From the author of Gold Diggers, a biting examination of millennial adulthood, the often fraught conversations around fertility and reproduction, and the painful quest to forge an identity
Sanjana Satyanandais trying to recover her life. It’s been a year since she walked out on her husband, a struggling actor named Killian, at a commune in India, after a disagreement about whether to have children. Now, Sanjana is struggling to resurrect her busted anthropology dissertation and crashing at her annoyingly perfect sister’s while her similarly well-adjusted peers obsess over marriages, mortgages, and motherhood. Sanjana needs to move forward—and finalize her divorce, ASAP.
There’s just one problem: Killian is missing. As Sanjana tries to track him down, she’s bombarded with unnerving calls from women seeking her advice on pregnancy and fertility. Soon, Sanjana comes face to face—literally—with what her life might have been if she’d chosen parenthood. And the road not taken turns out to be wilder, stranger, and more tempting than she imagined.
A darkly funny, vertiginous novel about the dilemmas of procreation, pregnancy, and parenting, Goddess Complex is both a twist-filled psychological thriller and a feminist satire of our age of GirlBosses turned self-care influencers, optimization cults, internet mommy gurus, egg freezing, and so much more.
A year after leaving her husband, Killian, Sanjana is trying to pick up the pieces of her life. She’s struggling to finish her PhD dissertation, casually dating a guy almost 10 years her junior, and watching as friends hit the traditional milestones of adulthood without her. She can’t even get her ex to sign the divorce papers because he lives on the other side of the world and has essentially ghosted her. So she’s shocked when she starts getting messages from unknown numbers and old acquaintances congratulating her on the child she and Killian are apparently expecting. Sanjana knows she’s not pregnant, so what is going on? Is it a cruel prank? An elaborate mixup? Or is there another version of herself out there, living a life she would never choose?
I loved this book. Sanjana is a messy, fun narrator who I would absolutely want to be friends with. The plot is so twisty and fun, and I was eagerly turning the pages, desperate to figure out what was going on. The satire is SO on point, exaggerated enough to be fun yet believable enough that the story still felt true to life. This book is so unique, and it’s definitely going to be one I nag all my friends to read!
This is an excellent book about women's choice or not to become mothers. It's also about how women relate to one another around conception. It was a beautiful, fraught story with a freaking perfect ending.
Full review:
You can tell yourself whatever story you want to about yourself. p182
Three (or more) things I loved:
1. I love a good unlikable character, especially one that I connect with. I had ghosted him last summer, and we had not spoken in nearly a year. I was something between a wife and an ex-wife, between who I had been and who I would be next. p12
2. I adore that this main character, who shares the author's first name, eschews femininity as it relates to expected gender roles and behaviors. It's refreshing to read about a woman who is so direct about her imperatives.
3. For such a serious book, it has very funny moments! Sarcasm is this author's secret weapon. The last directive on our tour was a reminder that Moksha was an alcohol- and drug-free zone. There had been some Russians recently, and, well . . . p74
4. Anjana/ Ranjana was glowering at me in this way I remembered baby Naina looking at me, with alien obstinacy, a gaze not of pure discovery but of fury that the world was so befuddling. I was relieved to find myself moved. I was a woman who could hold a baby, halt a baby’s tears. p115 These moments of meaning the character collects, which allow her to grow, are sometimes deeply profound. the randomness it one of the best aspects of this narrative.
5. This book made me feel so many things. It wasn't like a Rollercoaster or a whirlwind, but something more elegant than that... I'm just saying, if you get mad while reading this book, just hang in there with it. It will surprise you more than once!
Three (or less) things I didn't love:
This section isn't only for criticisms. It's merely for items that I felt something for other than "love" or some interpretation thereof.
1. This will be an uncomfortable read for some readers who are inexperienced with racial or cultural discomfort.
2. The plot is a little soft but not so much that it's convoluted. It inches forward while also gyrating around its trajectory. The story is interesting, but it feels like it changes its mind often. *edit My description of this plot's shape was correct, but not my assessment of its strength. It's freaking brilliant. But it might catch you toward the end!
