Great Big Beautiful Life Review

It started with a voicemail.

One of those long ones, the kind where your mom forgets she’s on a machine and just starts talking like it’s a two-way call. She mentioned a book she’d seen in a magazine at the dentist’s office. Said it had "one of those stories you get tangled in."

I rolled my eyes, but wrote it down. I was in a reading slump. And when your mom, who mostly reads cookbooks and spiritual memoirs, recommends something? You listen.

So I picked up Great Big Beautiful Life. And three chapters in, I stopped rolling my eyes. By the end, I was writing down page numbers. Margins filled with question marks and underlines. The kind of book that doesn’t just ask you to read — it dares you to remember.

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Plot That Swerves Like a Convertible Down Mulholland Drive

Emily Henry’s Great Big Beautiful Life isn’t your usual kiss-and-cringe rom-com. This time, she takes her signature banter and slaps it into a three-dimensional Rubik’s Cube of legacy, lies, and literary lust.

The story follows Alice Scott, an ambitious writer with stars in her eyes and stubbornness in her bones, and Hayden Anderson, a Pulitzer-winning journalist who probably bleeds footnotes. Both are competing to write the biography of Margaret Ives — a reclusive, 80-something ex-socialite whose life was once plastered across every gossip column from coast to coast.

Margaret? Oh, she’s an enigma wrapped in a Chanel scarf and buried in secrets. She doles out her life story in riddles, only gives them scraps. And there’s an NDA tighter than shapewear.

Also, the book hops back and forth in time. From glitzy Hollywood heartbreaks to present-day writer-rivalry-turned-slow-burn-romance. The structure’s like peeling wallpaper in a haunted mansion — every layer reveals something deeper. And usually more tragic.

There’s a moment, mid-book, when Hayden walks away from an interview session, shoulders tense, saying nothing. But the silence? Deafening. That’s when you know: this story isn’t just about Margaret. It’s about all of them. The damage. The desire. The dare to be known.

You won’t get spoon-fed. You’ll chase. Guess. Doubt. Cry. Maybe sigh. (Then cry again.)

And then you’ll want more.

Themes, Fame, Family & Finding Your Own Damn Story

This book is Henry’s boldest mic-drop yet. Yes, there’s romance. But also generational trauma. And media manipulation. And “who even am I?” spirals. You know — the fun stuff.

Here’s what Great Big Beautiful Life is really poking at:

• Truth vs. Perception: Margaret gives versions of her story, not the story. Is she unreliable? Maybe. Or maybe she’s just surviving the only way she knows how — through narrative control.
• Legacy & Reinvention: The Ives family is like America’s royal family, but with more skeletons and fewer tiaras. Alice and Hayden have their own family shadows, too. Everyone’s trying to rewrite something.
• Love in Layers: Romantic. Familial. Platonic. Lost and found. Margaret’s life is peppered with big loves, painful departures, and the ghosts of what-ifs.
• Grief That Guts You: Death, cults, car crashes, abandonment. (Yeah, buckle up.) And yet... there’s softness. Healing. Like grief wrapped in silk.
• Storytelling as Power: There’s this constant tug-of-war between who owns a narrative and what’s left out of the official version. Alice and Hayden might be the writers, but Margaret? She’s the ghost in the ink.
• Silence as Survival: What’s not said here matters just as much as what’s shouted. Margaret’s pauses hit harder than most people’s monologues.

The writing’s tactile. Grief hangs like fog. Nostalgia crunches underfoot like autumn leaves. And hope? It's a flickering candle in a hurricane, but damn if it doesn’t keep burning.

Add to that the tension of legacy — the Ives family drama stretches like barbed wire through the book. There’s betrayal in velvet gloves, scandals iced in champagne, and a quiet desperation to break free.

What Henry nails, though, isn’t just the glitz or the heartbreak — it’s the longing. That bone-deep ache for truth, belonging, and a story that makes sense when whispered at midnight.

Characters, Motifs & A Romance That Simmered Like Sunday Sauce

Let’s talk about Alice and Hayden.

• She’s all hustle and heart. Big dreams, bigger doubts.
• He’s precision and polish with a soft center no one expects. (Except us. We totally expect it.)

Their dynamic? Classic Henry slow burn. Banter sharp as lemon zest. Longing that sits under your skin like a bruise. It’s not fast. It’s not easy. It’s earned.

There’s a scene where they’re arguing about how to portray Margaret’s most scandalous moment. It ends in silence. Tension thick as molasses. Neither one budging. But you feel the undercurrent. Like thunder rumbling beneath polite words.

Then there’s Margaret.

• Icon.
• Disaster.
• A glittering ghost with lipstick and claws.

She’s been through hell in heels. She’s also the beating heart of the book. Her life reads like a ballad, whispered behind closed doors, wrapped in guilt and glamour.

But don’t expect tidy resolutions. This isn’t a scrapbook — it’s a mosaic. And every broken tile counts.

Sensory metaphors for the win:

1. Secrets dripped from her lips like honey laced with venom.
2. His silence filled the room like damp velvet-plush, suffocating, unshakable.
3. The truth landed with a crunch, like bones breaking under snow.

Motifs you’ll trip over again and again (in the best way):

• Fragmented storytelling (truth as a puzzle)
• Inheritance and identity (what we carry vs. what we keep)
• Islands and isolation (literal and emotional)
• Glamour as armor
• Rewriting history (personal and public)
• Silence as a shield

Also? Easter eggs. Everywhere. (Yes, Taylor Swift fans — this one’s got Folklore fingerprints all over it.)

Oh — and those nods to The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo? Very intentional. But with more literary rivalry and less Old Hollywood sparkle.

Taylor Swift's Song Influenced the Novel

Taylor Swift has influenced several musical artists, some of whom are lovingly referred to as "Taydaughters." However, her creative effect extends beyond songwriters. Following the release of Emily Henry's new novel, Great Big Beautiful Life, the author discussed how Taylor Swift's songs affected her newest romantic narrative.

Great Big Beautiful Life follows two writers who compete to write a biography of the mysterious heiress Margaret Ives. Margaret, an 80-year-old "tabloid princess" from a bygone period, hasn't been seen in a long time, although her family was one of the most renowned of the twentieth century.

Henry was inspired by Swift's Folklore song, "The Last Great American Dynasty," and the woman it describes, Rebekah Harkness, when he came up with such a memorable name.

Final Thoughts, For Readers Who Feel More Than They Should

But if you crave stories that slip under your ribs and rearrange something tender? If you want characters who mess up, grow up, and show up?

Read this.

It’s ambitious. Atmospheric. Sad in that cathartic way that makes your soul feel exfoliated. It’s romance, sure. But also reflection. Mystery. Memoir. Mess.

Grab it if you:

• Ever wondered what The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo would look like with literary rivals instead of starlets.
• Want to feel like you’re eavesdropping on secrets meant for someone else.
• Need to believe that love-romantic, familial, self-can still bloom after wildfire.
• Believe that glamour can be armor.
• Know that the truth is never the whole story.
• Like your heartbreaks with a side of wordplay.
• Have you ever started crying and couldn’t explain exactly why.

This one’s for the bruised, the brilliant, the hopeful.

Read Great Big Beautiful Life if:

You believe a beautiful life doesn’t mean a perfect one.

Or if you’ve ever looked at your past and thought:

“Maybe... maybe that wasn’t the whole story.”

Or whispered to yourself:

“It’s not too late to write a better ending.”

Or — let’s be honest — if you just love a book that hits like a confession and hugs like a friend.

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