Review: My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier

In my defence, I bought this in 2013 and obviously not because of any current Rachel Weisz-starring film. However, to my detriment, I will admit that the aforementioned film is pretty much entirely the reason I'm reading it now.

Plot summary: Orphaned at an early age, Philip Ashley is raised by his benevolent older cousin, Ambrose. Resolutely single, Ambrose delights in Philip as his heir, a man who will love his grand home as much as he does himself. But the cosy world the two construct is shattered when Ambrose sets off on a trip to Florence. There he falls in love and marries - and there he dies suddenly. 

Jealous of his marriage, racked by suspicion at the hints in Ambrose's letters, and grief-stricken by his death, Philip prepares to meet his cousin's widow with hatred in his heart. Despite himself, Philip is drawn to this beautiful, sophisticated, mysterious Rachel like a moth to the flame. And yet... might she have had a hand in Ambrose's death?

I've had My Cousin Rachel summed up to me by numerous friends as 'Like Rebecca, but not as good.' Luckily, it's been years since I've read Rebecca so I wasn't able to compare the two. Whilst I recognise that the tone and prose are very similar, I can't help thinking that My Cousin Rachel might actually be, you know... better?

I LOVED this book. I've heard complaints that it's very slow moving and I suppose it is, but it's almost purposeful. You can't pick up a du Maurier and expect constant action, violence and scenes of a sexual nature. It's slow, I suppose, but it has to be, and the pages flew past me regardless. The beauty lies in the gradual layering of information and context, each page adding a new shadow and new depth to your perception of the characters.

That's the key to My Cousin Rachel, the characters. Even more so than Rebecca, the plot relies completely on two people, Philip and Rachel. I have never seen such perfectly nuanced characters in the whole of fiction. I feel as if I have known these two people for always - I've been so engrossed in their world and in their minds that I swear I have relatives I don't know this well.

The importance is the interpretation, however. The most obvious question that arises throughout the book is 'Did Rachel kill her husband?' We know that, that's fine (although presumably not for Ambrose). But there are so many other questions as well - Is Philip a reliable narrator? Has he been swayed by his feelings? Was it Rachel's fault or unavoidable? Was the ending intentional? None of these questions are resolved by the narrative and they've been driving me mad ever since.

It could go so many different ways depending on your interpretation of the novel, and for this reason I think it might be more masterful even than Rebecca. I love that book, don't get me wrong, but it's pretty clear cut what happened by the end. Not so much here. I discussed it with the one other person I knew who had read it, and naturally she'd understood it completely differently to me (although this is the person with whom I nearly came to blows over We Need To Talk About Kevin) so we don't trust her view entirely ;)

One interpretation (which I admit didn't occur to me as I was reading) is that My Cousin Rachel is a feminist masterpiece, a pre-emptive strike against the sexist notion of friend-zoning. Rachel did nothing wrong - you only see her through the eyes of Philip, who comes to resent her beauty and charm, and her lack of willingness to marry him. I'm not so sure of this concept, but it highlights the many, many different lights in which this book can be viewed.

I do know that Philip Ashley needs a shake. He infuriated me. Don't get me wrong, he was perfectly crafted, but he was such a naive, wet, sulking little brat.I appreciated the masterful way in which he was written, but that appreciation didn't stop me from simultaneously wanting to throttle him.

Please read this. I don't care if you've read Rebecca or seen the Rachel Weisz film, or you're allergic to authors called Daphne. Go away and read this, and then come back immediately and talk to me about it.

What do you think? Was Rachel guilty?   

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

I added this to my wishlist right after finishing The Haunting of Hill House earlier this year. I'd link you to a review, but like almost every other book I've read this year, I didn't write one. I chose to learn Russian instead. Yes, I am also a little confused as to why. Anyway, I knew I wanted to read every book she had ever written, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the author's most famous work. I now completely understand why and I'm in total agreement. It's amazing and I want to lick it.

Plot summary: Living in the Blackwood family home with only her sister Constance and her Uncle Julian for company, Merricat just wants to preserve their delicate way of life. But ever since Constance was acquitted of murdering the rest of the family, the world isn't leaving the Blackwoods alone. And when Cousin Charles arrives, armed with overtures of friendship and a desperate need to get into the safe, Merricat must do everything in her power to protect the remaining family. 

I was absolutely hooked by the end of the first page. It's narrated by Merricat, or Mary Katherine Blackwood, in a very formal yet oddly chatty tone. She lives with her sister, who was formerly on trial for poisoning the rest of their family, and their Uncle Julian, who somehow managed to survive the whole thing. It's one of those books where the truth is finally unearthed with little hints here and there, dotted in and amongst the narrative of their daily lives.