3. Did she just use "ironically" wrong? What is ironic about white teenage girls smoking cigarettes? I mean, I just don't get this, any ideas fellow readers?
4. This book is just packed with unscientific crap about women's periods, like syncing and chocolate cravings. She laid the groundwork for this, considering the characters' shared and mounting antiwestern sentiments. *edit The author ends up calling this out herself through the main character's arc.
5. The mother worship in the second half of this book is nauseating. I wonder how these characters would treat a woman who was infertile, childless, and past childbearing age? Possibly as invisibly as the fmc considered herself in the book's first half? *edit The author ends up balancing this out by the end of the book: “Motherhood isn’t, like, noble,� she said. “It’s really undignified. And I’m so anxious, all the time. I see death everywhere. Ways Luc could die, or Gor could die, or I could die...."
Rating: 🏔🏔🏔🏔🏔 /5 homes in the thin air Recommend? Yes! Finished: Nov 1 '24 Format: Digital arc, NetGalley Read this book if you like: 🏙 contemporary fiction 👨👩👧� family stories, family drama 👭🏽 women's friendships 💇♀� women's coming of age 👶🏻 women's choice to become mothers 🫄 conception and infertility
Thank you to the author Sanjena Sathian, publishers Penguin Books, and NetGalley for an advance digital copy of GODDESS COMPLEX. All views are mine.
Really enjoyed the first half of this, following Sanjana as she wanders through a tumultuous time in her life, with a kind of uncanny weirdness popping up over and over. But the second half, which I thought would crack the whole thing open, was sadly quite dull. It's very hard to talk about because they are almost two entirely different novels and not knowing what happens in the second part is critical to enjoying the first part.
But the second part, though on paper it sounds like there is a whole lot to sink your teeth into, ended up falling entirely flat. I didn't understand what the point was, I kept waiting for Sanjana to grapple with something or discover something but she just wanders through this part of the book, too. I expected some real consideration of the book's themes, of its questions of motherhood and fulfillment, but it all stayed very much on the surface.
It's strange, because if I were to describe the novel to you it would sound like Sathian is doing something very interesting, and there are elements that I found quite interesting. Her play with the author-as-character alone is worth attention. I noted in my review of Sathian's first novel, GOLD DIGGERS, how much I enjoyed its straightforward consideration of its themes. In some ways this novel is just as straightforward and yet in some ways it never really dives in at all, just dances around them.
“I have no idea what it is like to create a new person, to hope you know them, only to find them filled with mysterious or even repugnant desires, to lose them to forces you disdain or fail to comprehend…I imagine that I have caused my mother tremendous pain. As I shut the door to my childhood home, I thought: If I could be another person, I would.�
Finished this trippy little book last night, which is part psychological thriller, part satire.
A woman leaves her husband after a disagreement over whether or not to have a child. A year later, ready to move on, she tries to contact him and initiate a divorce, only to find…he’s nowhere to be found.
Stranger still, she’s begun to receive weirder and weirder texts, forcing her to (quite literally) confront the life she could have had.
I’ve never read anything like this. It was funny one moment, anxiety inducing the next. It was relatable, unsettling, and completely bananas bonkers.
I received a free digital ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Two and a half stars.
I liked the beginning of this novel, which centers on protagonist Sanjana, a "messy," recently single woman who in some ways seems self-assured, as in her desires not to have children, but in other ways seems stunted and unable to become a full-fledged adult. The book becomes stranger as it progresses and Sanjana discovers that her ex is dating a somewhat more attractive (and possibly pregnant) doppelganger named Sanjena. (Note the similarity not only in the characters' names but to the author's own). From there, Sanjana tries to track down her ex to obtain a divorce and becomes enmeshed with Sanjena through this process.
From this point, I found the book bizarre and it didn't read like a thriller, although there are some strange and slightly chilling plot points, to be sure. I saw it through to the end and while Sanjana does evolve, I didn't feel invested in her story or its conclusion.
The complexity of existing as a parent, to be responsible for a tiny thing that requires all the attention and love one can provide, nurture and instill values to be a functional human in society - IS terrifying. I can understand that. The novel thus opens with someone whose ideas are adjacent to the norm but not with the hiccups an average thirty odd year old would come to.
