Flowers in the Attic, part 10 - or "Puberty makes everything weird when you live in a shoebox"

The next chapter starts off with Cathy saying that for the next three months it was too cold to go up into the attic, so she and her siblings spent all their time in front of the TV their mother had given them. In a way this makes sense, but it's the 50's and there really weren't any good movies yet, so this sounds unbearable to me. (I hate the sound of the television, honestly. It just gets really grating after a while. This room would make me nuts)

From there, she could on to say that in April she'll be turning thirteen and the people on TV had warned them all what to expect in their awkward teen years.

She moves on to say that she's noticed Chris staring at her chest.

At least this is consistent with the last bit we read?

Chris also catches her in the bathroom pulling out armpit hairs with tweezers. First of all - OW

He tells her to stop fighting to look "childishly neat" and "start thinking of those hairs as sexy."

This is gonna be another chapter where I need to pause every few lines and question my life choices.
On the other side of the puberty argument, Chris starts having wet dreams, and when Cathy calls him out on it, tells her that her time for messing up beds is coming and their mother should get around to explaining all that to her.
Hey Chris, can you stop making everything you say sound misogynistic? Seriously, not only does he act all high-and-mighty because he knows something about his sister's body that she doesn't, but the way he phrases it is just so damn rude...

Again, I'm probably over thinking it, but something about this character makes my blood boil.

I hate the 50's.

Right after talking about the less savory aspects of the two of them going through puberty, she starts talking about the five year olds in the room.

Look, I don't know if VC Andrews was doing this kind of stuff on purpose or if she was just really bad at segueing to different subjects, but I'm noticing. And it's weird.

Carrie is apparently in the habit of talking to her dolls constantly as she plays with them, still always wanting to hear the sound of her own voice. Cory is perpetually building things with tinker toys and slamming them together to also make as much noise as possible. Paired with the TV being on all the time, Cathy has successfully described my personal Hell.

One day, as the beginning of the chapter hinted at, Corrine does come in with "a large package" (how big were pads in 1950? Did you really need a huge box for them?) and Chris takes the twins up to the attic so they don't have to hear about gross womanly things, and Cathy gets the period talk. Cathy is actually hoping that her mother explains love and sex to her as well, and is severely disappointed when she doesn't. That conversation is going to have to happen someday, Corrine, and your daughter is horny as Hell. You might as well get on with it.
Cathy gives her mom a polite "no thank you" and tries to explain that she's not planning to have kids so she doesn't need to know any of this. Corrine clearly neglected to mention that this happens whether you like it or not. She also, when Cathy asks if it hurts, says there is "a little crampy pain" and as someone who has passed out several times due to that "little crampy pain" I would like to give her a hearty:

I really don't know why this chapter is hitting so many of my berserk buttons today, but man, is it ever.

Cathy tries to argue again and Corrine asks if she wants to be a child forever. Cathy has a bit of a crisis over that, because while she wants to be a woman, she doesn't really like all the "messiness" that comes with it.

" 'And Cathy, please don't be ashamed, or embarrassed, or dread a little discomfort, and the trouble - having babies is babies is very rewarding.'"

Big talk coming from a woman who locked her kids in one room to keep them from ruining her evil schemes to inherit an obscene fortune.


"' Someday you'll fall in love and marry and you'll want to give your husband children - if you love him enough.'" 

...

 Wow there's a lot to unpack there, isn't it? First of all, fuck this woman. Second of all, fuck the 1950's and the goddamn mindset that still hangs around to this goddamn day.

Third of all, did Corrine kind of just admit that she had her kids because her husband wanted them? Nothing in that inspirational bit of rhetoric of hers said anything about if the woman wants kids. She basically just said that "if you don't give your husband children when he wants them, you don't love him enough."

I.... I gotta sit down after that one.

Never in my life have I been happier to be a demisexual lesbian with a deep aversion to the very idea of pregnancy.

 Cathy asks what kind of painful indignities Chris will have to go through to become a man and is very disappointed that there really isn't. So am I, Cathy. Corrine also adds that Cathy shouldn't be afraid if her period starts out of nowhere like when she's asleep or dancing, and says that her own mother told her absolutely nothing about any of this and I need to put this here:

Despite the subject matter, Cathy is actually very grateful for such a warm and open moment with her mom, since it's not only been a long time since she's visited, but also since she'd felt really invested in her children. However, as soon as Chris and the twins come back downstairs, that gap between them reappears as Corrine only seems to give any kind of affection to Chris (ignoring the twins entirely) and Cathy is left feeling very empty. The twins climb into her lap and she acts as a mother to them instead, feeling that they haven't changed at all in all the time they'd been in that room.

"As Chris and I moved on into puberty, the twins stagnated, went nowhere."

This is a really heavy chapter once you get down to the meat of it.



