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Political Mismatch and Messy Compromises in Elizabeth Harris’s “How to Sleep at Night”

The fault lines of American politics divide urban and rural, wealthy and working class, white and Black, and surprisingly often, spouses. Though interparty relationships have long been both a private and public phenomenon—some will remember the buzz around the romance of warring political strategists Mary Matalin (R) and James Carville (D) during the 1992 presidential campaign—the next round of the Trump administration has brought renewed focus to discordant politics within romantic partnerships. While sharing a life and a bed with someone on the opposite side of the aisle would be unthinkable for some, it’s a reality for many others. Elizabeth Harris’s debut novel How To Sleep at Night explores not just the strange bedfellows of politically mismatched partners, but also the messy tradeoffs necessary to live our values, meet our needs, and safeguard our identities.

Gabe is horrified when his husband Ethan tells him that he wants to run for congress—as a Republican. Though they are an affectionate couple with a healthy marriage who have created a loving home for their five-year-old daughter Chloe, their compatibility ends with their political allegiances. Gabe is a self-described “pinko lefty,” but Ethan became a conservative after working a disillusioning job for a corrupt Democratic congressman. Despite Gabe’s strong reluctance, he pledges to support his husband’s political aspirations because “if their roles were reversed, there was no question that Ethan would support him. Ethan would say yes.” As Gabe is pulled into photo shoots and fundraisers behind enemy lines, he goes through the motions of supporting a campaign he despises for the man he loves. But when Ethan’s campaign picks up momentum and his popularity and exposure increases, the conflict between Gabe’s marriage and his principles becomes harder and harder for him to manage.

Ethan’s sister Kate also disagrees with his politics, but she takes a philosophical approach to Gabe’s conundrum:

“‘They started dating when they were so young, and in most ways, they’ve really grown together,’ Kate said. ‘So what’s Gabe supposed to do? Does he blow up a pretty excellent daily life for something that feels abstract? I don’t think most people would.’” 

But Kate is less cautious when it comes to her own liaisons.  When her old flame Nicole reaches out to her via Instagram, Kate picks up the thread of their relationship despite its dysfunctional dissolution fifteen years ago. They reunite at a bar, each manifesting a socially acceptable form of success and stability: Kate is a respected journalist whose work regularly appears on the front page, and Nicole lives a picket fence perfect life in the suburbs, a stay-at-home mom with two kids and a wealthy husband. Though Kate and Nicole live in different worlds, they share a quiet dissatisfaction with their lives. Their rapidly rekindling passion for one another soon becomes undeniable, and they each must choose whether to embrace their illicit relationship or reject the risks it entails.

Harris leads readers smoothly in and out of these characters’ interlocking lives, nimbly establishing their worlds—the humdrum minutiae of suburban parenthood, the endless grinding obligations of a political campaign, the gentle ennui of a career going stale—and offering a streamlined but addictive look into the mechanisms of their choices. 

Kate and Nicole’s dynamic encompasses a host of challenges, from bisexual erasure to the pressures of parenthood to maintaining healthy boundaries to crises of multiple varieties (career, identity, midlife). The nuance of their interactions is thought-provoking but accessible, and it’s likely that most readers will identify with both women in at least one respect, if not many. 

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In contrast, Gabe and Ethan’s situation has fewer layers, but some readers may find themselves even more invested in its outcome—especially those who do not have the experience of grappling with their partner’s politics. Gabe’s passionate liberal beliefs are so out of alignment with Ethan’s worldview and ambitions that it’s tempting to convert the titular question of “How [does Gabe] sleep at night?” to “How are they still together in the first place?” Beyond Gabe’s desire to be a supportive partner and his testimony that Ethan is a “gentle father and generous husband,” the remaining ideological chasm between them is bridged only by the alchemy of attraction. Their mutual passion for each other is strong—even after a furious fight about gun control, the couple makes love. 

Are those things enough to explain Gabe’s attempt to support his husband’s campaign? Enough to make sense of their relationship? What about our country—could a similar level of domestic commitment and mutual support somehow make the American marriage work? It’s tempting to extrapolate, to swivel Harris’s sensitive, astute lens toward the political disharmony reverberating from sea to shining sea. That may well be a worthwhile exercise, but it risks distracting from a well-crafted and ultimately satisfying story.

FICTION
How to Sleep at Night
By Elizabeth Harris
William Morrow & Company
Published January 7, 2025

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