How to Kill Your Family

Simon is Grace’s biological father, and he is entitled, unfeeling, and self-absorbed. Even as Grace eliminates his family members one by one, Simon cares more about how their deaths affect him than he does about them—even when he believes his daughter, Bryony, was murdered. Simon believed the killer was someone with whom he’d done business and “he clearly had someone in mind because he was frightened” (340). When Harry reveals himself to Grace, he does describe Simon’s grief, but he focuses more on Simon’s growing paranoia and reclusiveness—an indication that Simon’s personal safety meant more to him than any concern for his remaining family or even getting justice for his deceased relatives. Simon’s complete lack of concern for others is revealed in his treatment of Charlotte and Marie, Harry’s and Grace’s mothers. He preyed on naïve women who were decades younger than him and then abandoned them when they became pregnant, failing to take any responsibility for his behavior. He cheated on his wife repeatedly and remorselessly. The fact that he did this not once but twice—at least—reveals that he learned nothing from his first mistake. When his parents assured him he was not to blame, Simon believed them. When Simon sees a picture of Harry’s mother, he says, “Christ, time isn’t kind to women […]. You shack up with a firecracker at 25 and you wake up at 50 with your nan” (329). Simon is undeniably cruel because, as a rich white man, he can be.

Harry describes Simon as “gauche” and says Simon’s home was “indescribably tacky. It was new money, new furniture, arriviste” (320). Simon’s father grew up working class, and Simon, like his father, attempts to mask these origins. Rather than using his privilege to help other people or contributing to philanthropic causes, Simon exploits it, blocking hospital doors with his car while he gets a massage or flipping a table at a restaurant because plates aren’t cleared away fast enough. Harry says the worst is Simon’s “propensity to take a piss off the top of his office building, no matter which unfortunate might happen to be walking the pavement below” (326). Simon does not care about other people beyond how they can serve him.

Despite his villainous character, Simon is not Grace’s antagonist. Her real conflict is with the society that enables men like Simon, Lee, and Jeremy, their father: the society that infantilizes women and yet still holds them responsible for men’s bad behavior. Simon is a flat, static character who is easy to understand and never changes or learns from his experiences. He is so awful that two of his children decide to kill him, independently, to rid themselves and the world of his odious existence. He is the product of patriarchy and an indictment of his society.

Jimmy is Grace’s childhood best friend and love interest. While he is the first to believe that Grace is responsible for the death of his fiancée—a belief that demonstrates his willingness to embrace society’s ideas about women—he is the only person Grace truly cares about. It is, after all, his commitment to Caro that shows Grace how “deliberately small” she’s made her life by focusing solely on revenge. He comes from an affluent family with educated parents, and his race, sex, and pedigree grant him a great deal of privilege. He is also empathetic, and he doesn’t alienate Grace the way his overly solicitous parents do. Grace believes that his experiences have made him cowardly, and he allows Caro to take charge of their relationship, even letting her push him around physically. He also blames Grace for never allowing their relationship to transcend friendship despite their obvious attraction to one another.

While Jimmy buys into the hackneyed and “grubby” narrative that Grace killed Caro out of jealousy, he is also quick to apologize when he realizes his error. He doesn’t believe Grace when she maintains her innocence, even during her trial, but he does correctly identify Grace’s failure to prioritize their relationship, much to Grace’s chagrin. He is, in some ways, another product of patriarchy, but he lacks the entitlement and self-absorption that disgust Grace in other men. Grace’s anticipation of a future romantic relationship with Jimmy might soften the blow of Harry’s revelations, but readers never find out because Grace’s response is omitted from the narrative.

Kelly is Grace’s oft-underestimated cellmate in Limehouse prison. The fact that Kelly continues to commit blackmail, the crime for which she’s been incarcerated multiple times, leads Grace to believe that Kelly is an idiot, incapable of obfuscation or evolution. Grace calls Kelly “an undeniable moron” (36), and she refers often to Kelly’s “limited intelligence,” even calling her a “stupid cow.” To Grace, Kelly’s criminal pattern shows a lack of creativity and ambition, though she feels no sympathy for Kelly’s victims: married men who gladly send nudes to a near stranger. Kelly is pretty, which allows her to do what she does. She keeps a journal, which Grace admits to reading, though Grace never suspects that Kelly is doing the exact same thing to her because she misjudges and underestimates Kelly so deeply. Ironically, being underestimated by others because she is pretty and acts dumb—a common stereotype of pretty women—is precisely the kind of patriarchal expectation Kelly exploits to ensnare her blackmail victims. So, despite Grace’s disdain for the way men stereotype and pigeonhole women, Grace behaves very similarly to these men who underestimate Kelly and then find themselves beholden to her.

In this way, Kelly is Grace’s foil. They both manipulate and capitalize on society’s expectations of them based on their sex and their appearance, but Kelly does not underestimate Grace the way Grace underestimates her. Grace describes the way women in prison trade secrets with one another, but she never expects it to happen to her because she is so smart. Kelly’s character highlights Grace’s haughty pride—which Kelly does not share—Grace is so arrogant that she even hands Kelly evidence of her crimes: the wooden spoon. Grace thinks of herself as Kelly’s intellectual and moral superior, never imagining that Kelly could outsmart her, and this pride leads to the unraveling of her plan to acquire the Artemis fortune when Kelly gives Harry the pictures of Grace’s memoir.