Jessica Stanley’s sophomore novel, Consider Yourself Kissed, offers readers a remarkably authentic portrait of contemporary womanhood that spans a decade of one woman’s life. Set against the tumultuous backdrop of British politics from 2013 to 2023, this novel examines the intricacies of love, motherhood, career, and identity with both heartwarming tenderness and biting humor.
Stanley deftly illustrates how our intimate relationships and personal growth are inevitably shaped by—and sometimes at odds with—the broader social and political contexts in which we live. Through Coralie Bower, a relatable protagonist who struggles to balance her roles as partner, mother, stepmother, sister, and aspiring writer, Stanley crafts a nuanced exploration of what it means to build a life while attempting not to lose oneself in the process.
The Story: From Meet-Cute to Breaking Point
When Australian expat Coralie meets charming political journalist Adam Whiteman in a London café in 2013, their connection is instant and electric. Recently exiled from her Sydney advertising job after a messy situation with her boss, Coralie is drifting through London life, feeling invisible and untethered. Adam, a divorced father to four-year-old Zora, offers Coralie not just romantic passion but entry into a readymade family.
Their initial years together are characterized by heady infatuation, shared jokes, and the gradual merging of their lives. Coralie renovates Adam’s home, forms a touching relationship with Zora, and eventually welcomes two children of her own—Florence and Max. All while trying to maintain some semblance of a career and nurture her long-dormant writing ambitions.
But as the years pass, Coralie finds herself increasingly subsumed by the demands of motherhood and Adam’s flourishing career. The political landscape shifts dramatically around them—Brexit, multiple prime ministers, COVID-19—while Coralie’s world narrows to the confines of school pick-ups, dinner preparation, and bedtime stories. When her estranged father’s visit triggers a complete breakdown, she must finally confront the ways in which she has lost herself in the pursuit of being everything to everyone.
Characters: Complex, Flawed, and Utterly Real
Stanley excels at character development, presenting figures who are complex and contradictory in the way real humans are:
Coralie: A woman torn between her multiple identities, who both resents and embraces the limitations of domesticity. Her internal struggles feel painfully authentic, especially her conflicted feelings about motherhood: “Sometimes it was a terrifying thought. But that night she found it a comfort.”
Adam: A charismatic, witty journalist whose political focus sometimes blinds him to his partner’s needs. He’s well-intentioned but emblematic of the way even progressive men can take female support for granted.
Zora: Adam’s daughter from his first marriage, whose evolution from precocious child to thoughtful teenager serves as a throughline in the narrative. Her relationship with Coralie is one of the novel’s most touching elements.
The supporting cast: From Adam’s lesbian mother Anne and her partner Sally to Coralie’s gay brother Daniel and his husband “Big Man” Barbie, Stanley populates her world with distinctive characters who enrich the narrative without overwhelming it.
Themes: The Personal is Always Political
Stanley weaves several interconnected themes throughout her narrative:
The impossibility of “having it all”: The novel thoughtfully examines the crushing weight of expectations placed on modern women to excel simultaneously as mothers, partners, professionals, and individuals.
The impact of public events on private lives: Brexit, political upheavals, and COVID-19 aren’t merely backdrop but actively shape the characters’ decisions and mental states.
Intergenerational trauma: Coralie’s relationship with her authoritarian father has shaped her tendency to sublimate her own needs, a pattern she struggles to break.
The evolution of love: Perhaps most movingly, the novel traces how romantic love transforms over a decade—from intoxicating passion to comfortable companionship to disconnection and, ultimately, to conscious recommitment.
Prose Style: Intimate, Observant, and Wickedly Funny
Stanley’s prose strikes a perfect balance between literary observation and accessible warmth. Her dialogue crackles with wit, while her descriptions of domestic life are rendered with almost photographic precision. She has a particular gift for capturing the physical sensations of motherhood—the weight of a sleeping child, the bone-deep exhaustion of sleepless nights, the visceral fear of something happening to one’s children.
The novel employs a close third-person narration that allows us intimate access to Coralie’s thoughts while maintaining just enough distance to observe her blind spots. Particularly effective is Stanley’s portrayal of Coralie’s mental health decline, which feels both harrowing and completely believable.
Some of the novel’s most vivid scenes include:
Coralie’s first meeting with Adam, when she rescues his daughter from drowning
The chaotic family Christmas gatherings that become annual rituals
The claustrophobic intensity of pandemic lockdowns
The breakdown that forces Coralie to temporarily separate from her family
Cultural Context: A Time Capsule of a Tumultuous Decade
Stanley demonstrates remarkable skill in incorporating the political upheavals of 2013-2023 Britain without ever letting them overwhelm the personal narrative. Brexit, Theresa May’s struggles, Boris Johnson’s ascendency and fall, and the COVID-19 pandemic all feature prominently, providing a rich contextual framework that influences the characters’ lives in subtle and overt ways.
For example, when Coralie watches the Brexit referendum results come in while heavily pregnant, her personal uncertainty mirrors the national mood. Later, during pandemic lockdowns, the enforced togetherness that strains so many families becomes the breaking point for Coralie’s mental health.
These political elements never feel didactic or forced; rather, they’re integrated organically into the fabric of the characters’ lives, much as they are for most ordinary people.
Areas for Improvement: Pacing and Secondary Characters
While Consider Yourself Kissed succeeds brilliantly on most fronts, it does have minor weaknesses:
The novel’s middle section, particularly during the pandemic years, occasionally drags, with certain emotional states revisited perhaps once too often.
A few promising secondary characters and subplots (such as Coralie’s friendship with Alice) are introduced but not fully developed, leaving readers wishing for more.
The resolution, while satisfying, comes somewhat abruptly after such an expansive narrative, with certain reconciliations feeling slightly rushed.
Despite these quibbles, the novel’s strengths far outweigh its shortcomings.
A Personal Connection
The morning after finishing Consider Yourself Kissed, I found myself reaching for my phone to text my sister about a particular passage that had moved me to tears. Only then did I remember I was reading an advance copy (thank you, publishers, for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review), and couldn’t yet share my enthusiasm with everyone I know. Like finding the perfect wine at a tasting and being unable to buy a bottle to bring home, I’ve been impatiently waiting to recommend this book to the women in my life who will recognize themselves in Coralie’s struggles.
Final Verdict: A Triumph of Contemporary Fiction
Consider Yourself Kissed establishes Jessica Stanley as a significant voice in contemporary fiction. Building on the promise shown in her debut novel A Great Hope (2022), Stanley demonstrates a rare ability to blend emotional depth with social observation and wry humor.
Readers who enjoyed Meg Mason’s Sorrow and Bliss, Kiley Reid’s Such a Fun Age, or Sally Rooney’s explorations of relationships will find much to appreciate here. Stanley’s unflinching examination of motherhood also places her in conversation with writers like Rachel Cusk and Sheila Heti, though her approach is ultimately more hopeful.
This is a novel that feels both timely and timeless—deeply embedded in its specific cultural moment while exploring the universal challenges of maintaining one’s identity within the structures of family and partnership. It’s a book that makes you laugh, cry, and most importantly, think differently about the compromises we all make in pursuit of love and stability.
Consider Yourself Kissed is that rare gift: a novel that entertains while illuminating the complex realities of modern womanhood. It deserves a place on your bookshelf—and in your heart.