The concept of motherhood and choosing not to, isn't easy to explain to many. It is where the narrator finds herself in, boxed into being "strange" by her mother and an "outsider" in her clan. Being in process of separating from her Irish-Indian husband and pursuing grad school in Anthropology, she struggles with changes in lives of her best friend who is now pregnant and settled into life of family, and seemingly new woman in her ex-husband's life.
I loved reading into first half of this novel. The struggle to belong, the search that's seemingly aimless and the platitudes she utters to cajole herself, are somewhat relatable. And then it goes wonky. I couldn't understand the sudden shift in tone to somewhat thriller/mystery genre but not entirely embracing it and it derailed the conversation the first half of the book started.
Maybe this was two books; two parts of whole that thematically resembled but executed in widely different styles. As a part of coherent story, it didn't come through.
Thank you to Netgalley and Penguin Press for providing me with a free copy of this e-book in exchange for an honest review.
I loved the discussions of motherhood, or rather, unmotherhood (?) / dismotherhood (?). I’m just making up words here 🤣 But the exploration of why one would want to become a parent (especially a mom) is such a refreshing way of thinking about motherhood. And frankly helps me find my vocabulary when people ask me why I don’t want kids and I get so annoyed but can’t just tell them off 😅
I also appreciate the discussions about the intersection of one’s selfhood/identity and one’s decision to become a mom. Especially the exploration that if someone doesn’t have a real sense of identity, how do they bring up a human being? Similarly, once someone becomes a mom, how do they maintain their sense of selfhood?
There’s also an interesting feminist vs anti feminist tug of war when speaking about becoming a mom and abortion. I wish these themes are explored more deeply. But the book definitely makes me question if my aversion towards motherhood is because I think that’s the “feminist� thing to do, or is it really an informed decision? But how much of our ideas around motherhood are shaped by societal expectations and feminist fantasies?
The novel has quite a slow start, and I wish the ending isn’t as neatly wrapped up. I was expecting the story to go a very wild direction but that didn’t happen. But overall, it raises fascinating questions about one’s desire to have children vs one’s curiosity of the self they would become as parents, and I think that is such a great way to put parenthood into perspective.
Sanjena Sathian's sophomore novel "Goddess Complex" takes readers on a disorienting journey through the labyrinth of modern womanhood, fertility anxiety, and the high-stakes business of reproductive technology. Following her acclaimed debut "Gold Diggers," Sathian returns with a narrative that skillfully blends psychological thriller with dark satire, creating a fever dream of doubling and self-discovery that feels both timely and unsettlingly prescient.
At its core, this is a novel about choices—specifically, the fraught decisions surrounding motherhood—and the ways those choices can haunt and define us. But Sathian elevates what could be a straightforward exploration of reproductive autonomy into a hallucinatory gothic tale that will leave readers questioning their own perceptions until the very last page.
An Anthropologist Adrift in a Sea of Expectations
Our narrator Sanjana Satyananda finds herself in limbo—a 32-year-old anthropology PhD candidate on medical leave from Yale, separated from her actor husband Killian Bane after rejecting his sudden fervor for parenthood. While her peers advance through the prescribed milestones of adulthood—marriage, mortgage, motherhood—Sanjana remains stubbornly undefined, a condition both liberating and isolating.
When strange text messages begin arriving from unknown numbers congratulating her on a pregnancy that doesn't exist, Sanjana's quest to finalize her divorce from the ghosting Killian leads her to a fertility retreat in India run by her uncanny doppelgänger: Sanjena Sathian, a self-proclaimed "pregnancy influencer" who has seemingly usurped Sanjana's identity and possibly her husband. What follows is a mind-bending exploration of identity and desire that defies easy categorization.
Sathian demonstrates remarkable control over her narrative, which grows increasingly surreal as Sanjana falls deeper under the influence of her double's "mirroring" therapy. The lines between reality and delusion blur as Sanjana confronts not just her own ambivalence about motherhood but the very nature of selfhood.