After a page break, Cathy talks about birthdays coming and going, most notably the twin's sixth birthdays where Cory gets a bunch of instruments that he can play instantly and already make up full songs. Okay, this kid is a prodigy. If you're worried about money, why not let the kids out of the attic and take that one on tour?
Corrine notes that Cory must have gotten his musical talent from her own brothers who died an icy death in a deep frozen chasm and/or dangerous mountain pass.
Think I'm joking? Check this shit out:

" '...Both of my brothers were musicians...[her brother Mal] would escape the life he hated by riding up into the mountains on his motorcycle. ...One day he took a curve too fast in the rain. He careened off the road and crashed down hundreds of feet into a chasm.' " 

" [Her younger brother Joel] had been killed in a skiing accident in Switzerland. ...He had fallen into some deep ravine filled with snow, and to this day we never found his body." 

No one can just die in this book, huh?

Also remember that bit about her brother's body never being found. I swear to God, it comes back later.


With that happy bit of information in hand, Chris and Cathy go up to the attic to try and teach the twins to read and write. It goes about as well as can be expected, but at least it gives them all something else to do.


With summer coming, they start spending more time laying around in the attic on an old mattress in front of the window trying to catch any kind of a breeze. They have a chat about nudity being or not being sinful and about the human body (Cathy mentions she's on her period and wants to know if that grosses Chris out) and I can't really find any reason it's particularly relevant to what's happening because next they wonder about why their mother keeps them locked up. This is something that could have and should have been touched upon much sooner than this.
Cathy suspects that Chris loves their mother too much to see any flaws in what she's doing and he even admits that out loud.

The chapter - and the first section of the book - ends with Corrine reporting that her father does seem to be getting worse and it shouldn't be much longer. Cathy goes to their big wall calendar and crosses off the day.

They've been in the attic for a full year. Two more to go!



And we are officially done with Part One!

I promise part two has (a little bit) more going on!

But that's next time

Flowers in the Attic, part 9 - or "Oedipus is lucky he can't read any of this"

Hey, trying to do this more frequently so I don't lose focus on this goddamn book.

Last chapter, we saw the elaborate Christmas party Corrine's parents throw every year and Cathy and Chris got to hide in a cupboard and spy on part of it.

Then Chris gets the brilliant idea to go sneak around the house while their door is unlocked.

Okay off we go then.


We see the repercussions of this choice immediately, as Cathy is woken up by her mother shaking the bejesus out of her while she's sleeping and yelling in her face. Corrine demands to know where Chris is, because - of course - it's been hours and he's still not back in the room yet. Cathy doesn't know what to say and is pretty much just cowering on her bed. She finally answers, trusting that she can tell her mother the truth. It doesn't go well and Corrine starts pacing and says "Damn" a bunch of times.

 - side note: do people actually say "Damn, damn, damn!" when they're upset?

Corrine says she'll never let either of them out of that room ever again no matter the circumstances, which I'm sure is exactly what Cathy wants to hear.

' "You both gave me your word-and you broke it! How can I trust either one of you now? And I thought I could. I thought you loved me, that you would never betray me!" '

Alright, I don't normally make jokes like this - but this woman needs to get on some fucking lithium and get on it now. I guess we see where her daughters picked up the habit of going from zero to sixty in three seconds flat.

As anticipated, Cathy's not crazy about her mother confirming that she's going to keep them locked in one bedroom for the rest of their lives. When Corrine turns to storm out of the room like a Disney villain, Cathy talks more about her dress and points out that Corrine's perfume smells too nice and doesn't match her bad mood. I'm paraphrasing but that's what she said. I don't get it either.

Chris comes back right as Corrine is about to leave and as soon as she sees him, it's his turn to get the bejesus smacked out of him.

It's super effective! 

After quite literally slapping him twice, hard enough to leave red marks on both sides of his face (and I just remembered that Corrine's wearing a bunch of diamond rings - the fuck, lady!) Corrine threatens that if he ever does this again she'll whip not only him, but also throw Cathy in there for good measure.
Hey Corrine, you're starting to act like your parents.
Are you okay with that?

She snaps out of it a second later and starts frantically apologizing to Chris and hugging and kissing him, probably because she knows if Chris isn't on her side, she's fucked.

'Kiss, kiss, kiss, finger his hair, stroke his cheek, draw his head against her soft, swelling breasts, and let him drown in the sensuality of being cuddled close to that creamy flesh that must excite even a youth of his tender years.' 

First of all, I hate that this is all one sentence.

Second of all, that is a sentence written from the POV of a twelve year old describing her mother's interactions with her older brother.

Please, please tell me I don't have to explain why I want to throw up every time I have to read this passage.

Corrine apologies, claiming that she's not herself because everything's going her way. This really just makes me wonder why these kids never noticed that their mother is a harpy - but I digress.

She kisses him on the mouth and hugs him some more and asks if the two of them will forgive her. Honestly, she's kind of the one keeping them alive, so it's not like they have a real choice. Instead of thinking about that, Cathy realizes she has "... never felt her cheek against the softness of [Corrine's] breast."

Can you both stop being horny for your mom for at least half a freaking page?

So Chris and Cathy both forgive Corrine because - again- what other option have they got? Once she leaves, Cathy asks about everything Chris saw when he explored the house.

