SuzeReviews: Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke

In August of 2025, I preordered Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke on a whim, intrigued by a pithy blurb shared by an ARC reader - tradwife goes back in time? Count me in. It arrived this past Tuesday, and I devoured it in a breathless three days. The book is generating a lot of buzz and media attention. Sometimes I find that to be a turn-off or a red flag, but I thoroughly enjoyed my read and thought I'd toss in my own two-cent review.

Yesteryear opens with a day in the life of Natalie Heller Mills, a successful tradwife influencer running a ranch in rural Idaho, before quickly dumping her into a mind-bending quandary: she wakes up with a family and a house that looks almost like hers, but isn't, and on her doorframe is carved the year "1855".

The story moves in a wobbly, flashback-heavy meander. The telling of "The last day of the life [Natalie] imagined for [herself]" is interspersed with recollections of her college years, snapshots from her marriage, and, of course, the brutal reality of the new-to-her world to which she's been transported. This chronological mish-mash takes some getting used to, but ultimately reveals itself as a well-used literary device. The plot gripped me. As I neared the last few chapters, I had no idea how a satisfactory ending could coalesce. Worry not, dear reader: it did.

Through it all, Natalie is an unpleasant but compulsively readable main character. She is wry and cruel, sharp in tone and wit, unloved and unlovable. Her husband and children operate like set pieces in the grand production that is her life, and she's never met a woman she respected. Her narration is a never-ending stream of scorn, slurs, and criticism. It is rare for me to enjoy a first-person narrative from a truly unlikable POV, but I loved feeling like every page turn cracked the veneer of perfection, and there was a sense of karmic justice in her devolvement.

Natalie's resemblance to popular tradwife influencer Hannah Neeleman, aka Ballerina Farm on Instagram, cannot be ignored. Nor is it a coincidence: Caro Claire Burke runs a cultural critique podcast entitled "Diabolical Lies", and her very first episode was an hour and a half deep dive into the hypocricy and danger of Neeleman's online facade. Both Natalie and Neeleman share a picturesque online presence, a gaggle of children in matching outfits, nannies/farm help/modern appliances hidden from the camera, unbelievably wealthy in laws funding their lifestyle, and a mixed bag of adoration and consternation from millions of followers. They are women with every advantage who present a sanitized, nostalgic view for a world that isn't accessible to their viewers -- in fact, it never existed in the first place -- and hide the infrastructure that makes it possible. What's the harm? is a question frequently asked by those who admire this type of content. Yesteryear is a dramatic response in novel form.

In this laudable debut work, Burke has achieved a canny, plugged-in take on the power of social media and the tensely interwoven domestic and financial responsibilities of modern women. If you, like me, are frustrated by the proliferation of tradwife content (and concerned about its cause and effect in America writ large), you will likely find it a satisfying and enjoyable read.

Rating: 5/5 ⭐️

With the fast-paced plot of a blockbuster thriller and the rotten core of the American Dream, Yesteryear delivers a punchy, satirical critique of traditional femininity. Trigger warnings for: pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, domestic abuse, and child abuse.

Click here to order from Bookshop.org or visit your local bookstore!