BookBrowse Reviews Seduction Theory by Emily Adrian

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A student writes her MFA thesis about her professor's infidelity.

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Ethan's wife is out of his league and he knows it. While he's attractive, Simone is the kind of gorgeous that turns heads. Both are published authors, but hers was the more successful book—and his book's main character was inspired by her. As her spouse, he was able to secure an adjunct instructor job at the university where she teaches, but she's the serious, tenured scholar. He's not resentful. In fact, he's still as head-over-heels in love with her as he was when they met 20 years ago. So even he is confused when he chooses to cheat on her with Abigail, the remarkably average administrative assistant for their department.

This book probes Ethan's motives and the fallout it causes in his marriage with Simone—but there's a twist. The entire book is framed as the MFA thesis of Robbie, a student they both teach, who is also in love with Simone.

We get frequent fourth-wall breaking moments where Robbie is all too aware of her role as the person bringing the story to life. For instance, she recounts that when she learned about a particular choice Ethan made, she was "horrified (and delighted, for the plot)." The fact that she is portrayed as both a character in the story and its author richly complicates the narrative. Though much of the affair has been shared with her by another character, she reveals information she couldn't possibly have access to, like the inner thoughts of Ethan, a man she barely knows, leaving the reader to wonder how faithful her recounting is. She also has conflicting motives. There is the possible urge to heighten the drama for the sake of her novel, as well as her loathing of Ethan and her obsessive feelings for Simone. She is an unreliable and openly biased narrator, and this adds a level of intrigue to what could have been a mundanely straightforward story about infidelity.

The first half of the book is largely about Simone and Ethan, but in later chapters we see Robbie workshopping chapters from her thesis in class. (She has changed the main characters' names, so her classmates don't realize they're reading about their instructors.) Her fellow students' comments anticipate questions readers might have about the book. Among them are "Why would he do this? Either he loves his wife or he doesn't" and "Is this story doing anything we haven't seen before? Do we need another story about privileged white people having affairs?" This is an effective device that makes us feel we have insight into what the author's doing. We understand that Ethan loves his wife despite his infidelity. It also shows self-awareness on the part of the author. She knows it is a familiar story but believes it is worth telling—and executed well enough to set it apart. The narrative voice is what really makes this book feel distinct. It's slightly snarky and often tough on its characters, a nod to the fact that this type of plot can be a cliched one, while still feeling emotionally resonant, like it is the best effort of a narrator who, underneath it all, wants to tell the most moving story she can.

Seduction Theory is a nuanced character study, not just of Simone and Ethan, but of Robbie. It shows the hero worship dynamic that can develop when a beloved writer is teaching aspiring authors, and the cutthroat world of MFA programs where students are constantly in competition with one another. (For more books featuring MFA programs, see Beyond the Book.) This book is also unique in that the affair partner Ethan chooses is not someone considered to be more attractive or appealing than his wife, but a woman who doesn't really stand out in any way. We see him wrestling with this choice as a feminist—did he deliberately seek out a woman who is below him in "status" because he's subconsciously threatened by Simone's success?—although the implication that he might, underneath it all, be a misogynist is infused with Robbie's contempt for him. It does seem clear that Ethan enjoys being around someone who is impressed by him, the way he is impressed by his wife. It may feel like his chance to step into the "Simone" role.

Abigail, a single mom, is not seen as Ethan and Simone's social equal, even by her own family. There is a scene where her parents are surprised to learn she socializes with faculty, and they lament the fact that she got a degree from a good school but languishes in a low-level administrative job. In a different scene, Ethan looks down on her for placating her child with a tablet. Abigail is a sympathetic yet flawed character. She is by turns catty and generous, grumpy and fun. While she and Simone might have nothing to talk about at a dinner party, they share a certain determined resilience, the sense that they can look after themselves—a trait Ethan often lacks.

This book probes into why people have affairs without really landing on an answer. In the story, as so often in life, the cheater doesn't seem to know why either. It also portrays the messy reality of trying to make a relationship work after a big betrayal. The author is fantastic at dwelling in the complexity of a marriage in shambles. This might be "another story about privileged white people having affairs," but it is one well worth reading.

This review was originally published in The BookBrowse Review in September 2025, and has been updated for the June 2026 edition. Click here to go to this issue.