It reminds me of the Mara Dyer series. You don't know what's going on because the main character/narrator cannot be trusted/don't know what's going onIt reminds me of the Mara Dyer series. You don't know what's going on because the main character/narrator cannot be trusted/don't know what's going on either. I think this is the kind of book you love, or you hate, nothing in between.
I went through many reviews of this novel. There were several things that were driving the readers crazy. My point? I loved them. But I also understand why you may have hated this book.
1) The writing is sometimes... not that usual.
I plunge down, down to rocky rocky bottom, and I can see the base of Beechwood Island and my arms and legs feel numb but my fingers are cold. Slices of seaweed go past as I fall. And then I am up again, and breathing. I’m okay, my head is okay, no one needs to cry for me or worry about me. I am fine, I am alive. I swim to shore.
More like a poem than a novel. And I understand, it is not for everyone.
2) The way she's describing her feelings. I admit it's sort of confusing, for a while and then it's just beautiful. “Then he pulled out a handgun and shot me in the chest. I was standing on the lawn and I fell. The bullet hole opened wide and my heart rolled out of my rib cage and down into a flower bed. Blood gushed rhythmically from my open wound, then from my eyes, my ears, my mouth. It tasted like salt and failure. The bright red shame of being unloved soaked the grass in front of our house, the bricks of the path, the steps of the porch. My heart spasmed among the peonies like a trout.”
Hey! At first, I thought that he really shot her! I was like, wait, why is he not in prison?
Also, she uses colours and a lot of strange adjectives to describe feelings/situation etc. It's different, and I love it! And again, it is not for everyone.
3) There is a lot of weird "pictures" that as well describe the situation. A witch has been standing there behind me for some time, waiting for a moment of weakness. She holds an ivory statue of a goose. It is intricately carved. I turn and admire it only for a moment before she swings it with shocking force. It connects, crushing a hole in my forehead. I can feel my bone come loose. The witch swings the statue again and hits above my right ear, smashing my skull. Blow after blow she lands, until tiny flakes of bone litter the bed and mingle with chipped bits of her once-beautiful goose.
It might be weird and strange, but I again loved it. She didn't just state that she had an awful migraine she draws it. Is it called a metaphor in this case? Or is it a personification of her migraine?
+) I think that some people were bored with the "fairy tales" she used to describe her situation differently. And again it worked for me. It was easier to imagine, to see.
This book is not perfect; characters are imperfect. They may be spoiled, racist, self-righteous, cold, manipulative... They were human. Imperfect ones, pretending to be perfect.
And the ending? It was amazing, sad and amazing again. It was a shock but not a surprise. You slowly get a feeling that this is maybe what is going on.
So, if you are one of the people who hated this book, I want to tell you, I understand why. If you are someone who loved it, I'm here, absolutely excited and I want to talk to you about the book!...more
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