Women have long played supporting roles to great literary men. Tolstoy’s wife, Sophia, edited his manuscripts; Milton had his daughters transcribe parts of Paradise Lost; Véra Nabokov did everything for Vladimir and also rescued Lolita from the trash more than once. Véra and Sophia set aside their own writerly ambitions to serve their husbands; Milton exploited and neglected his daughters. Tabitha King convinced Stephen to salvage Carrie, launching his career, later enduring his habit of playing “Mambo No. 5” around the clock. Many readers would likely argue the resulting works justify their sacrifices and suffering. But Daughter, Claudia Dey’s wry, furious new novel about a dysfunctional family in thrall to their fickle patriarch, tallies the costs borne by women to produce one great literary man.
“The only time I get to be close to my father is when he is betraying his life,” narrates Mona Dean, an actress and budding playwright, who has been overlooked by her father since age eleven, when he left her mother to marry his spiteful second wife, Cherry. Mona’s father, Paul, is famous for his acclaimed novel Daughter, which transformed him into a literary icon and which may or may not have been inspired by Mona. He hasn’t published anything in the fifteen years since, but that hasn’t diminished his self-importance or the gravitational pull his ego exerts on the women in his life. For men, being a literary icon is a little like being king: it’s a lifetime appointment.
