Category: Reviews

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

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I’ve heard so much about this book since I started blogging, particularly around this time of year when it seems such a popular choice for Halloween or the dark winter nights. Yet somehow I had managed to avoid reading any detailed summaries of the plot and so when I finally picked this book up to read it for myself, I was able to go into it with very little knowledge of what it was about. I would hate to spoil things for any future readers, so I’ve deliberately tried to keep my summary here as vague as possible.

The book is narrated by eighteen-year-old Mary Katherine Blackwood, or ‘Merricat’, who lives with her sister Constance, their Uncle Julian, and Jonas the cat in a big house on the edge of town. Near the beginning of the story we see Merricat walking home with some shopping, being taunted and chanted at by everyone she passes. It seems the Blackwoods are very unpopular, but at first we don’t know why.

When Merricat returns home, it becomes even more apparent that something is wrong. Merricat herself does not seem like a normal eighteen-year-old – she likes to bury things in the grounds of the Blackwood house and believes that using magic words and rituals will protect her home and family. Constance is agoraphobic and afraid to walk any further than the garden. Uncle Julian, confined to a wheelchair, is obsessed with the book he’s writing about a tragedy that occurred six years earlier. And what exactly has happened to the rest of the Blackwood family?

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a great book and now that I’ve read it I can see why it’s considered a modern classic. Something that impressed me about it was the way the story was cleverly constructed so that the truth about Merricat and her family was only revealed very slowly. We know from the first page that something is not right but we’re not quite sure what it is. As we read on we start to form some suspicions, though we’re made to wait a while to find out if we’ve guessed correctly or not.

This is a very disturbing and unsettling book with its portrayal of the claustrophobic world behind the locked doors of the Blackwoods’ house and the cruel, hostile atmosphere of the town outside. Some of the sense of unease comes from the fact that the book is narrated by Merricat, who clearly lives in a world governed by her own rules and superstitions. The reader becomes trapped inside her mind and is made to share her unusual outlook on life. And yet although there’s something slightly sinister about her, Merricat is also very child-like and both she and Constance have a vulnerability that made me concerned for them, locked away in the isolation of their ‘castle’.

The ending was not quite what I had expected and I was left with questions that still hadn’t been answered, but having thought about it, maybe it was a suitable ending for such a strange and powerful book. This was my first experience of Shirley Jackson’s work and now I’m looking forward to reading The Haunting of Hill House.

A Red Herring without Mustard by Alan Bradley

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A Red Herring without Mustard is the third book in Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce mystery series. I loved the first two books in the series (The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie and The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag) and I was pleased to find that this one is as good as the others.

A Red Herring without Mustard, like the previous books in the series, is set in 1950s England, in the village of Bishop’s Lacey. Flavia de Luce is an eleven-year-old girl who lives with her father and sisters on their family estate, Buckshaw. Flavia has a passion for chemistry and a talent for solving murder mysteries, despite the attempts of Inspector Hewitt to stop her becoming involved. Away from her detective work, Flavia enjoys riding her trusty bicycle, Gladys, spending time in her chemical laboratory and thinking up ways to get revenge on her two sisters, Ophelia and Daphne, who are forever torturing her.

In this book a gypsy woman, Fenella Faa, is brutally attacked while camping in The Palings, part of the de Luce estate. As Flavia begins to investigate the assault, a bizarre murder takes place in the grounds of Buckshaw. The two must be connected, but how? And why is there always a smell of fish at the scene of the crime?

I thought the mystery in this book was slightly more complex than the previous ones, but for me, the real charm of this book (and the series as a whole) is not the mystery plot but the character of Flavia herself and her interactions with the people around her. In this third instalment of the series there’s a lot of focus on Flavia’s family history and in particular, the story of her mother, Harriet, who died when Flavia was younger. I enjoyed learning more about the de Luce family and it seemed that there was some development with not only Flavia’s character but also of her father and sisters, Feely and Daffy. I would like to know exactly why Feely and Daffy are both so horrible to Flavia though, and I’m hoping their relationship will improve by the end of the series!