He talks a lot about how beautiful it is and the room full of hunting trophies and a painting of their Grandfather when he was younger, saying the name "Malcom Neal Foxworth" again - and I hate that name more than anything after reading the third book in this series, so typing that actually made me cringe.

Cathy makes him get to the good part and Chris talks about spying on their mother and her sentient mustache, Bart Winslow making out and flirting. Creeping around in the hallway and digressing about wanting to try on a suit of armor, Chris overheard Winslow asking to see "The Swan Bed"

Probably something like this? Both movie adaptations have gotten this wrong, so don't trust either of them.

Not to be confused with the Phantom of the Opera Turkey Bed

Try and tell me it's not a turkey - I dare you!

Apparently Corrine's grandmother (rumored to be a French courtesan, but we'll get to that in a minute) had this massive bed shaped like a swan, and Corrine had always begged to have her furniture. Corrine's father, figuring that she couldn't get any more corrupt than she already is, finally agreed to let her have it.  When asked about it, Corrine said that, of course, her Grandmother hadn't really been a courtesan, the bed of someone like that would have been "burned at night while prayers were said for its redemption." I can't make this shit up.

Chris describes Corrine's whole bedroom in agonizing detail - but I refuse to even bullet point that because it's way too long and I don't care. What we're meant to take away from it, however, is that Corrine is not living in the lifestyle of a woman trying to save money for a small apartment for herself and four children.

He finishes up talking about, while this house is beautiful - definitely more so than their little house in Pennsylvania, it's not pretty or cozy. This is an observation I can understand, and it's actually not a bad thing to have in here, especially comparing what the kids want to what her mother wants. Corrine's used to riches and a big fancy mansion - but that house and those riches feel very hard and cold. The kids, however, wish they were back in their cozy ranch house where they didn't have whatever they wanted and huge piles of money, but had love, warmth and parents that cared about them.

I dunno, it always struck me as pretty good imagery in that respect, but maybe I'm just rehashing the obvious. It's still a nice touch.

Unfortunately, the chapter ends with more of Chris's Oedipus complex when Cathy feels like he's been hiding something and thinks she sees him crying after they turn in for the night. Basically Chris is upset and feeling betrayed because his mother was making out with someone else.

I mean, it could also be he's starting to realize what's really going on with Corrine - how she's been lying to them and her priorities have changed and how he's going to have to face that someday. I'd like to think that's what it's leaning towards, but all of the interactions and language with Chris and Corrine is so gross that it's really a coin-toss.

I'm only doing the one chapter this time because I feel like there was quite a bit to this one, but I'll probably get back to double chapter parts again later. We'll see.

Flowers in the Attic Pt. 8 - or "The Most Horrible Time of the Year"

.... I have no excuses, really. Sometimes I just get really tired of talking about this book.


So it is approaching the next chapter ("Holidays") that I finally notice the chapters themselves are not numbered. That makes my job both easier and harder all at once.

Either way this chapter begins with the attic children getting ready for their first (but certainly not last) holiday season in confinement. Cathy opens up telling us about the amaryllis plant from their mother that's supposed to bloom around Christmas (that their mother said "No - of COURSE we wont be here that long!") and then proceeds to talk about the Thanksgiving decorations they've set up in preparation for the big meal. Their mother assures them that she'll bring up some of Thanksgiving dinner for them so that they can actually eat something different for a change (not to mention something actually hot.)

Let's see how that goes wrong, because this is a book where even something like getting fed on time has to have some sort of inconvenience or misfortune. That's just the kind of story this is.

So they wait around for about three hours, not letting anyone eat because "Momma will be bringing us special hot food" and again, what is with the dialogue in this book? Maybe it's because I haven't looked at this in a while but - ye Gods - it gets worse every time I do!

It's 3:00 when their mother finally shows up, apologizing and saying that her father decided at the last minute he wanted to eat with the family at the table so that made it harder for her to sneak away and prepare some extra food for her kids.

Real talk now - the Grandmother knows their up there, she couldn't give Corrine a hand with this? She already feeds them - what makes this so big a leap? I'm just saying.

So they say a speedy grace and Chris starts divvying up the portions - giving the twins really small amounts because they hate everything, Cathy gets a medium size, and Chris takes huge portions for himself, because he is a raging dickbag. Also the food is cold by the time they get it.


The twins begin turning into a pair of spoiled, bratty little demons again (shocker, I know) saying that they don't like cold food (please see the recap about raisin bran for debate on that) and we get probably the weirdest exchange so far (well, that's a tough call) :

"The brown stuff is called gravy and it's delicious. And Eskimos love cold food."
"Cathy do Eskimos like cold food?"
"I don't know, Carrie. I guess they'd better like it, or starve to death."

Oh hey, we're getting into this part of the drinking game early!

- Racism! 

Seriously, what the actual Hell, VC? - also, pretty sure Inuits would cook whatever they hunted, but I'm no Chris Dollanganger trying to read dictionaries to get into med school, so what the hell do I know?

