Class Privilege, Social Mobility, and the Performance of Identity in That Summer
Thematic Claim: Wealth Shields, Reinvention Unmasks, and Identity Is a Performance That Can Be Weaponized or Liberated
In That Summer, Jennifer Weiner argues that class privilege operates as an invisible armor that protects abusers from accountability, while social mobility—when it is possible at all—demands a performance of identity that can either entrap or liberate. The novel traces this tension through three interlocking storylines: Diana’s childhood crossing of class lines, Daisy’s comfortable but complicit marriage, and Beatrice’s rebellion against the very institutions that privilege her. Each character must decide whether to perform the identity their class expects or to use disguise and reinvention as tools of resistance. The Cape Cod cottage, the shell crafts, and the white dress become physical markers of this struggle, while the beach and sea offer a liminal space where identities can be shed and remade. Ultimately, the novel suggests that while privilege can be performed, it can also be exposed—and that the most radical act is to refuse the performance altogether.
The Performance of Privilege at Emlen and in the Shoemaker Household
The novel opens with Daisy Shoemaker, a woman who has spent her adult life performing the role of a wealthy lawyer’s wife. Her husband Hal’s entire career is built on the “Emlen man” network—a system of old-boy connections that secures internships, jobs, and even a New York City apartment for a struggling classmate (Chapter 4). Daisy observes this with a mixture of resentment and self-awareness, admitting that she benefits from Hal’s status “by proximity” and that she “mostly went along with it, quietly enjoying all those unearned benefits.” Her single act of rebellion—writing a check to the NAACP equal to Hal’s Emlen donation—is dismissed by Hal with an indulgent kiss, a gesture that underscores how little her resistance matters within the power structure.
The performance extends to their daughter Beatrice, who is sent to Emlen because Hal insists it will make her “strong and independent.” But Beatrice’s experience reveals the dark side of this privilege. When she spray-paints “RAPIST” on a classmate’s door after her roommate Tricia’s assault is ignored by the school’s Honor Council, the dean’s response is telling: he focuses on Beatrice’s violation of “Core Practices” rather than on Colin’s alleged crime. Beatrice’s protest is a direct challenge to the school’s performance of justice—she points out that Tricia followed every procedure, but “nothing was ever going to happen. Because Colin matters more to you—to Emlen—than Tricia does.” The dean’s ritualistic pipe-lighting and his invocation of “due process” are themselves performances, designed to maintain the illusion of fairness while protecting the institution’s reputation.
Beatrice’s expulsion is framed by Hal as a failure of discipline, but it is also a moment of liberation. She tells her mother, “Now I can tell Dad that I tried, but that this isn’t for me.” Her cheerful acceptance of expulsion is a refusal to perform the role of the grateful boarding-school student. Later, at the Melville School, she deliberately dresses in black lace and a faux-leather bustier, aligning herself with the “misfit toys” rather than the preppy social tier. When Cade Langley, the school’s golden boy, invites her to sit at his table, she recognizes the performance required: the girls all wear the same hairstyle and makeup, the boys the same clothes. Beatrice’s choice to sit with them is a temporary, ironic performance—she knows she is being observed, and she uses her outsider status to unsettle the group’s assumptions.
Diana’s Social Mobility and the Cost of Crossing Class Lines
Diana’s story is the novel’s most explicit exploration of social mobility. As a fifteen-year-old scholarship student from South Boston, she is granted access to the wealthy world of Cape Cod when Dr. Levy hires her as a mother’s helper. The Prologue shows her arriving in Truro with a yellow bikini and a grandmother’s money, eager to perform the role of the cheerful caregiver. But her crossing of class lines is not a triumph; it is a trap. At the bonfire, Poe—a recent Emlen graduate—tells her she “looks like summer” before handing her a drink. The assault that follows is never described in detail, but its aftermath defines Diana’s life. She loses years to trauma, and her later success—owning the Abbey restaurant and a Cape Cod cottage—is hard-won but haunted.
Diana’s reinvention as a successful restaurateur is itself a performance. She has constructed a new identity, one that hides her past and her pain. But the novel shows that this performance is fragile. In Chapter 31, she reflects on the Supreme Court justice who was confirmed despite credible accusations, and she thinks about “all the men who’d harmed women and who’d sailed on with lives continued, unimpaired.” Her decision to approach Daisy “sideways” rather than confront Hal directly is a strategic performance: she creates a fake email address, a bogus Facebook page, and a website to impersonate a consultant named Diana Starling. This constructed identity allows her to get close to Daisy without revealing her true purpose. It is a performance of class—she mimics the language of business consultants and the ease of a wealthy woman—to infiltrate the world that once excluded her.
The Cape Cod cottage, which Diana now owns, is a symbol of both her achievement and her unresolved trauma. It is the site where she was assaulted, and it is also the place where she finally confronts Hal. When Daisy arrives at the cottage in Chapter 34, Diana shows her the wedding photograph of herself and Michael, and then tells her full history. The cottage becomes a stage for the unmasking of Hal’s privilege. Daisy, who has been performing the role of the supportive wife, finally sees Hal for what he is. The confrontation is not a legal reckoning but a personal one—Daisy tells Hal, “You’re a rapist,” and demands a divorce. The performance of privilege collapses when the truth is spoken aloud.