As well as Flavia’s family, there are a large number of other recurring characters who we meet again in this book including the de Luce servants, Mrs Mullet and Dogger. We are also introduced to a new character, Fenella’s granddaughter, Porcelain Lee. I don’t know if Porcelain will appear in any future books but I hope she does as I would like Flavia to have a friend.

The other thing I love about this series is the old-fashioned feel and the setting of Bishop’s Lacey, a small village community where everybody knows everybody else. It was also interesting to explore some of the hidden corners of Buckshaw, Flavia’s home.

If you’re new to Flavia de Luce, you could probably start reading at any point in the series but I would recommend beginning with the first one and reading them in order. If you’ve enjoyed either or both of the previous novels there’s a good chance that you’ll like this one too as it’s really very similar. And the good news for Flavia fans is that the fourth book, I am Half-Sick of Shadows is out now!

The Land of Green Ginger by Winifred Holtby

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The Land of Green Ginger is the second Winifred Holtby book I’ve read, the first being South Riding, which I read (and loved) in February. This one was published a few years earlier than South Riding, in 1927.

It’s the story of a missionary’s daughter, Joanna Burton, who is born in South Africa but raised in England by her aunts. As a young woman, Joanna is a lively, high-spirited person who dreams of travelling and visiting faraway lands. Then during the First World War she falls in love with Teddy Leigh, a young man on his way to fight in the trenches in France, and they get married.

When Teddy returns from the war to their home in Yorkshire, he is in poor health and Joanna finds herself caring for an invalid husband, managing a farm, and trying to look after their two small children, Patricia and Pamela. Life is hard for Joanna and the only person she can rely on for help is their Hungarian lodger, Paul Szermai. But Joanna has never been popular with the neighbours and when people begin to gossip about her relationship with Szermai, things become even more challenging for the Leigh family.

There are some interesting subplots too, including the tale Paul Szermai shares with Joanna of his life in Hungary and other parts of Europe and how it was affected by war and communism. We also see the attitudes of the local people to the group of immigrant workers who have been employed in Joanna’s village and for whom Szermai is acting as interpreter. Holtby does a good job of portraying a small rural community who are suspicious of outsiders and of anything that might change their way of life.

Although I found Paul Szermai and Teddy Leigh difficult to like, Holtby still managed to make me feel some sympathy for all of her main characters: Szermai, because of his tragic history; Teddy, frustrated by the sickness that is keeping him confined to his bed; and of course, Joanna who has had to abandon all her earlier dreams and ambitions, yet still shows a lot of naivety and innocence. Joanna seems to be unaware of how she is perceived by other people and as a result she never quite manages to fit into life in a small village where everybody knows everybody else’s business.

So The Land of Green Ginger is a dark and emotional book, but the ending leaves us feeling more hopeful. It doesn’t have the same depth and scope as South Riding, but I really like Winifred Holtby’s writing and this is still a compelling story. And finally, I want to mention how much I love the covers of the new Virago editions of Holtby’s books!

The Secrets Between Us by Louise Douglas

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Suffering from the trauma of a stillborn baby and the end of her relationship with her boyfriend, Sarah agrees to accompany her sister and brother-in-law to Sicily for a holiday. Here she meets Alexander and his six-year-old son, Jamie, who are having problems of their own: Alexander’s wife, Genevieve, has left him and disappeared without trace. When Alex offers Sarah a job as housekeeper at his home in England, she agrees. Despite her family’s concerns, Sarah thinks it’s the right decision: she’s attracted to Alex, adores his little boy, and is desperate to make a fresh start and move on with her life.

But after joining Alex and Jamie at Avalon, their home in the village of Burrington Stoke in Somerset, Sarah begins to wonder exactly what happened to Genevieve. The missing woman’s family are convinced Alex knows more about the disappearance than he’s admitting to, but Sarah knows that can’t be true…or can it?

The Secrets Between Us was my final choice for the Transworld Book Group. Louise Douglas is not an author I’ve ever read before, so I didn’t know what to expect from this book, but I was immediately drawn to it when I saw that it had been compared to Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, one of my favourite books. And there are definitely some similarities. Genevieve, like Rebecca, is described as beautiful, popular, talented and loved by everyone who knew her – and although she’s not there physically, she’s still a very strong presence and always at the heart of the story. The two books also share a gothic atmosphere and a sense of uneasiness and foreboding.