After Thanksgiving the twins both get sick and are stuck in bed for weeks. This is one of the few times Corrine seems to notice and fusses over them throughout most of it. Everyone, Corrine included, seems to think they should be taken to a doctor in case they have the flu and because they don't seem to be getting better the more time goes on.
Grandma shuts this down, saying that colds only last nine days ("Three to come, three to stay, three to leave") and worrying about them is pointless and really makes me believe this woman would be an anti-vaxxer in a current AU.

Needless to say, they were sick nineteen days and after that, never quite recovered completely.


At this point, Cathy's getting restless and fed up with being locked in one room at the mercy of the germs and sickroom air. Again, can't really blame her. Their mother suggests they take vitamins and, Corrine, that's really not the point here. (Your kids are locked in one room and eat the same thing every single day - you'd think that might have come up before now)
Cathy fights back against all this, wanting to know how much longer they were going to stay locked up there.

"Do you expect me to kill my father?" 

I mean, if you think that would speed things along...




Christmas fast approaches and we get a couple pages of the Dolls getting ready and making things for each other and wondering what the first Christmas in the attic will be like. Chris also gets the bonkers idea of making the Grandmother a gift to try and win her over (which I'm pretty sure is breaking another rule of hers, but whatever. Points for trying)
On Christmas morning they wake up to find piles of presents and full stockings and real candy for the first time since they'd come to that house. ("There will be no trips to the dentist until your grandfather dies" I believe was the rule about that) Cathy goes on about all the gifts their mother brings them, pointing out that they all really only want one thing, and that's to get out of that goddamn room.

When the Grandmother comes in, Cathy gives her the present they made (some kind of picture done in collage with lace and beads - actually sounds pretty nice) and the Grandmother doesn't even look at it. Cathy gets upset,  calling them all fools for trying, and stomps the picture into oblivion. Very mature. 

Later their mother brings in this huge antique doll house that's been in her family for generations

Listen. I'm required to make this joke, okay?

and explains that it's an exact replica of the house, and all the furniture is also exact replicas and it's worth a "fabulous fortune" so... why are you not selling it to get your children away from your crazy family?
Just saying.

We get some more Christmas merriment - Corrine gives them a TV set that her father gave her and dodges any questions about if that means he loves her enough to put her back in his will - and Cathy informs us that there was nothing special in the picnic basket from the Grandmother - just month old turkey leftover from thanksgiving that still had ice on it - and she ends the chapter saying that chocolate sweetened the sourness of her roving wicked thoughts. It's lines like this that give me enough ammo to write more psych analysis on why everything in this book has to come off sounding weirdly sexual at the worst times.


That interesting note follows us right into the next chapter "The  Christmas Party" when Corrine comes in dressed in a  shimmering green gown that we'll hear about in great detail in the next book as well so I wont bore you with it. Cathy describes her smelling like
 "a musky, perfumed garden, on a moonlit night somewhere in the Orient"

- ignoring certain terminology, I really do have to ask, how the FUCK would you know what that smells like? You live in a shoebox!

She sees Chris drooling over their mom (ew) and hopes she looks like that someday with "all those swelling curves that men so admire" and I'm gonna take another "ew" for that one. Thanks.

 Corrine helps sneak Cathy and Chris out of the room and shows them a hiding spot in some kind of cabinet with a mesh back that overlooks the downstairs ballroom so they can watch the party for a while. I see this only going well.

They stare down at all the well-dress people, showing off how obscenely rich everyone is. And they are RICH - make no mistake! God forbid the reader not know the exact amount of their freaking wealth.
Since I really don't want to retype everything she describes, lets get some bullet points!

• three, five-tiered crystal and gold chandeliers
• Hundreds of richly dressed people
• servants in black and red uniforms
• Giant crystal fountain that sprayed out amber liquid into a silver bowl
• Huge gold framed mirrors that reflect the whole room
• the walls are even "gold-colored" so.... they're gold, is what you're saying
• "French chairs, of course- they just had to be Louis XIV or XV. Good-golly day!" 

I'm gonna be using this one a lot, aren't I?

Also since when was Cathy an expert on French Antique furniture? I'm only bringing it up because - well, she's twelve and lives in an attic - and also because I'm pretty damn sure she does this again later.

  More importantly than all of this nonsense, Chris and Cathy get their first ever look at their grandfather, who looks right up at the place where they're hiding as if he knows exactly what's going on. I'm betting that's not gonna come back later or anything.

 They also see their mother letting herself get groped by a young guy with a mustache and hear some conveniently times gossip about Corrine and said mustache.

 His name is Bart Winslow, he's their father's lawyer, and he's been making a pass at Corrine for a while - and she doesn't seem to mind in the least. From the descriptions from Cathy, it seems like the two of them are just making out and groping each other right in the middle of the ballroom. Hey kids - get a room that isn't this one!

For some reason everyone seems to know about Corrine eloping with her "half-uncle" (-shot-) and for the record, I'm pretty sure that's not a phrase human beings outside of this book actually use. The drunk people gossiping dish out some more exposition that we already know and then finally walk away and - I guess Chris and Cathy are just hiding out in that cabinet thing for hours and nothing else of import seems to happen because suddenly it's super late and they both have to go to the bathroom.

