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Content Warning: This section of the guide discusses emotional abuse, mental illness, and gender discrimination.
Jane, the protagonist and narrator of Liars, is a complex and introspective character whose journey reflects themes of sacrifice, identity, and resilience. As a writer, wife, and mother, Jane’s life is marked by her struggle to balance her creative ambitions with the overwhelming demands of domestic life. Her character serves as a lens through which Manguso critiques societal expectations, particularly the ways women are pressured to prioritize familial roles over personal fulfillment.
Throughout the novel, Jane is portrayed as self-aware yet trapped by her circumstances. Her reflections reveal the sacrifices she makes, particularly in her marriage to John, where she shoulders the emotional and domestic labor while receiving little support in return. Her comment, “I was doing a great job making sure the child was connecting with his friends, John was doing a great job taking care of John, and I felt abandoned and taken for granted and ignored” (164), encapsulates the inequities in her relationships. This line illustrates the emotional toll of being unacknowledged and undervalued: Jane sees to the child’s emotional needs while John sees to his own, leaving no one to care for Jane’s needs.
As the narrative progresses, Jane ceases suppressing her own needs to maintain harmony and begins actively reclaiming her identity. Her journey is marked by a growing awareness of her worth, culminating in her decision to leave behind the constraints of her marriage and focus on her role as a mother and her creative aspirations. Jane’s transformation highlights her resilience and capacity for self-discovery.
John serves as the antagonist in Liars, embodying the traits of insecurity, selfishness, and emotional manipulation that drive the novel’s central conflict. As a filmmaker and artist, he projects an image of ambition and creativity, yet his actions reveal a deep need for control and validation. His inability to take responsibility for his behavior and his tendency to undermine Jane’s confidence position him as a complex yet deeply flawed character whose actions exacerbate the disintegration of their marriage.
John is introduced through Jane’s perception, which often oscillates between admiration and frustration. Early on, Jane compares his personality to a landscape painting she describes as “calm and forthright” (4)—suggesting an outward serenity that masks his underlying insecurities. This façade begins to crumble as the narrative progresses, revealing his fear of vulnerability and accountability. Jane observes, “He seemed terrified that if he apologized in earnest for something he’d done accidentally, he’d die” (84). This fear of admitting fault underscores John’s emotional immaturity and his reliance on deflection to maintain a sense of superiority.
John’s manipulative tendencies are most evident in his need to control the narrative of their relationship. As Jane reflects, “John didn’t just need to win the fight; he needed me to agree that it was my responsibility never to say anything that might make him feel as if he’d ever done anything wrong” (108). This dynamic not only highlights John’s need for dominance but also illustrates how he weaponizes guilt and gaslighting to suppress Jane’s autonomy.
Ultimately, John’s role in the narrative is pivotal in exposing the broader societal norms that enable men like him to thrive at the expense of their partners. His actions force Jane to confront her own patterns of self-deception, making his character integral to the novel’s exploration of power, identity, and resilience.
The child in Liars functions as both a foil to John and a source of solace and purpose for Jane. His presence in the narrative highlights the stark contrast between the fulfillment Jane derives from motherhood and the oppression she feels in her marriage. The relationships Jane has with John and her son share a surface-level similarity in being largely one-sided—Jane does most of the emotional and physical labor. However, while this dynamic is draining and unbalanced with John, it is acceptable and even rewarding with the child, reflecting the unconditional and selfless nature of maternal love.
The lack of a name for the child is a deliberate narrative choice, emphasizing his role as an innocent victim in the dissolution of his parents’ marriage. By keeping him anonymous, Manguso shifts the focus to the dynamics between Jane and John, while preserving the child’s purity and universality. He is portrayed as an emblem of resilience and potential, often serving as a motivation for Jane to confront her struggles and create a better life for both of them.
As a foil to John, the child underscores the differences between the two relationships. Where John is dismissive and entitled, the child’s actions reflect a growing awareness and reciprocity, albeit limited by his age. For example, when Jane uses metaphors and stories to help him understand their family’s struggles—such as comparing their lives to a “fire-damaged redwood” (183)—the child’s ability to process and respond emotionally reinforces his capacity for growth, unlike John’s stagnation. This distinction further emphasizes Jane’s realization that her sacrifices as a mother are meaningful, while her sacrifices for John are ultimately fruitless and depleting. Through the child, Manguso explores the transformative power of motherhood, illustrating how it empowers Jane to reclaim her identity and prioritize her well-being while fostering her son’s emotional growth.
Naomi, John’s ex-girlfriend, serves as an early mirror for Jane’s eventual experiences in her relationship with John. John uses offensive language to describe Naomi’s mental health, calling her “unstable”—with the calculated pause that makes the label “darker, more dangerous” (7). This language highlights his tendency to frame women as irrational to deflect accountability for his own behavior. This characterization foreshadows the trajectory of John’s relationships, as he repeats the same pattern with Jane and later with Victoria.
The shifting roles between Naomi, Jane, and Victoria underscore the cyclical nature of John’s emotional manipulation. Just as John vilifies Naomi to justify his relationship with Jane, he eventually paints Jane as “crazy” to rationalize his affair with Victoria. This pattern reveals how John uses the same tactics to maintain power and control, discarding his partners and rewriting the narrative to suit his needs. Naomi, in this context, is both a precursor to Jane’s experiences and a warning of what lies ahead.