But this is also an excellent book in its own right. The author expertly keeps us guessing right to the end by adding some unexpected plot twists and ensuring that we can never be quite certain whether Alexander can be trusted or not. It’s also possible that Sarah, as the narrator, may not always be completely reliable. Some very strange and spooky things happen at Avalon and we are made to wonder whether they have supernatural causes or whether Sarah’s emotional state is making her see things that aren’t really there.

I did find it hard to believe that Sarah would agree to move in with a man she’d only met on a couple of brief occasions in Sicily, but at least this meant we were thrown into the action almost immediately, with only a short build-up. And Sarah is a narrator who is easy to like and to have sympathy for. I could really feel her fear and confusion as more and more facts about Genevieve were revealed, and her sense of growing isolation as the people of Burrington Stoke turned against her, believing that she and Alexander were trying to cover up the truth about Genevieve’s disappearance.

The Secrets Between Us is an excellent psychological thriller, with just the right amount of tension and suspense. Although Louise Douglas’ previous novels sound very different to this one, I really liked her writing and would be happy to try her other books at some point too.

I received a copy of this book from Transworld for review.

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux

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Gaston Leroux’s novel The Phantom of the Opera has been adapted for stage and screen so many times, many of us will be familiar with the story without ever having read the book. But whether you’ve seen any of the adaptations or not, you can expect the novel to be different in many ways and it’s an entertaining read in its own right. Although I won’t be adding it to my list of all-time favourite classics, I did enjoy it and had fun reading it.

The novel was first published in English in 1911, having previously been serialised in a French newspaper during 1909 and 1910. For those of you who don’t know the plot, the story takes place in the Paris Opera House, which is apparently haunted by a ghost. When Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny, falls in love with Christine Daaé, a singer at the Opera House, he discovers that he has a rival for Christine’s love: the Opera Ghost himself.

In the prologue, Leroux tells us that this is a true story and that he has carried out extensive research, interviewing some of the characters and studying the archives of the National Academy of Music.

The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.

But whether or not you believe that the ghost was real, the opera house was definitely based on a real place, designed by the architect Charles Garnier in the 1860s. Almost the entire story is set inside the opera house, which becomes a whole world in itself complete with an underground lake, a maze of tunnels and even a torture chamber. It was a fascinating setting to read about and in a way, the building is the most important character in the book, providing a lot of the novel’s atmosphere and suspense.

Although the book is presented as if it was a factual account, the writing is never dry. In fact, it’s the opposite: it’s filled with passion and emotion. It’s also very melodramatic and over the top, which made it quite funny at times (though I wasn’t always sure if it was supposed to be!) but what the book lacks in quality of prose is made up for in the storytelling and exciting plot. I didn’t love The Phantom of the Opera, but it kept me entertained and I’m glad to have finally read it.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

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I don’t usually pay much attention to hype, but I found I couldn’t ignore The Night Circus any longer. Judging by the number of glowing reviews this book has attracted, it has lived up to the hype for most people, but for me, although I did like it – loved it at times – I wasn’t quite as swept away by it as I had hoped to be. I’ll start by telling you what I loved about it and will then try to explain why not everything worked for me.

The Night Circus tells the story of Celia and Marco, two young magicians who have been selected by their mentors to take part in a very special contest. The rules of the competition are shrouded in mystery and even the two illusionists themselves aren’t sure what they have to do to win. And the venue for this magical battle? Le Cirque des Rêves, or the Circus of Dreams, one of the strongest, most vivid fictional worlds I’ve ever come across in a novel.

“The circus arrives without warning”, as we are told in the opening line of the novel. As it moves from town to town, it appears overnight and is “simply there, when yesterday it was not”. It really sounds amazing, more like a theme park than a traditional circus, and all the descriptions made me feel sorry that it doesn’t really exist! I know I’m not the only person who will have read this book wishing that they could visit the circus too and spend the night wandering from tent to tent, marvelling at all the spectacular attractions and performances. The setting is complemented with an authentic circus atmosphere complete with the smells of bonfire smoke and caramel, the taste of mulled cider, and a special black and white colour scheme. So much thought has gone into making the setting come to life, right down to the tiniest detail. What a great imagination Erin Morgenstern must have!

