Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Flowers in the Attic Review
Love. How often that word came up in books. Over and over again. If you had wealth and health, and beauty and talent . . . you had nothing if you didn’t have love. Love changed all that was ordinary into something giddy, powerful, drunken, enchanted.
Of course, this isn’t a story about love. Far from it . . .
Cathy and her three siblings; Christopher, Cory, and Carrie; grew several years in a normal, middle-class family. However, after they lost their father from an accident, all of the responsibility had to be left to their “dear” mother. As a woman who depended on her husband, ignorant to the harsh realities of life, their mother decided to take them to her parents’ house. This wasn’t just any house, though. It was more of a modern palace: a mansion. But why hadn’t she told them this before? Why did they have to live in an underwhelming house when she had all the luxury? All these were explained as soon as the children had been brought to the attic on one evening, where they had been reasoned that they would only stay for a night — or a couple. Naively, the kids agreed, knowing just a few nights would justify all the riches they would have in the future. But how is trust reasonable when they knew that they would be locked up in the attic in the first place?
Flowers in the Attic was, in one word, haunting. It was a mix of everything: innocence, grief, hatred, greed, maturity, adolescence, and, of course, lust. The story progressed slowly, giving its readers a realistic perspective of how maturity can come with doubt, indifference with greed, and affection intimacy. Who could blame them, anyway? Locked away in the attic, the two oldest siblings, Chris and Cathy, had to act as parents for the young twins, Cory and Carrie. All the while, they did what they had to to keep them distracted — from decorating the attic to exploring new hobbies. But that wasn’t everything.
Aside from its gradual, thrilling progression, Flowers in the Attic was a win because of our narrator — Cathy. She may be annoying, but her menacingly pessimistic view sets the general mood of the book. I wouldn’t say it’s a horror, nor a thriller, but rather a mature young adult that exhibits emotion and narrative, like a classic tale. Because Andrews was a natural story teller, each chapter was exceptionally written in great detail. Amazingly, Andrews managed to keep me enticed through vivid imagery, intensity, longing, and the desire to know what happens to children left in a peculiar situation. But emotion surpassed all. Andrews’ characters delivered such emotion that can be felt with meticulous dialogue. Readers could feel giddy with Carrie’s chatter, compassionate with Cory’s pleas, inspired with Chris’ optimism, and ruthless with Cathy’s straightforward words.
As a reviewer, it bothers me to see only some flaws (or even none at all!) in the book, though maybe it’s only as exceptional as that. Granted, this book is not for anyone, but definitely worth the read.
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