Standout Literary Elements
Unnerving Psychological Depth
The novel's most significant achievement is its portrayal of Sanjana's shifting consciousness as she recovers from a concussion at the "God Complex" retreat. Sathian masterfully captures the disconcerting sensation of watching oneself be remade from the inside:
"I somnambulated through those days, time occasionally punctuated by an awareness of the outside world... I remember an awareness that my life was branching in two directions. I remember acknowledging that I could leave. Then Sunny turned to me, calling my name, a little bell of welcome ringing in her voice: 'Sanjana, aren't you coming?' and I trailed after her in the waning daylight, overtaken by a vision of my many possible selves assembled like dryads in the phosphorescent green forests."
The prose here achieves a hypnotic quality that immerses readers in Sanjana's dissociative state. We never quite know what's real and what's hallucination—a disorientation that mirrors the protagonist's own confusion.
Sharp Social Satire
Despite its psychological intensity, "Goddess Complex" maintains a biting sense of humor, particularly in its skewering of contemporary wellness culture and fertility entrepreneurship. The compound's "womb regression" room and color-coded wristbands (blue for "receivers," pink for "helpers") offer a sardonic take on how capitalism has colonized even our most intimate biological processes.
Sathian is equally incisive in her portrayal of performative feminism and the commodification of female solidarity. When Sanjana's friend Lia hosts a baby shower filled with "angel eggs" (deviled eggs adorned with marshmallow angels) and "onesie decoration," the scene becomes a pitch-perfect satire of the infantilizing rituals that surround pregnancy.
Cultural Identity and Belonging
Though less explicitly focused on Indian American identity than "Gold Diggers," this novel explores the particular pressures placed on South Asian women regarding marriage and reproduction. Sanjana's strained relationship with her mother reveals generational divides about duty and fulfillment, while the commodification of ethnically "matched" egg donors adds another layer to the novel's examination of identity.
Strengths and Weaknesses
What Works Brilliantly
1. Atmospheric tension: The God Complex retreat becomes increasingly claustrophobic as Sanjana loses grip on her autonomy.
2. Thematic depth: Sathian explores reproductive choice without simplified political positioning.
3. Character dynamics: The relationship between Sanjana and her doppelgänger Sunny evolves with disturbing complexity.
4. Cultural commentary: Sharp observations about wellness influencers, fertility anxiety, and the commercialization of reproductive technology.
5. Prose style: Lyrical yet propulsive writing that shifts seamlessly between psychological realism and dreamlike surrealism.
Where It Occasionally Falters
1. Resolution: The novel's ending, while thematically appropriate, may feel abrupt to readers seeking more concrete closure.
2. Secondary characters: Some supporting players, particularly in the retreat setting, remain somewhat underdeveloped.
3. Plot mechanics: Certain coincidences strain credibility, even in a narrative that intentionally blurs reality.
4. Pacing: The middle section occasionally feels repetitive as Sanjana cycles through similar revelations.
Final Assessment
"Goddess Complex" is a disquieting, thought-provoking novel that lingers in the mind long after reading. Sathian has crafted a narrative that feels simultaneously timely and timeless—addressing contemporary anxieties around reproduction while tapping into ancient fears about doubling and self-loss.
Though occasionally uneven in its execution, the novel's ambition and psychological insight make it a significant contribution to contemporary literature. It asks difficult questions without offering easy answers: What defines us when traditional markers of womanhood are rejected? How do we reconcile biological potentiality with personal choice? Where is the line between empathy and identity theft?
Most powerfully, "Goddess Complex" captures the peculiar terror of confronting alternate versions of oneself—the lives not lived, the choices not made, the selves we might have become. As Sanjana reflects near the novel's end:
"I pictured myself banging my head against the rock until I knocked myself out. I could not be trusted with myself. 'I want to be someone else,' I said. 'No. Not someone else. A better you,' Sunny said."
This tension—between transformation and authenticity, between potential and actuality—forms the beating heart of a novel that defies easy categorization but rewards careful reading. In Sathian's hands, the goddess complex becomes not just a satirical jab at fertility entrepreneurship but a profound meditation on female agency in a world still struggling to separate womanhood from motherhood.