The trial and the murder aren't the focus of We Have Always Lived in the Castle though, not really. It's more of a background feature to explain why the two women live alone and why the village dislikes their presence to such a vehement extent. The subtlety of it makes it all the more fascinating. The main plot revolves around their Cousin Charles, who suddenly rolls up one day and begins what Merricat refers to as The Change.

As with most of Shirley Jackson's books (from the two I've read and what I've heard of the others), there's a very Gothic, mysterious atmosphere that seems to creep from the very pages. Merricat likes to hide little treasures in the ground of their property, as apparently this will create some kind of ward to protect her and Constance from the outside world. She never quite comes out and says that she believes she has magical powers, but the implication is very much there. 

My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in my family is dead.

There's also a mental illness theme that runs through this book. It seems to be a trademark of Shirley Jackson's to keep the reader on their toes - half the time you're not sure whether the characters have psychological issues or there really is something worrying going on. Aside from Uncle Julian's obvious difficulties, both Constance and Merricat have been affected by the trial and the death of their family, and it shows in their actions. Both are agoraphobic, although to different extents, and both are stuck in the mindset they carried during That Time six years previously. It's very cleverly written. 

I don't feel like this review is really doing any justice at all to the book. It's hard to capture the subtlety and the atmosphere of this book, that is just written so beautifully. Even the ending is perfect, in a lot of different ways. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since I turned the last page and I would be very surprised if this book didn't make my Top Ten Books of 2015 list. 

Read Laura's review of The Haunting of Hill House at Devouring Texts.

Review: The Three by Sarah Lotz

Hmm. I really didn't notice the creepy-ass children staring out at me from this book cover when I was reading it. I feel like I may have transferred to my dusty and neglected Kindle if I had... *shudders*

Plot summary:
They're here ... The boy. The boy watch the boy watch the dead people oh Lordy there's so many ... They're coming for me now. We're all going soon. All of us. Pastor Len warn them that the boy he's not to­­--
The last words of Pamela May Donald (1961 - 2012)

Black Thursday. The day that will never be forgotten. The day that four passenger planes crash, at almost exactly the same moment, at four different points around the globe.

There are only four survivors. Three are children, who emerge from the wreckage seemingly unhurt. But they are not unchanged. And the fourth is Pamela May Donald, who lives just long enough to record a voice message on her phone. A message that will change the world.

The message is a warning.

I went into this book not really knowing too much about it, and I honestly think that's the best way with a book like this one. I'd completely forgotten the subject of The Three between Katie buying it for my birthday in August and actually beginning to read it in March this year (believe it or not, that's actually quite a quick turnaround), so I decided not to bother reading the blurb and just run with it. I started to read it on the train on the way to work... four pages in I was hooked and couldn't wait until lunchtime when I could read some more.

There are a lot of different aspects to this story. Each of the four survivors have families who react in different ways, not to mention the media, the religious groups, the bereaved and a multitude of other groups. It's a very emotional book - emotion-provoking, I mean. You'd assume that I mean the generic descriptions of what it's like to lose a loved one, but that's absolutely not what I'm talking about. Sarah Lotz really does get inside her characters heads perfectly.

I've read different reviews of this book, and different aspects seem to affect different readers. I found the Doomsday Cult portion absolutely fascinating and I'd have been happy with a whole book about how religious factions can become over-zealous in reaction to certail events. That said, I really fervently disliked Chiyoko, or whatever her name is. She was a little too cliched and OTT to be believable and I found her chapters really halted the flow of my reading. So it's not perfect, but it is pretty damn good.

I'm not usually a fan of the newspaper/interview style of writing (you know, like in World War Z) as I think it sometimes prevents you from becoming properly immersed in the story. It does seem to work here though, possibly because it hides what's really happening for just that little bit longer...

At the risk of sounding overly hipster again, I loved the whole meta book-within-a-book thing. It was really detailed and perfectly thought out - clearly a lot of effort had gone in to making it work. It's impressive. It even includes fore and afterwords from the fictional editor. It's worth reading just for that.

The ending wasn't amazing, I have to admit. I understand that it's meant to be open to your own interpretation, but it was almost a little too open. I'd like to have something to go on, some indication of what the author was trying to imply The Three were, as I'm not entirely sure.

I really would recommend The Three. It's dark, inventive and mysterious, although perhaps refrain from reading it during any kind of plane ride. Just saying.