Although Naomi appears only briefly in the novel, her presence is significant in highlighting the larger cultural tendency to dismiss and marginalize women by labeling them as unstable or irrational. Her relationship with John provides an important parallel to Jane’s journey, illustrating how John’s behavior is not an anomaly but part of a repeated and systemic dynamic. Naomi’s role, though secondary, reinforces the novel’s critique of societal norms that enable men like John to thrive at the expense of their partners’ mental and emotional well-being.
Hannah is Jane’s closest confidante and a crucial source of support throughout Liars. As Jane’s best friend, Hannah provides perspective and understanding, helping Jane navigate the complexities of her marriage and motherhood. Their friendship begins when Jane sends Hannah a fan letter, and the two form an immediate bond. Hannah’s wisdom and experience, particularly her insights into relationships, offer Jane a sense of stability and validation, even when Jane feels isolated or unsure of herself.
Hannah’s role in the novel is multifaceted. On one hand, she normalizes Jane’s experiences, as seen in her reassurance that Jane’s struggles with John are “normal” (15). This reflects both the ubiquity of Jane’s challenges and the societal tendency to downplay the hardships women face in relationships. On the other hand, Hannah’s candid discussions about her own life, such as her arguments with her second husband over “the invisible work of nursing and caring for their child” (56), highlight the broader patterns of gender inequality that permeate domestic life. Hannah’s ability to adapt and find solutions, like cultivating patience, underscores her resilience and provides Jane with a model of perseverance and emotional resourcefulness.
Hannah’s significance extends beyond her practical advice. She represents a counterbalance to the isolation Jane feels in her marriage, reminding her of the value of connection and solidarity. By sharing her own experiences and consistently supporting Jane, Hannah helps her friend process her emotions and begin to envision a life beyond the constraints of her toxic relationship. Hannah’s friendship serves as a testament to the power of female camaraderie in the face of societal and personal challenges.
Victoria, John’s childhood friend and eventual mistress, is an ambivalent figure in Liars: She can be interpreted either as a secondary antagonist who contributes to the breakdown of Jane’s marriage, or as a victim of John’s manipulative patterns. Victoria’s relationship with John echoes his earlier dynamics with Naomi and Jane, suggesting that John’s behavior is part of a recurring cycle. Jane reflects on Victoria apparent naivety, speculating, “It must have been so easy for John to draw her in” (197).
Victoria’s motivations remain ambiguous. On one hand, Jane imagines Victoria viewing herself as a “feminist heroine, donning her armor and shaking off the mantle of the patriarchy and living for herself alone” (197). This interpretation casts Victoria as an independent woman pursuing her desires, yet her actions simultaneously harm another woman, complicating this perspective. On the other hand, Victoria may also be seen as a victim of John’s manipulation, drawn into a relationship under false pretenses, just as Jane was.
Victoria’s role in the novel raises questions about the dynamics of power and agency in relationships. Her actions highlight the ways in which individuals can perpetuate harm even as they seek freedom or fulfillment, and they underscore the destructive patterns that John continues to replicate across his relationships.
Felix, one of John’s childhood friends, serves as a subtle foil to John in Liars. As a stay-at-home parent to three children while his wife, Victoria, works full-time as a legal secretary, Felix represents an alternative dynamic to the traditional gender roles that define Jane and John’s marriage. However, despite this surface contrast, Felix and Victoria’s relationship mirrors Jane and John’s in its eventual breakdown, underscoring the universality of relational struggles regardless of gendered expectations.
Felix’s role as the primary caregiver challenges stereotypical portrayals of masculinity, highlighting how domestic roles are not inherently tied to gender. However, his eventual separation from Victoria reveals that imbalances and betrayals can occur even in relationships that subvert societal norms. This parallel complicates the narrative, showing that manipulation, infidelity, and emotional neglect transcend gender and are rooted in broader cultural dynamics.
Eben is an old friend of Jane’s who reenters her life as a source of wisdom and support during her struggles with John. Married longer than anyone Jane knows, Eben represents a life stage ahead of hers, offering practical advice rooted in experience. His insistence that he can “only recommend moving forward” resonates throughout the novel (32), emphasizing the importance of resilience and personal growth.
Eben’s role in the narrative is both supportive and symbolic. As someone who has weathered the challenges of marriage and parenting, he provides Jane with a perspective that encourages her to prioritize her well-being. His grounded insights serve as a counterbalance to John’s manipulative tactics, reminding Jane that she is not alone in her struggles and that progress is possible.
Through Eben, Manguso underscores the value of enduring friendships and the importance of seeking guidance during times of upheaval. His presence enriches the novel’s exploration of resilience, highlighting how external support can empower individuals to navigate even the most challenging circumstances.
Marni is a parallel figure to Jane, reflecting similar struggles in a different context. As she navigates her own divorce, Marni’s experiences echo Jane’s journey, particularly her realization that she no longer needs to comply with her husband’s demands. When Marni says, “He said I had to tell him where I was going […] but do I?” (212), her rhetorical question mirrors the internal debates Jane has faced throughout her marriage.
Marni’s role in the narrative highlights the shared challenges women face in disentangling themselves from controlling or abusive relationships. Her candid discussions with Jane provide a sense of solidarity and mutual understanding, reinforcing the novel’s theme of resilience. At the same time, Marni’s story serves as a reminder that these struggles are not unique to Jane, but part of a broader pattern shaped by societal and relational dynamics.
By including Marni’s perspective, Manguso adds depth to the narrative, illustrating the varied ways women reclaim their autonomy in the face of adversity. Marni’s presence emphasizes the importance of female camaraderie and the power of shared experiences in fostering healing and empowerment.
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