59 pages • 1-hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of child endangerment, child death, and death.
As the novel’s title implies, a major theme in All Her Fault is the misogynistic expectation that mothers are largely responsible for the care of their children and their children’s behavior. The novel explores this notion through the perspective of four mothers, Marissa, Jenny, Carrie, and Irene, and how they experience and represent these expectations.
Jenny is an ambitious businesswoman with a young child, Jacob, who feels pressure from her husband, mother-in-law, and the stay-at-home parents to change the balance between her work and her childcare responsibilities. As a busy working mom, Jenny hires a nanny, Carrie, to help with childcare. For this, she is judged by her mother-in-law, Adeline, who comments rudely, “You just don’t know who you’re letting into your house when you hand over your mothering to someone else” (63, emphasis added). She states that Jenny should stay home to care for Jacob, even though Jenny is the primary breadwinner in the home.
Jenny’s husband, Richie, is not always supportive of his wife. He repeatedly makes snide comments to her about how she should, for instance, stay home more often to help their son with his homework because “It’d be good for Jacob” (197). When the community learns that their nanny, Carrie, has kidnapped Milo, they are quick to blame Jenny for having hired her, even though both Jenny and Richie agreed to hire Carrie. Jenny pushes back against these expectations through contradicting her mother-in-law’s claims and telling her husband he needs to contribute more to childcare duties. Nevertheless, she struggles with feelings of guilt about having hired Carrie.
After Milo is kidnapped, Marissa faces criticism of her abilities as a mother for not having done more to keep her child safe. She is aware of “the online trolls who were blaming her for what happened to Milo. The ‘what kind of mother’ brigade” (318). Despite her experience of this unfair criticism, Marissa feels an impulse to similarly blame Irene, Carrie’s mother, for Carrie’s criminal activity. She thinks, “Carrie didn’t turn out the way she did for no reason” (318). However, she quickly recognizes the injustice of this mode of thinking. Indeed, Marissa’s sympathy for the demands of motherhood extends even to Carrie: She recognizes that Carrie was doing what she felt she had to do to get her son back after he was kidnapped as an infant.
Although they live in very different economic and domestic circumstances, Jenny and Marissa bond over the unrealistic expectations of their roles as mothers despite their demanding careers. When Marissa commiserates with her that she “work[s] full-time and still do[es] most of the childcare logistics,” Jenny realizes that they share this “common ground” (304-5). It is one shared, to some extent, by all of the mothers in the story.
Like in many mystery thrillers, people in All Her Fault are not always who they seem to be on first impression. This tension between public personas and private realities is explored both through the plot and through the third-person limited perspectives of the characters. Carrie, the perpetrator of the plot to kidnap Milo, is the most literal representation of this theme. However, the character development of the Irvines also explores how this so-called “golden couple” differs from their public perception.
As part of her plot to get close to the Irvines, Carrie creates an entirely new persona to get a position as a nanny in the Kennedy home. In reality, Carrie is an intense, manipulative, and determined young woman from a broken family. In furtherance of her plot, she creates the persona of Carrie Finch, a sweet, shy, mousy nanny who had an idyllic childhood. She even goes so far as to find a picture of two strangers she claims are her parents. The success of her persona can be seen through Jenny’s perspective. To Jenny, Carrie is something of an enigma. She is not chatty and largely resists Jenny’s attempts to befriend her: “Carrie Finch wasn’t really a bonding-over-Beaujolais kind of girl” (84).
However, in a calculated moment, Carrie commiserates with Jenny about Jenny’s difficult mother-in-law, causing Jenny to see Carrie as an “ally.” When this scene is seen through Carrie’s eyes, it is clear that Carrie is doing so as part of a “plan” to win Jenny’s trust. When Carrie wishes to win over Colin Dobson as part of her scheme, she creates yet another persona: Lena, a fun, glamorous party girl. The illusion is so convincing that Colin does not immediately recognize her as the same person as the withdrawn Carrie. When the difference between Carrie’s aliases and her true identity emerges, Jenny and Colin are shocked.
Similarly, though in a less literal fashion, Marissa and Peter Irvine are seen as confident, privileged, and wealthy. They appear to have no problems in their lives. Jenny admires Marissa’s glamorous lifestyle, but she imagines that her privilege means she is somewhat “flaky.” When Milo disappears, Jenny is forced to reconsider. She recognizes that despite her privileged life, Marissa has “something steely at her core, something keeping her going when most people would surely fall apart” (170). Peter’s private reality is much darker. He is arrogant and a bully toward his younger brother, Brian. However, the most shocking element of his private reality is his drive to do whatever it takes to maintain the façade of his perfect life. When he reveals that he kidnapped Milo from Carrie as an infant and committed multiple homicides to protect this secret, Marissa feels “her world bl[ow] apart” (355).
All Her Fault takes place in the fictional suburb of Kerryglen, where, like many suburban environments, everything seems perfect from the outside. Nevertheless, like anywhere, people’s inner lives are much more complicated and, indeed, dark. The tension between these contrasts shapes the suspense in the novel.
A theme that runs through many of the interpersonal dynamics in the novel is how class divisions impact relationships. The most literal example of this divide is found in the hierarchy between the parents and their nannies, but these class divisions also color the public’s response to Milo’s kidnapping and Carrie’s decision to take extreme measures outside “legal channels” to get her son back.
When Milo first goes missing, the police begin their investigation by questioning the Irvines and the Kennedys about their nannies. It quickly becomes clear that neither set of parents knows much about the lives of their staff. Peter and Marissa, for example, are not even entirely sure of their nanny Ana’s address. In contrast, the nannies, Ana and Carrie, know intimate details of their employers’ lives: Their routines, their preferences, and, of course, their children. The dynamics between the wealthy employers and their working-class staff reveal how the wealthier characters often fail to notice and treat working-class persons as individuals instead of just a means to their own ends, like childcare. Such class divides permeate the community as a whole: As Carrie notes, at the school, “the parents talk to the other parents” while the “childminders” tend to talk only with each other (115). This lack of understanding of the lives of the people who work for them briefly hinders the investigation.
Due to the extreme wealth of the Irvine family, the public response to Milo’s disappearance is harsh. It is colored by the Irish experience of the “Celtic Tiger” when financial speculators became incredibly wealthy, and the subsequent financial crash in 2008 left many impoverished. As one comment notes, “Nobody with that much money gets it legally […] they made money out of poor schmucks during the boom and left them for dust when the economy collapsed” (182). They suspect the Irvines of wanting to profit from the disappearance of their son with “a book deal” (183), even though it is Irene, who grew up working-class and feels she needs the money, who most actively seeks to profit from the tragic situation by selling her story to the tabloids and pursuing public attention.
Although Irene eventually comes into middle-class stability when she marries Frank Turner, her daughter Carrie’s life is defined by struggle and turbulence. When Carrie was young, her father, a career criminal, abandoned them while they lived in public housing. Carrie struggled to find stability in her life as an adult, especially following the tragic accident that left her in a coma for weeks and resulted in the kidnapping of her infant son, whom she believed she had accidentally killed. She is a “runaway, an outsider who was brought up to believe the system lets you down” (373). She does not have the means to pursue justice when she learns her son has been kidnapped by the wealthy, privileged Irvines. Thus, she feels she has no recourse but to hatch the scheme to get close to the Irvines by posing as a nanny and kidnapping Milo.
In a wealthy place like Kerryglen, class divides are thus a key element that shapes the way people interact with each other and understand the world, revealing how wealth inequality can impact people both in their private lives and in the way society treats them.



Unlock every key theme and why it matters
Get in-depth breakdowns of the book’s main ideas and how they connect and evolve.