesteryear, written by Caro Claire Burke, has piqued extreme interest based on the subject matter alone. It's become a New York Times Bestseller and I can see why, part commentary on a highly polarizing subcategory of female influencers and part psychological thriller, the novel's premise alone is ultimately sparking a larger conversation that I would argue we've already discussed.

The Trad-Wife and Culutre War

What makes Yesteryear so compelling, is that the topic of "trad wives" itself has been so polarizing. If you're unfamiliar, the definition of a traditional wife is loosely referring to women in modern day America who are choosing a life in which they embrace more traditional values in wifedom and motherhood. The oversimplified stereotype depicts women who are intentional in their choice to make food from scratch (aka the homemade sourdough trend), carry themselves more modestly (prairie dresses vs mini skirts) and essentially succumb to the needs of their husband and children over their own. Obviously there are many variances in this definition, and I would argue they trigger a legitimate longing for nostalgia amongst us all, however, the rise of more digital creators who embrace some or all of these more "traditional values" is in step with the larger culture war occurring in the United States. Similar to what we are seeing with the rise of identity politics, women are once again being encouraged to sort ourselves into one of two categories; instead of working mom vs stay at home mom, it's now becoming angry mom vs submissive mom.

For the record, I refuse to be classified into either and I imagine most women would agree.

From the book summary alone the author is clearly referencing real-life influencer Hannah Neeleman as inspiration for her fictional protagonist, Natalie Heller, Neeleman herself securing 10 million plus followers on Instagram under the handle @BallerinaFarm, and becoming the subject of much of the recent "trad wife" scrutiny. Neeleman describes herself as a "Juilliard School graduate—city folk turned ranchers" while fictional Natalie Heller attended Harvard before dropping out to marry the son of a wealthy politician, move to a ranch and similar to Neeleman, have many children, while successfully branding the aesthetics and nostalgia of a pioneer's lifestyle in her online persona.

I will admit Burke's writing and storytelling in Yesteryear is excellent, she had me hooked from start to finish and my appetite for the truth was strong. Natalie, as we'd expect, is unlikable, full of contradictions and ultimately the arbiter of her disdain—but what's worse is that Burke fails in delivering a motive behind all the ridiculous things Natalie thinks and does. Instead, you realize she is in fact the disruptor of her life. Not her husband, not her father, not even her power-hungry father-in-law. She yields the power, she falsely interprets her relationship with God, she is the abuser, she is mentally unwell.

Once again we have a female protagonist who could have commanded our curiosities about the complexity of womanhood, but instead Burke just commanded us to call her crazy.

The author might have thought she was being a feminist in making the case for women having choice in their own disempowerment, or perhaps believed we would see it differently if a woman was held responsible for the pitfalls of her own misogyny, but ultimately I'm afraid she is doing something worse—blaming women.

This is tired. And I am so tired of this.

Once again we have a female protagonist who could have commanded our curiosities about the complexity of womanhood, but instead Burke just commanded us to call her crazy.

Motherhood and Influencer Culture

You see, this is actually offensive to me, a woman who has almost absolutely nothing in common with Natalie — a lifelong city dweller of mixed ethnicity, a liberal feminist, millennial working mom who despite earning an income still takes on the majority of unpaid domestic labor in my household. Despite how differently I may be marketed to on Instagram than more "traditional wives" and despite the fact that I don't follow any of this content, I myself still feel deeply connected to so much of this character, and the women she is supposed to ridiculously represent.

I too am a mother, wife and influencer who has felt both the disillusionment and absolute joy of this role. I've turned on the TV to distract my child while I make a gorgeous charcuterie board, I buy organic groceries, I fully embrace cooking things from scratch when my husband does it, I edited my one and only viral TikTok video while nursing my son, I have wished naptime would both end early and stretch a bit longer, I want a full career outside of being a mother and while being a mother. I want to make my own money and I want to be room mom one day and be at all the school events, and I believe in God and I believe in protecting your family and marriage at all costs. I know women are oppressed and yet I still love being a woman. I am angry at our administration, I am mostly joyful at home, I get frustrated as a parent and I love my child and being a mom more than anything else in the world. I'm conflicted about having a second kid and I worry about my freedom and happiness, I want it all and am fully aware I can't have everything all at once.

Material success can't distinguish between a suit in a skyscraper or a prairie dress in your kitchen—feminism isn't aesthetic.

And while I have never left my child in the car by accident, thank God, I actually had compassion for Natalie when she did. I would have compassion for any mother who has suffered the consequence of being overwhelmed as it's no secret that motherhood can be overwhelming. But Natalie doesn't seem to enjoy any aspect of being a mother and Burke leaves us with no premise for why she chooses to continue to bear multiple children. And while I will never condone or minimize child abuse, I can confidently say as a therapist that the majority of parents who abuse their kids still have love for them. Yet Burke starves us of any depth here and I believe that to be so unfair and so unbelievable.

What I like most about Natalie, is that she is full of contradictions. She is self-righteous, judgmental and angry at the world in an unhinged way, which is interesting in the beginning. However, the payoff I was looking for, the depth of her dissonance between her adherence to the traditional role as a mother and her rage towards the people picking apart her life online and in-person, doesn't ever materialize into a deeper understanding, albeit respect, for what she has actually accomplished.

Being a mother, even just being a woman, is not just good or bad, it's complex, it's dynamic, it's powerful.

But ultimately what Burke fails to do here is use the complexity of womanhood to tell her story. Capture the true tensions of wanting to be both a traditional wife and mother, in addition to an aspirational storyteller and businesswoman. Perhaps the author didn't want to go there because that would in fact turn the entire argument she makes on its head, forcing her to recognize the reality I have made mention of before, here, which is that female influencers are actually aspirational.