Read Ellie's review of The Three here.

Review: Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin

You know how sometimes you think you know the gist of a classic (ish) book and then it turns out that actually you had no idea and you're sat there, blinking, and going "What? Really!?" That.

Plot summary: Rosemary Woodhouse and her struggling actor-husband, Guy, move into the Bramford, an old New York City apartment building with an ominous reputation and only elderly residents. Neighbours Roman and Minnie Castavet soon come nosing around to welcome them; despite Rosemary's reservations about their eccentricity and the weird noises that she keeps hearing, her husband starts spending time with them. Shortly after Guy lands a plum Broadway role, Rosemary becomes pregnant, and the Castavets start taking a special interest in her welfare. As the sickened Rosemary becomes increasingly isolated, she begins to suspect that the Castavets' circle is not what it seems.

I can't decide if what the book is actually about counts as a spoiler or not because, although it's fairly apparent not too far into the book, it isn't mentioned in the blurb, which is my rule of thumb for these kind of things. As such, I won't mention it although you probably already know and the cover gives a damn good indication anyway. 

Vague? Me? God forbid.

Anyway, I wouldn't class Rosemary's Baby as horror - it's less scary than the Goosebumps books I read when I was a child I heard about from the other children. Instead of being outright frightening, it fills you with an odd sense of unease about... something. This isn't getting any less vague, is it? Sorry. You know what's happening and you know the Castavets are just not quite right somehow, but there's something else that niggles at the back of your head and prevents you from properly relaxing even when you put the book down.

I read the second half of the book in a wide-eyed, tense huddle - the atmosphere of not-right-ness had seeped through the pages and invaded my very core. It's predictable and not even very unique, but it does make you panickingly question the trustworthiness of neighbours, babies and pregnancies in general.   

The writing style is very simple, which makes sense as Rosemary herself is very simple. Now, I know this book is 47 years old and times have changed blah blah blah. But even for almost five decades ago, Rosemary is weak. I did feel for her and I desperately wanted her to succeed, but she was just so passive. I don't mean this as a flaw of the book because that's just her character - some people are actually like that, after all. The simple writing style just does a good job of highlighting that.

If I had one complaint about Rosemary's Baby, it was the ending. I know a mother's love can overcome a lot of things and it's been the focus of many a story before this one, but come on. It doesn't say a whole lot about the author's views on women if he thinks their sense of logic and morals can be that easily overcome. Cheers for that.

I haven't read Stepford Wives yet, but I think I will be doing soon - I know more about it than I did Rosemary's Baby, but not enough to spoil it. I really would recommend that you read this one though - it's short, accessible and interestingly disturbing.

 Read Laura's review of Rosemary's Baby at Devouring Texts.

Review: 11.22.63 by Stephen King

You have no idea how much effort it is for myself and other British bloggers to type out that book title. It's painstakingly slow - 'One-One-Two... No, that can't be right. There is no 22nd month. Two-Two-One... Is that right? It must be. Oh wait, no. One-One...' I swear I'm going to start a damned petition to give this book a logical name.

Plot summary - WHAT IF you could go back in time and change the course of history? WHAT IF the watershed moment you could change was the JFK assassination? 11.22.63, the date that Kennedy was shot - unless . . .

King takes his protagonist Jake Epping, a high school English teacher from Lisbon Falls, Maine, 2011, on a fascinating journey back to 1958 - from a world of mobile phones and iPods to a new world of Elvis and JFK, of Plymouth Fury cars and Lindy Hopping, of a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald and a beautiful high school librarian named Sadie Dunhill, who becomes the love of Jake's life - a life that transgresses all the normal rules of time.

As the Lit Addicted Brit so famously (kind of) said - 'THIS is why I read!'

This book is amazing, and it broke me. There may as well be no other books. It's long and occasionally heavy, but it genuinely stopped being just a story for me. I cared more than was reasonable about all the characters and felt so tense over certain plot twists I could have been sick. This is a story about the assassination of John F. Kennedy. But not really. It's also a story of time travel, morality, romance, science fiction and friendship, with a little bit of creepiness thrown in for good measure. This is Stephen King, after all.

Being British, I had very little knowledge about Kennedy's assassination - the extent of my Presidential information tends to revolve around their vampire hunting skills. However, this is not a hindrance to 11.22.63 in the slightest. It doesn't presuppose you know anything at all, but judging by the amount of care and detail that has clearly gone into researching this book, you'll be an expert by the end.