As soon as they get back to the room and deal with alltheir bathroom needs (side note: I read another recap of this book somewhere and the blogger also brought up the fact that VC Andrews has this weird fixation on people peeing or shitting - and honestly, I'm starting to notice that myself)  - Chris and Cathy begin to discuss seeing their mother with another man and wondering what that will mean for them. Cathy seems to think that they should be the only company their mother needs but Chris points out that people have sides of their personality you don't see and that of course she would want romance in her life again. He also calls his mother a "sexy young window"

They decide it's the perfect time to explore the house while everyone's distracted and their door is unlocked. So Chris finds a disguise up in the attic and sneaks out to go have a look around. But not before undressing his sister with his eyes and kissing her on the cheek.

"He seemed impressed and dazzled, just as he had when he'd gazed so long at Momma's swelling bosom above the green velvet bodice."

Alright, number one: stop talking about your mom's boobs. Number two - your brother shouldn't be looking at either you OR his mother that way. And three - this line that follows directly after that:

"No wonder he'd kissed me voluntarily - I was so princess-like!"

I can't stand this girl's ego, you guys. I can't even imagine how anyone could read through this and be like "Yes - this is our likable and relatable protagonist!" (I don't know if anyone did that, I'm just saying...)

So Chris leaves and Cathy goes to bed, thinking "Merry Christmas, Daddy" and - damn it, don't make me feel bad for this girl!

Chris's exploration will be looked at in the next chapter - I'll try not to wait five months before writing that one.

Flowers in the Attic, pt. 7 - or "Dear Lord the first half of this book is BORING"

Hello - it's been awhile because - once again - as much as I love picking on this book, I'm really tired of reading it.

I'm going to try and do more than one chapter per recap, since less seems to actually be happening for a while. At least for now. The significant events kind of all happen at once and, as of right now, there aren't too many.



In the last chapter, the kids were told why their mother was disinherited by her father and that they would have to wait in that locked room longer than they'd originally thought until Corrine can save up for an apartment for them.
Or win back her father's love.
Or until he dies.
This is around the time when there's a million potential outcomes and we, as readers, are pretty damn sure it's not going to be any of them.



Chapter seven is titled "Minutes like Hours" and is essentially Cathy explaining how they spent their time in the attic over the next two weeks or so.

Their mother did make good on her promise to bring them games, books, and books about games (bridge, particularly) and Chris and Cathy were easily entertained enough. Unfortunately, the twins had much shorter attention spans and it seemed like none of the fancy toys their mother brings them amuse them for very long.

She next goes into their morning routine, waking up early, getting washed and dressed and then waiting for The Grandmother to arrive with the picnic basket full of their food for the day. In the beginning she would also ask them for bible passages to make sure that they were reading it. She stops after Chris and Cathy keep finding lines like "Wherefore you have rewarded evil for good?" and "Great men are not always wise" and I really must admit, I liked this part. Just little petty little things to get back at Evil Grandma (TM) make me almost like these characters.

A couple of weeks go by and Cathy starts nagging Corrine about how much longer it will take to win back her father's love. Corrine's answer is about as vague as ever, and when Cathy asks what would happen if their Grandfather found out about them... well, it's honestly not very clear.

Y'see, the Grandmother already said that they would be good Christians and wouldn't just throw them out on the street (though considering the things she DOES do to them, I think getting the boot would be much nicer...) so... what could possibly happen to them? Corrine's worried about not being put back into the will, but if it's really a matter of having a place to live until she can get a job and set some money aside (spoiler: she doesn't) and just bearing with it temporarily ... well, can it really be much worse than what happens? I don't believe this is ever brought up again, by the way.

There's some more nothing talk about the attic and what they find in it, how they pass the time, and some really weird info about the twins. We get more of Carrie yelling and wining that she doesn't like things (I HATE this child!) and Cathy explaining that slowly she was becoming like a second mother to them, since their actual mother wasn't always around. There's also this weird bit about Carrie liking ruffly underwear and how she makes everyone look at them (kay....) and a more-than-necessary in-detail description of her getting the shits if she eats the wrong kind of fruit..... why did we need this? Either way, I had to know about it - so so do you.

The meat of this chapter seems to be when Corrine finally shows up again after not making an appearance all day (they kids are used to her spending her Sundays with them, you see) and when she finally shows up she's decked out in a sailing outfit and smelling of sunshine and fresh air and basically flaunting her freedom in their faces. Mom of the year, this one.

Cathy flips out at her, and once again, I really have to agree with her this time. If I'd been locked inside for weeks on end (involuntarily) I'd be pretty pissed off too. This little tantrum finally gets Corrine to fess up that, while the letter she got before they left was written by her mother, her father added a note at the end, saying that the only good thing about her marriage was that she hadn't created and "Devil's Issue" - which is a term you hear a lot in this series.  Alright so I guess the "what-if" of her telling him does come up again... (my bad, but my brain falls asleep reading this part)
So Corrine and the Grandmother plotted in secret to hide the kids in one room (plus attic) without the Grandfather knowing. Cathy suddenly realizes that Corrine has no intention of telling her father about them and their stuck their until he dies. Which is what pretty much everyone except Corrine has been telling them...

