Violence and Control in Freida McFadden's The Boyfriend

Defining the Thematic Claim

In The Boyfriend, Freida McFadden presents a layered exploration of how men and women exert control through physical aggression, intimidation, and emotional manipulation. The novel argues that violence is rarely a single, isolated act; instead, it emerges from a web of learned behavior, obsessive desire, and systemic power imbalances. Control can be obvious—a hand gripping a wrist against a wall—or hidden behind romantic gestures and whispered promises. The story traces this theme across three connected arcs: Tom’s childhood abuse and his violent protection of Daisy, Kevin’s predatory manipulation of Sydney, and Sydney’s final complicity in overlooking Tom’s murder of Kevin. Each strand reinforces that the line between protector and predator is disturbingly thin.

The Prologue: Violence Disguised as Devotion

The prologue introduces an unnamed narrator who has loved Daisy Driscoll since childhood. His internal monologue reveals a terrifying contradiction: he fears his own capacity to strangle her if she ever reciprocates his feelings. This confession establishes the novel’s core tension—romantic obsession intertwined with lethal control. The narrator’s desire to possess Daisy coexists with a compulsion to destroy her. The reader later learns this narrator is Tom Brewer, whose violent fantasies are rooted in his upbringing. The prologue primes us to ask: can love and violence coexist? The novel suggests they often do, especially when one partner holds disproportionate power.

Tom’s Childhood: The Cycle of Abuse and Control

Tom’s backstory, revealed in flashback chapters, shows how violence became his language of control. His father, Bill Brewer, routinely beats his mother and Tom. In one pivotal scene, Tom threatens his father with a fire poker to protect his mother, but hesitates long enough for his father to disarm him. His father then jabs the poker into Tom’s belly, drawing blood while his mother pleads helplessly. This moment cements a lesson: hesitation leads to defeat. Tom later kills his father after Bill makes crude comments about Daisy. In that scene, Tom stabs him, twists the blade, and ultimately slits his throat—all while rationalizing the act as protecting Daisy. The ant farm symbol recurs here; Tom observes the ants’ organized violence, mirroring his own methodical approach. The blood and nosebleeds motif underscores how violence is both literal and inherited. Tom learns from his father that control is achieved through force, but he also sees his mother’s passive complicity—she covers for Bill and tells Tom to stay out of it. This twisted model teaches Tom that love requires violent protection.

Kevin’s Predation: Intimidation and Emotional Manipulation

Parallel to Tom’s story runs Sydney’s date with Kevin. In Chapter 2, Kevin first insults Sydney’s arms, orders for her, and dismisses her drink choice—emotional manipulation that sows self-doubt. When she refuses his demand for a kiss, he grabs her wrist and pins her against a wall, declaring “the fun is just getting started.” This physical aggression is the culmination of a pattern: Kevin uses charm, then belittlement, then intimidation to control the interaction. Sydney’s vulnerability is heightened because she came alone, relying on a friend who forgets the rescue call. The burner phone symbolizes the anonymity that enables such predatory behavior. Later, Kevin stalks Sydney, leaving threatening notes and breaking into her home. Jake Sousa, Sydney’s ex-boyfriend and a police officer, tries to protect her, but the system fails to stop Kevin. This arc shows that control often operates in plain sight, exploiting social norms of dating and women’s learned politeness.

The Epilogue: Complicity and Ambiguity

The novel’s epilogue deepens the theme by implicating Sydney in violence. Tom murders Kevin and sends a lock of hair to Sydney with a note: “Kevin won’t be bothering you ever again.” Sydney briefly considers telling Jake but instead throws the evidence away, choosing to move on. This act makes her complicit: she accepts Tom’s violent solution to her problem. The scrunchie symbol—a personal item Tom keeps from Daisy—represents how objects become tokens of control and ownership. Sydney’s decision mirrors Tom’s mother’s earlier denial of abuse; both women protect violent men to preserve their own safety and peace. The epilogue refuses to offer easy moral clarity. Tom’s violence “saved” Sydney from Kevin, but it also perpetuates the cycle of control. Sydney’s silence allows a killer to remain free, and her reunion with Jake suggests a return to a relationship dynamic where she is cared for rather than empowered.

Character and Symbol Connections

Tom is the novel’s most complex embodiment of the theme. He is both victim and perpetrator, protecting Daisy through the same brutality his father used against him. Gretchen (Daisy Driscoll) becomes a silent partner; she knows Tom’s nature but chooses to stay with him, echoing her father’s earlier protectiveness. Randy Muncy and Kevin Orson Finley represent different modes of male control—Randy’s alcoholic rage and Kevin’s predatory charm. Jake Sousa offers institutional control through law enforcement, but he is ultimately ineffective; Tom’s extrajudicial violence proves more final. The burner phone symbolizes anonymity and deception in online dating, while the scrunchie becomes a fetish object of Tom’s obsession. The ant farm visually represents the cold, systematic nature of violence. Blood imagery—from nosebleeds to murder scenes—underscores that violence leaves permanent marks, both physical and psychological.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel complicates the theme by making the “good” characters complicit in violence. Tom kills to protect, but his motives are rooted in possessive love. Sydney accepts Tom’s murder of her stalker, rationalizing that Kevin “deserved it.” This blurs the line between victim and perpetrator. The afterword, a direct address from the author, is purely promotional and does not engage with these moral questions, forcing readers to sit with the ambiguity. The book challenges us to ask: can violence ever be justified? Is protection a form of control? The narrative refuses to answer definitively, instead showing how cycles of abuse repeat across generations and relationships.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Tom’s relationship with his father shape his understanding of love and control?
   Tom learns from his father that violence is a tool for dominance and that protecting loved ones requires physical force. His mother’s passive submission teaches him that women are victims who need rescue. This contradictory model leads Tom to believe that love and violence are inseparable.

2. In what ways does Kevin’s behavior on the date with Sydney exemplify coercive control before physical aggression?
   Kevin uses belittlement (commenting on her arms), ordering her food, and dismissing her drink choice to establish dominance. He then isolates her by walking her home against her wishes and demands physical affection. These tactics wear down Sydney’s resistance until she is physically trapped.

3. Why does Sydney throw away the evidence of Tom’s murder in the epilogue?
   Sydney chooses self-protection over justice. She recognizes that reporting Tom would drag her into a lengthy investigation and possibly expose her own vulnerability. By discarding the lock of hair and note, she avoids confronting the moral cost of benefiting from violence.

4. How does the symbol of the ant farm relate to Tom’s view of violence?
   The ants’ organized, instinctual behavior mirrors Tom’s methodical approach to killing. He observes them without emotion, suggesting he sees lethal force as natural and efficient—a problem-solving mechanism rather than a moral failure.

5. What does the novel suggest about the effectiveness of institutional control versus personal violence?
   Despite Jake’s best efforts as a police officer, the legal system fails to stop Kevin from stalking Sydney. Tom’s extrajudicial murder stops the threat instantly. The novel implies that institutional controls are slow and inadequate, while personal violence—however morally fraught—can be immediate and decisive.