That said, it's written very accessibly. It's definitely not for children (however much you may want them to learn their history), as some of the more violent scenes even made me feel ill. The tone is vaguely similar to The Gunslinger but as we all know how much I liked that (stop talking about your penis, Roland), it's fairly obvious the two aren't otherwise much alike. 

I actually wrote in my notes how it was less creepy than Stephen King's other books, but then I felt obliged to cross it out after a week of being convinced something was Watching Me from the darkness. It is creepy, but it's hard to ascertain why. It's certainly not meant to be a horror book; at face value it's merely a historical novel. There is something though - something that maybe means you turn the hallway light on instead of wandering down it alone at night. It still haunts me now, so there are definitely two levels to 11.22.63 - the basic time-travel story with a darker layer slipped underneath.

The ending broke my heart and mind into so many little tiny pieces that I could barely function. I just kind of... sat there for a very long time, contemplating how everything could have ended up the way it did. It's perfect and it fits the story, well, perfectly but oh how it hurt me! I hated it. Well, I didn't hate it; I understand it. But I kind of hate it.

I know this is a rambling (and probably useless for everybody who isn't me) review, but I have literally nothing bad to say about this book. Every word has a purpose and every character is historically and fictionally relevant. It would make a brilliant film and it's easily, easily the best book of 2012 at Booking in Heels.

Read my review of The Gunslinger or visit Stephen King's website.

 

Review: The Woman In Black by Susan Hill

I've wanted to re-read this ever since I first heard the film that's coming out, featuring Daniel Radcliffe as Arthur Kipps. I'll post a link to the trailer at the bottom, but it looks amazing. I'm not sure Mr Radcliffe will ever be anything but Harry Potter, but I guess we'll find out in early 2012. In the meantime, Hannah from Once Upon A Time was nice enough to send me a copy of the book after we had a lengthy discussion of the suitability of Mr Radcliffe.

Proud and solitary, Eel Marsh House surveys the windswept reaches of the salt marshes beyond Nine Lives Causeway. Arthur Kipps, a junior solicitor, is summonded to attend the funeral of Mrs Alice Drablow, the house's sole inhabitant, unaware of the tragic secrets which lie hidden behind the shuttered windows. It is not until he glimpses a wasted young woman, dressed all in black, at the funeral, that a creeping sense of unease begins to take hold, a feeling deepened by the reluctance of the locals to talk of the woman in black - and her terrible purpose. 

I really, really enjoyed this. I've got a thing for creepy, old-fashioned ghost stories - they're just so much more intense than more modern ones. Ms Hill is particularly skilled at creating atmosphere and describing the terror and anxiety Mr Kipp is feeling. I think that's what makes The Woman in Black so great - you can really feel how frightened Arthur is, and so it forces you to feel the same way.

I suppose it's fairly conventional in a way - residents of the local village that refuse to speak of the House and a small dog that snarls and barks when there's nothing there. But somehow, it's better than that. The ghost herself isn't your usual villain either. She's not evil exactly, just slightly creepy and sinister, but that only adds to the mystery and suspense really.

That said, I only 'liked' this book until the very end. After that, I loved it. I have read it before, but not in a number of years so I'd completely forgotten the ending. Without explaining further, just know it's one of the best endings to a novel I've ever read.

Looking at the trailer, they seem to have changed quite a few bits for the film- I don't really understand the presence of the children and they seem to have added more action. But then, I suppose you can't make a film out of Daniel Radcliffe just stood there looking scared a lot. It looks good though - I can't wait!

Review: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Apparently I'm going through a 'creepy children with strange powers and an odd guardian' phase, although I have to say I preferred Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children than this. Still, I did really enjoy it, especially as I picked it up on a whim because Firth Park library is mainly aimed at old ladies. So once again, long train rides + nothing else to read = being forced to read a book I wouldn't have otherwise and really enjoying it. But then, has Neil Gaiman ever written a bad book?

Summary - 'When a baby escapes a murderer intent on killing the entire family, who would have thought it would find safety and security in the local graveyard? Brought up by the resident ghosts, ghouls and spectres, Bod has an eccentric childhood learning about life from the dead. But for Bod there is also the danger of the murderer still looking for him - after all, he is the last remaining member of the family. A stunningly original novel deftly constructed over eight chapters, featuring every second year of Bod's life, from babyhood to adolescence. Will Bod survive to be a man?'

There was quite a lot of hype around this when it first came out and I've seen a lot of reviews since, but I never really fancied it. I've read Stardust, Neverwhere and I adore Good Omens, but this seemed so different from his usual work that I barely even glanced at it. I think the fact that it's a children's book must have put me off. But hey, shoot me with the Snob Stick (one day I'll learn!) because it's actually very good.