As it grows in popularity, the circus attracts a large group of followers who form a kind of fan club, calling themselves ‘rêveurs’. As we read the book we are encouraged to become rêveurs ourselves via a number of special chapters written in the second person, designed to make the reader feel they are actually there, inside the circus. I thought this aspect of the book was very effective and possibly the best use of second person narrative I’ve seen.

For me though, this book was all about the tone, the atmosphere and the descriptions of the circus, and there wasn’t much else beyond that. Outside the world of the circus there was no sense of time or place: the book is set in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but it didn’t feel that way to me and I didn’t really notice anything to set the book in its time period. Maybe it was kept deliberately timeless – I don’t know, but I thought this was slightly disappointing as I do love a Victorian/turn of the century setting. The story develops slowly (sometimes too slowly for me), keeping the reader wondering about the true nature of the contest and what the outcome will be, but when I reached the end of the book I still wasn’t completely sure exactly what the point of the contest had been. Too many of my questions were left unanswered.

The biggest problem I had with this book, though, was the characters. When I think about my favourite books, the ones that I really loved and have kept on my shelves to read over and over again, they are the ones with strong characters, characters I can form an emotional connection with, who I can care about and understand. And that’s why, although I did like The Night Circus, I couldn’t love it. I didn’t think there was enough depth to the characters and even Celia and Marco never felt like real, fully developed people to me. Rather than being able to get inside their heads I felt I was watching them from a distance, though maybe the fact that most of the book was written in the third person present tense contributed to this. I did still enjoy this book and loved that wonderful circus setting, but if only the characters had been stronger it might have been one of my books of the year.

Classics Circuit: A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe

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A Sicilian Romance is a gothic novel first published more than two hundred years ago, in 1790. Set in the late sixteenth century, it’s the story of two sisters, Julia and Emilia, the daughters of the fifth marquis of Mazzini. After the death of the girls’ mother, the marquis marries again and as his second wife prefers to spend her time in Naples, he leaves his daughters living alone in his ancient castle in Sicily with only the servants for company. When their father returns to the island and informs Julia that he has arranged a marriage for her, she rebels against his choice of husband, putting her life in danger. Meanwhile several of the castle’s inhabitants report hearing strange noises and seeing mysterious lights shining in an abandoned part of the building. Is the castle haunted?

This is not the first Ann Radcliffe novel I’ve read; I had previously enjoyed both The Mysteries of Udolpho and The Italian, so when I saw that the theme of the latest Classics Circuit tour was the early gothic novel, I decided to try another Radcliffe book. This one was shorter and less satisfying than the other two I’ve read, but in a lot of ways it was very similar. All of her books are perfect examples of gothic literature and have everything you would expect from a gothic novel: An old castle with crumbling staircases and dark, dusty chambers, locked doors, family secrets, lonely monasteries, bandits, shipwrecks, dungeons and underground tunnels, thunder and lightning, and almost anything else you can think of.

I’ve found that reading early gothic novels requires a different approach to normal. You need to be prepared for lots of melodrama and it’s necessary to completely suspend disbelief because in reality nobody would ever find themselves in the situations Radcliffe’s characters find themselves in. I hope not anyway! The characters also tend not to be as well developed as you would expect in a more modern novel and are usually portrayed as either completely good or completely evil. A Sicilian Romance features two beautiful heroines, a brave, handsome nobleman, and a wicked stepmother, among other stereotypes. The storyline is predictable and relies heavily on coincidences, last-minute escapes and other typical plot devices found in this type of book. It’s almost impossible to take these books seriously, but if you can accept them for what they are, they can be fun to read.

I should also mention that there are some beautifully written descriptions of the Sicilian scenery (although there’s not as much descriptive writing as in The Mysteries of Udolpho, which made this book easier to read and much faster-paced). I enjoyed this book but I think The Italian is still my favourite Radcliffe novel.

Visit the Classics Circuit blog to discover more early gothic literature.