Whew. This was a truly wild journey through the world of pregnancies, cults, drugs, and traumatic brain injuries. When 39 year old Sanjana comes home from a year long stint in Bombay researching an old religous figure, she is forced to confront everything she ran away from - a failed PhD, strained family relations, a failed marriage, and above all, her own fertility. She starts to get messages from...herself? And thus begins an unravelling and reckoning with what it means to be a modern woman. This book is both hilarious and equally disturbing, resonating with the double consciousness of what it means to be a modern woman. I could not put it down! Highly highly recommend.
When I started this book, I thought the author was trying to impress. The first sentence was overly bizarre to the point of pretentiousness, followed by descriptive phrases like "Pepto-Bismol pink" and "snow globe synecdoche." But once the book found its flow, it either lost that edge or became assimilated into Sanjana's personality, which I found to be endearing despite being overly negative at times.
Ultimately, this book blew my mind; the author did end up impressing me. She's a brilliant storyteller who crafted an interesting narrative while tackling big topics like feminism, abortion, motherhood, identity crises, and tumultuous family relationships. I found myself relating to much of Sanjana's inner journey, and I think most readers can find at least something to relate to with the wide net Sathian casts.
One thing I do have a question about is the fact that the author gave one of the characters her own name. Maybe it speaks to how personal the story was for her, but I thought it was an interesting choice.
This book is one of my new all-time favorites. The author's writing ability is some of the best I've encountered, her storytelling just as great. But what really captured me was her ability to weave deeper meaning into the text in a way that was both layered and natural. 5/5, I hope this book takes over the internet this year.
I recently reconnected with a college friend after a decade, and as I scrolled through her Instagram and the former classmates I came across through her, I saw photos of engagements, bachelorette parties, and weddings. Golden hour, black tie formal, stunning photos of these girls I once knew—now women—blissfully and beautifully in love. One after another. I called my mom and barely choked out a sentence before bursting into tears. I was bewildered by my reaction, scared, too, having prided myself on being a girl’s girl. Was I secretly a terrible person?� � But I realized that the real trigger was deeper than the superficial stimuli. I was overwhelmed by grief over the life I thought I would have when I was 19. The dreams and ambitions I had, whether they were mine or not. Never mind that what I wanted then is incongruous with who I am now. Never mind that I’d take this reality any day over those expectations. To be perceived, once again, by people who knew me and my insecurities at that age—a self that cringes out present day me—was mortifying.� � As I read GODDESS COMPLEX, I internalized my mom’s response that marriage is not the silencing of comparison culture and there will always be something up for criticism. Sanjena Sathian’s writing is languid but biting, and her sophomore release is delightfully weird. You should read with as little background as possible. Through Sanjana’s character, I was intrigued by the gatekeeping upheld by those with uteruses surrounding fertility and child rearing, especially the dangers of placing one’s sense of self in being a mother. I was enamored and frustrated by Sanjana’s unabashed selfishness, and I found myself wondering where in my socialization, eastern or western, this reaction had its origins. Where is the line between feminist agency and groupthink, Sathian probes. Part psychological thriller, part satire, I saw that, more than motherhood itself, GODDESS COMPLEX is about how our ideas about ourselves can meld our realities to the extremes and the struggle to discern duty from delusion.� � Thank you @penguinpress for the e-ARC. GODDESS COMPLEX is out now 💗
The language is superb. I love the rhythm and pace of the story, however to call it a psychological thriller feels anticlimactic. The plot is eerie and satirically strange, but lackluster. But perhaps that’s the commentary the author is trying to make? The world of fertility, pregnancy, and motherhood is only as scary as your relationship to those topics. The protagonist is both charming and faintly nihilistic, which is a weird combination that somehow works. But again, maybe her being written as unlikable (as most women who deviate from wanting to be mothers often are) is only the perception based on your relationship to feminism. Nonetheless, I liked the main character. And for that, the book prevailed as a surprising favorite.