Thank you, Giles

She makes them promise to chill out and waste their lives a little longer because her father's going to goes toes up any day now - REALLY. Chris agrees, because of course he does, and Cathy doesn't really say anything else, knowing that there wouldn't really be much point to it.
So that's good.

Next chapter (and about a third into this book) finally brings in the titular "flowers" in the attic. They begin spending most of their time up there, trying to entertain the twins and themselves and after Cory says he misses the garden, they get the idea to turn the attic into one. They spend a week cleaning it up and their mother even helps them (which I'm really amazed at, seeing as that means getting off her ass and actually doing something other than sitting around and looking pretty) and even provides them with art supplies and a few real potted plants because - hell, they'll never set foot outside that room again, might as well decorate?

Through what Corrine tells the kids, Cathy seems to realize that their mom is really starting to get into this whole "rich heiress" thing again. She goes to the movies with old friends, possibly goes on dates (though she denies it) and while she claims to be taking a typing class, I really don't believe that in the least. Because that means work. And Corrine doesn't work.

Insert more bland stuff about Cathy and Chris being Kindergarten teachers for the twins, the twins not liking it, and a little note from Corrine about how their's a book for everything. Remember that later, it comes back in a weird way.

So they decorate the attic with paper flowers and ribbons and foam mushroom chairs (what the what???) and even paper animals taped to the wall (there's a bit in here where Corey makes a weird looking orange snail and Carrie makes a giant purple worm that's too long to put here, but it's the only time I really like these kids)

Like most information in this book, it comes at sort of random intervals in an almost stream-of-consciousness kind of way. Cathy tells us about the Grandmother and how she wont go into the attic because according to Corrine, she's claustrophobic because her parents would lock her in a closet when she misbehaved, and I'm legally obligated to put this here..

The Grandmother one days asks them what they do up there, implying some pretty creepy stuff between Cathy and her older brother and ... look, just wait. We all know what's in this book. Just give it some time. Still, Cathy has no idea what she's talking about and - at that point - no, there's nothing going on, Grandma, you're just setting these kids up to live out your creepy incest suspicion fantasies.

Anyway, that one got away from me.
Where were we?

Two months have gone by and the Grandfather isn't dead yet, Chris suggests that they should keep up their studies so their not too behind when they finally get out, and says he's going to attach a bar to the wall in the attic so Cathy can practice her dancing. Cathy takes this idea less than well because you need costumes and music to dance to and runs down the stairs, fantasizing about if she fell and broke her legs and her neck and died and how they'd all be sorry then.

....I need some tea if I'm gonna get through this one

Her mother shows up a few days later with boxes of ballet costumes and records with a note "from Christopher" and, honestly, this is really sweet. It almost makes me forget how much of a creep Chris normally is. This is a genuinely nice thing he does for his sister and I appreciate it. Then he wrecks it by acting like a fuck-boy again two pages later. So that's that.

This chapter is about forty pages long and the only other significant thing is Corey getting locked in a trunk when they're playing hide and seek in the cold-as-hell attic (it is now November) and almost freezing to death. This bit really only serves two purposes,

1. to illustrate just how helpless they are up there if something happens to one of them
and 2. some really early foreshadowing for the next book.

and with that, I'm bringing this to a close. We're nearly done with part one and then maybe something honestly significant will happen.

Flowers in the Attic pt 6 - or "Well that happened."

Hello and welcome back to this Gothic nonsense.

In this chapter, "Momma's Story," we learn the deep dark secrets of the Dollanganger family ... some of them, at least. Depending on how much you read after this, they really just start to pile up.

We rejoin the Doll' family after Corrine reveals that she'd been whipped by The Grandmother, who also took it upon herself to knock the stuffing out of the bratty twins while she was at it.

Instant replay

Naturally everyone's feeling pretty despairing after all that, but Corrine tells them it'll all be fine and it will never happen again. She assures them that she would suffer a hundred times over if it meant living the fifteen years of happiness she spent with their father. They all gather around her and she tells them what really happened - or at least some of it. I'm sure I don't have to say that we'll learn more later. 

" 'This is a strange house, and the people who reside in it are even stranger...' " 

Pretty sure they noticed that already, Corrine...

She says she should have warned them that her parents are both fanatically religious (again, pretty sure they noticed) and gives an example that, while her father is dying, he's still carried to church in a wheelchair or a stretcher every week and gives a tithe of one tenth of his income. Basically buying his way into heaven so he can act like a bastard as much as he wants. 

What a nice guy. 

Also, Corrine talks for about five straight pages, so I'm going to be paraphrasing this a lot. 

She tells them that when she and her older brothers were growing up, religion was forced down their throats and all they were ever told was "be good." They were forced to go to church no matter what, even if they were sick in bed, weren't allowed to go swimming, because it would mean wearing bathing suits, weren't allowed to play any sort of card game - you get the idea. 

" 'Into all of this, a beautiful young man came to live'" 

Guess who. 

Here's where it gets both confusing and, honestly pretty gross. 