Material success can't distinguish between a suit in a skyscraper or a prairie dress in your kitchen—feminism isn't aesthetic. That is the point being missed in this discussion. The author seems to believe that the way to make this phenomenon interesting is to sensationalize and debunk the concept of what we consider traditional female roles, but I would argue it's a great miss in what is actually interesting here. The same tension that remains in motherhood since the 1800s is what is interesting to me. The idea that no matter which way you slice it, being a mother, even just being a woman, is not just good or bad, it's complex, it's dynamic, it's powerful.

Marriage, Religion and Power

The author sets the stage early on for a power dynamic in Natalie's marriage, one we are expected to assume her husband Caleb holds against her based on the stereotype of the trad wife who often succumbs to her husband. We are also clued in on a sexual assault allegation in their household, which we assume must have happened between Caleb and Natalie's assistant. Ultimately we come to find out it was Natalie who sexually assaulted her assistant and who clearly yields power over her husband who by her standards fails in owning his masculinity. When Natalie "travels back in time" the version of her husband, whom she refers to as "old Caleb" fits the bill as a toxic, abusive male; commanding her to obey him, slapping her across the face and forcing her to have sex with him.

The marital rape scene starts with Natalie clearly conveying her fear of being raped by "old Caleb" having believed she had traveled back in time and that this was not her husband. However, the scene ends with Natalie finding the sexual authority he yields over her to be quite satisfying, euphoric, orgasmic in the end. She feels connected to God and her womanhood afterwards. Her husband has finally stepped into his masculine power so she can now fully embrace her femininity.

Again this author is blaming women, and God, for marital rape.

What the actual f***.

This is dangerous. I see what this author is attempting to do here and it angers me. She thinks that if we see toxic masculinity through the lens of the trad wife who commands it we will digest it differently. Natalie asked God for her husband to become a "real man" and he delivered.

Again this author is blaming women, and God, for marital rape. She loses every opportunity to utilize the complexity of marriage by blaming Natalie, by blaming women.

As a couples therapist I am acutely aware of how oversimplified the conversations about what constitutes a "good marriage" tend to veer. The arguments have all been made but the research only points towards one. Marriage is about two people joining their lives and thus, sacrificing full independence. It also requires people evolve further into their individual selves and allow their partner an opportunity to bear witness. Secure attachment is essentially co-dependence, a home base so secure that the partners within the relationship can go off into the world and take from it what they want, all the while knowing all roads lead back home.

Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am" and I like to say, "I am, because we are."

True partnership is not based on control, but it is based on healthy interdependence. We are pack animals as humans, we must rely on one another for survival, even in this modern world. So the concept of loyalty goes both ways and is based on mutual respect.

It's easy to say that women who stay home with their kids are better mothers while ignoring the fact that high quality, affordable childcare is inaccessible for many families.

It's easy to say that women who prioritize their careers will fare better in case of divorce, instead of creating financial safeguards for women who want to prioritize taking care of their families.

It's easy to say that men who are breadwinners have more control in a marriage because we don't value the significance of the unpaid domestic labor women provide in most households, regardless of their earning power.

It's easy to argue religious ideologies dictate limiting gender roles for men and women, rather than focusing on how faith can strengthen one's individual sense of self and provide community rather than commandments.

The author fails in my opinion to provide any good use of the "traditional marriage" she is attempting to scrutinize, instead she botches the entire thing and essentially blames Natalie for everything. The interpretation is so heavy-handed, we as readers feel we have no autonomy in our conclusions about what a traditional marriage really is and that was disappointing.

The Angry Women

Natalie often references "the angry women" who routinely scrutinize the lifestyle content she shares on her social media platform and this is perhaps one of the most interesting throughlines of the book. Natalie faces similar criticisms as real-life influencer Hannah Neeleman (@BallerinaFarm) has in sharing her nostalgic homemade meals and homestead-inspired content online. Natalie frequently laments how this swath of liberal-leaning, angry women enjoy tearing her down as a result of their own shortcomings in finding fulfillment. And while I'll admit Burke does a good job in conveying the pitfalls of paths mothers have in life, she is just repeating the obvious—women struggle regardless of whether they prioritize their careers, motherhood, wifedom or their own personal fulfillment.

And then what?

Burke doesn't offer us any alternative perspectives I'm afraid. Which is annoying because influencing and female entrepreneurship are prime examples of a so-called third choice for women if you will. It's not a perfect and easy path, I discuss this in more detail here, but unlike the corporate maze referenced in the book, women who build their own businesses online have more flexibility in prioritizing motherhood, financial autonomy and personal fulfillment. Natalie is actually a prime example of this; she has built a successful business, is home with her family and is doing something fulfilling for herself. Why couldn't Burke explore this in more detail, examine the real challenges of this kind of life, the reality of the finances and labor behind building a brand? Bring us readers into that tension and let us decide how we feel about it.

Now that would be interesting.

My Final Thoughts

I was beyond excited to read this book. I will admit the plot had me engaged until the very end, however I was left disappointed, frustrated and longing for something deeper. I wanted to leave this book feeling conflicted, provoked by the complexity around the impact of faith and culture on a marriage, the dissonance between our online personas and real life, and as promised in the book description, the grand performance of womanhood.

Unfortunately, all of this went unexplored in the author's determination to humiliate, shame and reduce the protagonist to another crazy, angry woman with no apparent motive. There was no context for Natalie's abhorrent behavior for us to reconcile, no tension for us to explore — Burke seems to have done that already for us.

Our protagonist Natalie is not just unlikable — worse, she's ripe to dismiss.