Sanjena Sathian’s Goddess Complex is a tumultuous love letter for women and their choice, for the ones who do not want to become mothers and have to slave away in motherhood. It also intricately explores infertility and the uncanniness of what one’s obsession can lead to because of an inextricable longing for a child, someone to be born from a womb.
This satirically strange novel breaches the idea of a thriller but emerges as more of a commentary on women’s bodies, the idea of choice and gaining freedom from that. Mix in the complexities of the South Asian diaspora and navigate through the character Sanjana’s beautifully chaotic life.
Sathian has a unique way of addressing herself—author-as-main character. In a very intriguing way, she broke the fourth wall as she addresses her ‘not� self whilst they convene about ‘mirroring� in their book. It was an enjoyable read.
[Thanks to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.]
Sanjena Sathian’s Goddess Complex is a rare gem—an intricate and thoughtful examination of women’s choices around motherhood. Sathian navigates this deeply personal subject with nuance, avoiding easy answers and allowing her characters the space to grapple with societal and internal expectations.
What truly shines is her portrayal of relationships between women. From friendships to sistehood and to rivalries, she captures the transformative impact of pregnancies, babies, and the decision to have children with stunning authenticity.
Beautifully written and emotionally resonant, Goddess Complex is a powerful exploration of identity and connection that lingers long after the final page. A must-read.
I truly enjoyed this book. I’ve never reviewed a book and this one was one I got from a giveaway I thought I’d share my thought. It’s truly a 4.5 to me.
In some aspects, especially coming from a similar background, just in a different culture. It was something I could relate to, having seen this trend in my own family and in my own thoughts.
I liked how it felt open ended, like there was more that could’ve been said. It kind of reflects how real life works; how we think we come to terms with our choices, but it’s only the beginning. How the world around us shapes our ideas, or in the case of this book, how our surroundings may have us questioning our beliefs and all you needed was this one different perspective.
So excited to see another book by Sanjena Sathian! And this one is a complete trip! It’s a reflection on fertility and motherhood, for sure (and to that point - I think it does a very good job capturing many different perspectives, without passing off the narrator’s - or author’s - viewpoint as the best) - but it is also just a bit of a fun page-turning thriller! I highly recommend getting yourself a copy when it’s finally out in March!
I liked the novel until the protagonist reached India. I felt that the India section lacked agency and the plot did not work for me. I also did not enjoy the cliches (ashram, yoga, white guy in Bollywood, Mumbai smelling of Bombil fish). But the writing is really good and I will read whatever the author writes next.
Thank you to Net Galley and Penguin Press for the ARC. I really liked the first half of the novel, Sanjena Sathian has got a great writing style, and the characterization and plot in the first half was really interesting. There was also some really nice sarcastic humor. Its in the second half that the plot starts to lose its shape and things become a little weaker.
Loved this book. It was funny, smart, and unexpected. It opens up conversations about love, motherhood and belonging. There were moments where the pacing felt slightly off, which I think happens in books that rely on a major twist. I'm excited to see this book come out next year! Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC.
Thank you NetGalley and to the publisher for the advanced copy! At first, when I started reading, this was a five-star read for me. As someone who does not want children, I absolutely loved the main character. It’s so rare to read a book where the main character doesn’t want children (and I loved how she didn’t have a change of heart by the end!). I loved how she was such a strong character and didn’t care what anyone thought and was just trying to survive her thirties and figure out the messiness of life. But the second half disappointed me. I really wish it went into a different direction (I don’t want to give it away). But overall, the writing was fantastic and really reminded me of Ottessa Moshfegh. I recommend this book to fans of Ottessa Moshfegh and Melissa Broder or Megan Nolan.
I went into this thinking this was another one of my favorite micro genres- “women who don’t have their shit together, but are completely content in bucking the system�, but this was so much more.
I’m not going to say much because the fun is in the surprise, but that switch in part two?!
I’m still not 100% sure what I just read, but I enjoyed it 😆
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Press for an e-ARC of this book.