Without all the flourishes Corrine adds - never outright saying its her husband until Cathy's narration actually tells us - the "beautiful young man" was Corrine's husband. He was her grandfather's son that he had with a sixteen year old girl named Alicia, when he was fifty-five. 

- take a shot when this is just outright pedophilia

-ahem- where were we?

So Corrine's grandfather died when Christopher (the first one) was three and he and his mother were thrown out of the house by her father. Alicia married again - and then he died - and then Alicia herself died of breast cancer when her son was sixteen. Putting her at about twenty-nine - good lord, these books are tragedy porn. 

Without anywhere else to go, Christopher went to live with his older half-brother and his family - that of course, being Corrine's parents. 

There's about a page and a half about how he looked standing in the sunlight, marveling about what was around him and how Corrine never noticed that she lived in wealth because it was always there around her. None of that should really be surprising, considering what we know about her so far. 

She also explains that her father is a collector of beautiful things and wants to own everything. Considering that one of these things is his, then fourteen year old, daughter, maybe I should bring up that drinking game bullet point up there again. This family is really cringe worthy... 

So she falls instantly in love with him, even though he's her "half-uncle" ( -shot-) and they grow very close over the years and her parents never suspect a thing. They agreed that, right or wrong, they had to marry, and that once Christopher was out of college, they would elope together. 

" 'They sent him to Yale and he was brilliant.' " 

Sorry, there's just something outrageously stupid about how that line is worded. 

Even though "he was brilliant" and graduated in three years, he could never use that degree because it had a different name on it than the one he used when they were married. Should have thought of that before, huh? 

All while she's explaining this, Cathy is getting totally swept away like it's some deeply romantic fairy tale, ignoring ... dude, she married her uncle. 

(note for the prequel - spoiler ahead: they're not just uncle and niece, he's totally her half-brother) 

Once Corrine turned eighteen, the two of them ran off and got married, then came back to explain to her father what happened and that they were deeply in love and ... I'm sure you can guess the outcome. 

" 'My father nearly threw a fit. He raged, he stormed, he ordered us both out of his house, and he told us never to come back, never!' " 

Pretty sure that is throwing a fit...

So that was why she was disinherited, and in order to win back his love, Corrine is willing to do whatever her father wants - no matter what that may be. 

" 'What could he want from you but obedience and a show of respect?' asked Chris in the most somber, adult way, as if he understood what this was all about.

Momma gave him the longest look, full of sweet compassion as her hand lifted to caress his boyish cheek. He was a younger smaller edition of the husband she'd so recently buried." 

Creepy subtext aside, there is some really Freudian shit in this book. 

Corrine assures them that no matter what the Grandparents might say, there is nothing evil about any of them and that they are not the Devil's Spawn/ Issue and the fact that she gave birth two four beautiful, perfect children is proof that there was nothing unholy about her marriage. They promise that they will always be proud of who they are and never believe what their Grandmother might say about them. 

This is actually a nice passage, but it falls a little flat, knowing what's obviously going to happen later on. Even if you haven't read it before, it's clear things aren't going to go that smoothly or this book wouldn't be four hundred pages long. 

She has them all join hands and say that they are perfect and healthy and wholesome and deserving of love in every way. 

Since they obviously can't go on living in that nightmare of a house, Corrine explains that while she's kissing up to her father, she also plans to go back to school and learn to become a secretary so that she can get a job and move all of them out of there, just in case. They would get an apartment nearby, so that she can still visit her father (because, despite not having her kids trapped in an attic, still gotta try for all that money, right?)  She adds that it might take her a while to learn, because she's never had to work before and always expected to have a man to take care of her. 

" 'It's not my fault, really ... When you're born rich, and you're educated in boarding schools only for the daughters of the extremely rich and powerful, and then you're sent to a girls' finishing school, you are taught polite rules of social etiquette, academic subjects, but most of all, you're made ready for the whirl of romance, debutante parties, and how to entertain and be the perfect hostess. I wasn't taught anything practical. ... I knew that they day I turned eighteen we'd be married' " 

( -drink to forget the 50's) 

All the while she's saying this, Cathy is taking in every word and deciding that she'll never need to rely on a man to get by. Despite swearing her love for her mother in the last page or so, she's also angry and blames her for everything that was happening, because if her mother had been working as well when they're father had died, they might not be where they were. 

Gotta hand it to Cathy, when she's right, she's right. 

Before she leaves, Corrine begs her children one last time to be good and not give the Grandmother any reason to punish them and says she loves them all very much. 

She promises to bring them some games the next day, and Cathy wonders how she would afford that. 

Corrine answers a little too quickly and explains that she has a little money from her father, seeing as he wouldn't want her looking like a beggar to their friends or neighbors. 

Corrine leaves for the night and the kids lay in bed thinking about everything they'd just been told and wonder how long it'll really take to get out of that room. They have faith that their mother will do her best by them and they'll be out of there before they know it. 

With three hundred pages left of this book, I really doubt that. 

Flowers in the Attic: Pt. 5 or "Everyone just SHUT UP!"

-Dusts off my blog-
Damn, okay, so that didn't quite work out. To anyone who looks at this - terribly sorry for the hiatus.