Beatrice’s Rebellion and the Limits of Privilege
Beatrice’s arc complicates the theme of social mobility. She is born into privilege, but she rejects its performance. Her Etsy shop, where she sells felt replicas of pets, is a creative outlet that her father dismisses as a distraction from academics. Her desire to attend a magnet art school is overruled by Hal’s decree: “You’ll go to Emlen, and after that you’ll get a liberal arts degree.” Beatrice’s rebellion—the spray-painting, the deliberate choice of “misfit” friends, her refusal to be impressed by Cade’s table—is a performance of defiance, but it is also a performance of authenticity. She wants to be seen as herself, not as the daughter of a wealthy lawyer.
The novel’s Coda shows Beatrice paddleboarding across Cape Cod Bay, now attending public high school in Orleans. Her father visits every other weekend, renting a cottage in North Truro and bringing gifts for her mother. Beatrice’s new life is a deliberate rejection of the Emlen world. She tells a young man she meets on the water that she lives there year-round, and she recommends the crabmeat-stuffed cod at the Abbey. This is a quiet performance of belonging—she is no longer the outsider looking in, but a local who knows the best places to eat. Yet the novel does not romanticize this mobility. Beatrice’s father still controls the family’s finances, and the house they live in is his father’s. Her mother’s job at the Abbey is a step toward independence, but it is also a reminder that Daisy’s own social mobility is limited by her marriage.
Complexity and Contradiction: Complicity, Reinvention, and the Possibility of Change
The novel refuses to offer a simple moral. Daisy is both a victim of Hal’s control and a beneficiary of his privilege. She admits to Diana that she “benefited from his status by proximity” and that she “mostly went along with it.” Her complicity is not passive—she actively enjoys the perks of the Emlen network, even as she resents them. This contradiction is central to the theme. The novel asks whether it is possible to accept privilege without becoming complicit in its abuses. Daisy’s eventual divorce is a step toward breaking that cycle, but the Coda shows her still living in Hal’s father’s house, still dependent on his financial support.
Diana’s reinvention is similarly ambiguous. She has built a successful life, but she has also hidden her past. Her decision to approach Daisy through a fake identity is a performance that could be seen as manipulative, yet it is also a form of justice—she is using the tools of the privileged (social media, business jargon, a polished persona) to expose their hypocrisy. The novel does not condemn her for this; instead, it suggests that when the system fails to protect women, they must create their own forms of reckoning.
The symbols reinforce this complexity. The Cape Cod cottage is both a site of trauma and a place of healing—Diana owns it, and Daisy and Beatrice eventually find refuge there. The shell crafts that Diana teaches Beatrice are a creative act of transformation, turning broken fragments into something beautiful. The white dress, which appears in the novel as a symbol of innocence and purity, is also a performance—Drue Cavanaugh, the Instagram influencer whose murder Beatrice obsesses over, wore a white dress on her wedding day, but her online persona was a lie. The beach and sea represent the possibility of change: the tide comes in and goes out, erasing footprints and allowing new beginnings.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does the novel use the Emlen network to illustrate the performance of class privilege?
The Emlen network is a system of reciprocal favors that operates on the assumption that its members are inherently deserving. Hal’s career is built on recommendations from Emlen men, and his classmates provide each other with housing, jobs, and art sales. The novel shows that this network is a performance of meritocracy—it rewards loyalty to the group rather than individual achievement. Daisy’s observation that “they hire each other” and “give each other’s children internships and jobs” reveals the unspoken rules of this performance.
2. In what ways does Diana’s fake identity as “Diana Starling” both mimic and subvert class privilege?
Diana’s fake identity mimics the language and demeanor of a successful consultant—she creates a website, a Facebook page, and uses business jargon to appear credible. This performance allows her to gain access to Daisy, who would never have met her otherwise. By subverting the tools of privilege, Diana turns the system against itself. She uses the same social media and networking strategies that the wealthy use to maintain their status, but she does so to expose Hal’s crime.
3. How does Beatrice’s expulsion from Emlen challenge the idea that privilege protects its members?
Beatrice’s expulsion is a direct challenge to the idea that Emlen protects its own. She is expelled for vandalism, but her real crime is speaking the truth about Colin’s assault. The school’s response—focusing on her violation of “Core Practices” rather than on Colin’s behavior—shows that the institution prioritizes its reputation over justice. Beatrice’s cheerful acceptance of expulsion is a refusal to perform the role of the contrite student. She understands that the system is rigged, and she chooses to leave rather than play along.
4. What role does the Cape Cod cottage play in the novel’s exploration of social mobility?
The cottage is a symbol of both privilege and trauma. For Diana, it is the site of her assault, but it is also the home she later owns—a testament to her hard-won success. For Daisy and Beatrice, the cottage becomes a refuge after they leave Hal. The novel uses the cottage to show that social mobility is possible, but it is never free from the past. The cottage is a place where identities can be remade, but it is also a reminder of what was lost.
5. Does the novel offer a definitive answer about whether privilege can be overcome?
The novel is ambivalent. Daisy’s divorce and Beatrice’s move to public school suggest that change is possible, but the Coda shows that the family still depends on Hal’s money. Diana has built a successful life, but she has done so by hiding her past. The novel suggests that privilege is not easily dismantled—it can be challenged, exposed, and even escaped, but it leaves lasting scars. The final image of Beatrice paddleboarding away from a potential new friendship suggests that she is still figuring out who she wants to be, and that the performance of identity is an ongoing process.