2.5 stars, rounded up
I'm feeling a little sad to rate this book so low. The first half of the book was quite good. It was a good look at motherhood and pregnancy, and the pressure that women like our main character Sanjana feel from those around them. Sanjana is the daughter of Indian immigrants whose relationship was the result of an arranged marriage, and her views surrounding marriage and motherhood are influenced by this background. I felt like the first half of the book did a pretty decent job weaving all these topics together and digging into Sanjana's feelings on them.
In the second half of the book, though, the analysis just felt way shallower. Once in India, Sanjana goes into a daze and stops thinking so hard about pregnancy, even though she is surrounded by women who are trying to conceive (which is in sharp contrast to how she felt around her friend Lia in the first half of the book). We also get what I would consider a "villain monologue" towards the end that would have been a great segue to talk more deeply about the pressure many women face to become mothers, but Sanjana's strongest reaction to that is basically just thinking, "I understand why she feels that way and I don't blame her". I don't think Sanjana needed to have her own monologue on the subject, but a bit more than what we got would've been nice.
There were also some writing choices in the last parts of the book that just left me feeling dissatisfied. First was the fact that a few of the things Sanjana did in India were motivated by her thinking "it felt natural" to do. Each time that type of descriptor popped up, my immediate reaction was, "Why, though?" Also, going back to the lack of depth, the ending just felt a little too neat. I can get that Sanjana's experience with Sanjena in India probably helped her figure out a lot of her complex feelings around motherhood, but I don't feel like we got to see that. While in India, she spends so much of her time in a haze that there's not much room for her to consider her own feelings. And so, when the ending comes around and she's seemingly made peace with a lot of her problems from the first half of the book, it just felt unsatisfying.
Sanjena Sathian’s "Goddess Complex" is a daring, multi-layered narrative that expertly blends introspection with satire, taking readers on an unforgettable journey through themes of identity, societal expectations, and personal transformation.
The brilliant yet disoriented protagonist, Sanjana Satyananda, is caught in the chaos of a crumbled marriage, a stalled academic career, and a profound dissatisfaction with the rigid norms of femininity and Indian-American culture. Sathian’s storytelling is as sharp as it is whimsical, weaving a hallucinatory and engrossing tale that keeps readers hooked from start to finish.
The plot is both intricate and intriguing, as Sanjana’s quest to make sense of her life—sparked by mysterious DMs and a surreal encounter with her own doppelgänger—takes her from Connecticut back to India, where the story intensifies with unexpected twists and revelations. Sathian’s choice to integrate Gothic elements like doppelgängers and gaslighting adds a layer of suspense and intrigue, while the vibrant cultural backdrop enriches the narrative. The pacing alternates moments of page-turning tension with poignant introspection, keeping readers thoroughly engaged.
What truly elevates the novel is its characterization. Sanjana is a deeply flawed and compelling character whose struggles resonate on a profound level. Her vulnerability, sharp wit, and search for meaning make her journey all the more captivating. The supporting cast—ranging from her estranged husband and enigmatic influencer doppelgänger to her eccentric family—adds depth and complexity, with each character reflecting facets of the societal pressures Sanjana grapples with.
With its bold narrative, rich plot, and incisive commentary, "Goddess Complex" is a triumph of both storytelling and thematic exploration, delivering a reading experience that is both thought-provoking and immensely enjoyable.
I received an ARC from the publisher in exchange for an honest review
Goddess Complex by Sanjena Sathian is a first person-POV literary novel with strong themes of choosing not to be a mother, being othered as a South Asian woman, and how obsessed society is with having children. Sanjana had an abortion and left her husband, Killian, in India a year ago and is now unable to contact him to get a divorce. He’s not responding to her messages and is now being photographed with a woman who looks sort of like Sanjana. And other people are now messaging Sanjana, assuming that she’s Killian’s new partner. As time goes on, Sanjana’s life and the life of this mystery woman become more and more entwined.
It was bold of Sanjena Sathian to have a main character with a name not only incredibly similar to her own, but also to have a character with a name identical to her’s (Sanjena) and then feature that one letter difference as a plot point. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an author do that. I feel that so many authors would be afraid of being called a narcissist for including their name or readers acting weird about it. Sanjena Sathian goes full speed ahead and not once did I think it was weird because, if anything, it made the novel feel more like either a work of autofiction or something deeply personal with her exposing parts of herself that people could reject.