It's definitely YA. The large print, illustrations and basic language attest to that. It doesn't lack anything for it though - I actually think it wouldn't have worked nearly as well if it tried to be adult. That's what's good about this book - it doesn't pretend to be anything it isn't. It reads as though Neil Gaiman had a really, really great time reading this book and that made me enjoy it all the more.

It has a fast-paced plot that's completely unique and a wealth of great characters that just aren't present in many YA books. The atmosphere of the graveyard was absolutely wonderful - each grave has its own epitaph and the inhabitants come from a wide range of historical situations. It reads different to his other books, which is a testament to his skill - it's not often an author can write in so many different 'voices.'

This is a ridiculously hard book to review, although I'm not sure why. I really enjoyed it and I'll definitely be purchasing my own copy but it doesn't seem like there's that much to say about it. It's not very deep or very long, but so what? It'd make a great film/movie and I'd be amazed if a producer somewhere hasn't already picked up on that.

You can listen to parts of it on Mr. Gaiman's website here, or read my review of Neverwhere.

Review: Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs OR The Addams Family Meets X-Men

This is one of those books that a review just can't do justice to. I've seen quite a few floating around now and none quite manage to capture the atmosphere and mystery of Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. Naturally I have to add in my two cents, but the book really does need to be seen to be understood.

Amazon: 'A mysterious island. An abandoned orphanage. And a strange collection of very curious photographs. It all waits to be discovered in "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children", an unforgettable novel that mixes fiction and photography in a thrilling reading experience. As our story opens, a horrific family tragedy sets sixteen-year-old Jacob journeying to a remote island off the coast of Wales, where he discovers the crumbling ruins of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. As Jacob explores its abandoned bedrooms and hallways, it becomes clear that the children who once lived here - one of whom was his own grandfather - were more than just peculiar. They may have been dangerous. They may have been quarantined on a desolate island for good reason. And somehow - impossible though it seems - they may still be alive.

The most interesting point of this book is the photographs. The text is interspersed with vintage-looking photos of the children that feature in the novel.. They're very, very creepy and add to the already creepy atmosphere. Sometimes I realised I had been closely examining a photo for the last ten minutes! See, I thought they were fantastic before I started to read the afterword, but it turns out that the photographs are real. Well, not actually real obviously, as children tend not to levitate. But they are authentic, vintage-found photos. Mr Riggs trailed through the archives of a ridiculous amount of photograph collectors to find images from freak shows from the early 1900s, and then based his characters on those people. Somehow that makes them seem even creepier to me.

It's clever how the photos aren't just shoved in there without a mention. Their insertion always co-incides with Jacob finding an old album or remembering a photograph his Grandpa showed him once, and it always describes the photo you're looking it. It really drags you in, like you're discovering the photo at the same time Jacob is.

It is a very creepy book, but you can tell that from looking at the cover with the levitating child. The beginning is especially atmospheric as Jake discovers what happened to his grandfather and examines the ancient orphanage. After that though, it kind of loses its edge a little and turns into a cross between the Addams Family and the X-Men. It's not as creepy or unique, but it still retains the fast-moving plot and interesting character so don't lose heart. Towards the end, it does recapture the creepiness excellently, but the middle is a little twee.

I got really annoyed with Jacob at one point for refusing to believe that any of what he was seeing was real and chalking it all up to psychological problems. But then I remembered that my pet hate of supernatural books is the far too easy acceptance of teenagers of whatever ghost/vampire/magic creature happens to be staring them in the face. So I went back and reread those parts - and yes, actually - it's exactly how any normal, non-fictional person would react to monsters i.e. being scared witless. It made me respect the character a hell of a lot more.

Pet hate #2 - the uncecessary shovelling in of pointless romance. Especially in this case, where it's gross and vaguely incestuous. Less please.

The imagery, however, is wonderful. The island, the village and the children are all perfectly described. I could happily have sat there and read the whole thing in one go - between the descriptions, atmosphere and fast-moving plot I was hard-pressed to put the damn thing down. Honestly though, it just wouldn't have been half as good without those photographs. It makes me wonder if it could actually stand on its own two feet as the images are the only thing that makes it unique.

It seems to be classed everywhere as a YA book, but it's a little too dark in my opinion. The again, it's a little too childish for the snobbier adults. It's a brilliant, brilliant book and I adored it, but I wouldn't give it to children.