The complex themes about not choosing motherhood are directly tied to infertility and rapidly losing time to give birth when you hit your thirties. This hit hard for me as someone who definitely wants kids but can feel my clock ticking. Sanjana doesn’t want kids as far as I could see, but she still has that knowledge that she is running out of time as her best friend finally gets pregnant and Killian became desperate to have a family with her when his career was going nowhere. The woman who slowly starts to assume Sanjana’s life is even a pregnancy influencer. I think it is such a difficult topic for so many women because it becomes so much harder for us to have kids before half our lives are even over and we feel pressured to do it, but what if we decide later to have them and it’s too late? A lot of women grapple with this and we need to keep talking about it until society accepts that being a parent should be an active choice but also that having fertility issues isn’t some kind of failing.
Content warning for mentions of racism, sexism, abortion, depictions of pregnancy and sexual assault
I would recommend this to readers looking for books with themes of infertility and choosing not to be a mother and themes of identity
As a woman that doesn’t have children and doesn’t intend to, the premise of Goddess Complex sounded interesting. Sanjana has an abortion after her husband gets her pregnant and she doesn’t want to have children. She is then left dealing with being in a position that’s in direct opposition to what women have been told they should want, to be married with children. It’s a stigma that’s dated that makes women question their purpose and self worth if it’s something they don’t want. In Sanjana’s case, her formerly feminist best friend is expecting and then to add insult to injury there’s someone who appears to be masquerading as her that appears to be pregnant by her husband that she isn’t yet divorced from. So naturally, Sanjana decides to go back to India to find her husband and Sanjena, the pretend Sanjana. Then it gets really weird. While it’s plausible it feels surreal, and beyond normal reality. I already wasn’t a fan of Sanjana’s entitlement and behavior (and I still want to know why characters like this are pitched by by marketing publicists as prototypical millennials) but this made the book unappealing to me. By the end it returns to a sense of more normalcy but it was hard to pull myself out of the fever dream of what happened in India. A complimentary copy of this book was provided by the publisher. All thoughts and opinions are my own.
Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Press for the free copy in exchange for my honest review.
I really wish I could give this a higher rating! The writing was great and the author is so smart and funny. As promised, it’s an exploration of motherhood and, importantly, non-motherhood. I’m in the stage of life where I and my friends are thinking about this topic a lot, so many of her insights hit home. There were several passages I wanted to highlight and it even made me laugh out loud once, which is a feat!
Unfortunately, while I liked the idea of this book, the story itself didn’t work for me. The main character is a woman about my age and a bit of a mess, which is always a struggle for me. The first half of the book had potential, but it completely fell apart for me in the second half, when it turned from literary fiction into more of a thriller that didn’t come together or hold my attention. I considered DNFing around 70%, but because it was such a quick read I decided to see it through and find out what happened. The ending was too tidy and unsatisfying. I’m eager to read Sathian’s debut, GOLD DIGGERs, because I have a feeling it will work better for me, but I’m not sure I recommend this one.
This is a beautiful exploration of fertility, divinity, and the relentless societal gaze on women’s bodies. Sathian masterfully unpacks the insane expectations placed on women including how they are valued, revered, and scrutinized based on their choices (or lack thereof) about reproduction. The conversations surrounding motherhood, modern womanhood, feminism, social media, and pro-choice were so refreshing!
It made me sit with ways history and culture have shaped conversations about fertility � how womanhood is often tied to the ability (or willingness) to bear children and how those who choose otherwise are seen as incomplete or defiant. In Goddess Complex, Sathian refuses to let these narratives go unquestioned, instead offering a story that is tender, fierce, and beautifully unsettling.
I loved every moment of this � Sathian’s prose, the political commentary, the plot twists??? I don’t want to say too much because I think you should go in relatively blind! But, this was such a perfect read for Women’s History Month, reminding me that our power is not in what we can produce but in who we are.
Thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Press for an eARC in exchange for my honest review.