I had actually intended on ... actually posting something, but I work in retail, and the months of October to January are what most people might refer to as: Hell.

As for recently, I'm in the middle of moving again, so things have been a little complicated, and also - it's just really hard for me too keep reading this Goddamn book over and over again...

Anyway, show must go on. I found my marked-up copy of this paperback idiocy, I've had a decent enough break from looking at it - on with the show!

Before I get totally into it, I'd like to thank Paperbacks from Hell by Grady Hendrix for getting me back into the spirit. If you don't know what this book is, it's a collection of pulp horror novel artwork done in the 70's and 80's during the paperback horror boom and - let me tell you - some of these, I'm actually dying to get my hands on. They're the dumbest things I've ever seen and would be so much fun to read.
Note: as of writing this, I have found some here and there and have actually read one of them so far. More on that later.


So the title of this chapter is  "The Wrath of God" so we already know we're in for a fun time.

We last left the idiot siblings still locked in their room after exploring the attic and waiting for their mother's arrival. When she finally comes in, Cathy and Chris instantly notice she's moving very stiffly, her face looks pale and she wont look any of them in the eye.
Mum's not doing too great then.

She asks how their day went and immediately the twins start complaining that they were locked in the room, forced to go into an attic and a ton of mediocre things that probably seem like nothing compared to the day their mom had.
To be fair - yeah they're like - three years old.
I don't care, I hate these kids. I hate reading about them. I hate most of their dialogue.

Carrie the moose starts shrieking and hitting and screaming and all the things she's already known for, and Corrine tries to calm her down with little to show for it, when nurse Ratchett shows up.

For the record, the movie from the 80's is a real gem. An insanely campy, terribly melodramatic gem

She commands that Corrine shut her children up that instant (her words, not mine for a change) with a look on her face that suggests she'd do it for her in another few seconds.

To show just how well behaved she is, Carrie goes over to the Grandmother and does this:

"Planting her small feet wide apart, Carrie threw back her head, opened her rosebud mouth and really let go!" 

It's scenes like this that give a perfect example of why I hate this child. I can't do temper-tantrums, and this whole scene has me on the evil grandma's side of this. They're spoiled as Hell and scream whenever they don't like something.

Sorry, I really don't like children.
Let us continue.

The Grandmother grabs Carrie by the hair and lifts her up off the ground, and Cory - the twin I don't hate - takes it upon himself to defend his twin and runs at The Grandmother and bites onto her leg. The Grandmother drops Carrie on the ground and Cory starts kicking her with his tiny little feet.

"...Cory didn't flinch, his only reaction to this very obvious threat was a deeper, more fierce scowl as his small hands knotted into fists raised in professional boxer style." 

Meanwhile I try not to ask why there were so many options when I googled "Boxing hamster" 

They both start screaming and The Grandmother makes it clear she's done fucking around. She starts slapping them both hard enough to send them flying and they go and cower in a corner (still screaming).
While all this has been going on, by the way, neither the older children, nor their mother have done a thing. They're literally all just sitting their watching it. I'll give Corrine a free pass this time (you'll find out why in a minute) but the other two? What's their excuse?

The twins finally stop screaming when their Grandmother actually grabs them both by the scruff and just throws them back on the floor. With as harsh as this is, what she says next really has you kind of agreeing with her:
"... 'Obviously your children have been spoiled and indulged, and are in desperate need of lessons in discipline and obedience... Hear that!'"

I skipped a little in the middle there, I mostly just like the - not a question - "Hear that!" at the end.
And then she says this...

" 'Now take of your blouse, daughter, and show those who disobey just how punishment is dealt out in this house!'" 

So, I lost track of what's been going on in the Dollanganger drinking game, but we're just gonna add:
"Take a shot when something in this book comes out sounding way more sexual than it really needs to" 

So Corrine  tries to reason with her, saying the twins have stopped crying and there's no need for that. However, the Grandmother makes it clear that she wont fall for her daughter's "pretty face and beguiling ways" which really just adds more fodder to that essay - and then calls her a deceitful, lying bit of trash.
Mother of the year, this one.

Speaking of decent parenting, Corrine has a single moment of maybe trying to stand up for herself by telling the Grandmother that if she's cruel to her children (too late) that she'll take them out of the house tonight and the Grandmother will never see any of them again.

I really don't know why she thought this would work.

Cathy gets her hopes up, thinking that they're going to get out of that house and never have to go up in the attic again and ... no.

Predictably, the Grandmother tells Corrine that she can leave and she doesn't care if she never sees any of them again, which - really - Corrine should know better, considering what just happened.

So because she has nowhere else to go and coming to the house was literally the last resort other than....getting a job(?), Corrine doesn't do anything that would get her kids out of a horribly abusive situation and instead ends up doing what her crazy mother says and takes her blouse off, showing them her back, covered in whip marks.

" 'Take a good look, children. Know that those whip marks go all the way down to your mother's feet. Thirty-three lashes, one for each year of her life. And fifteen extra for each year she lived in sin with your father.' "

The Grandmother's full rant goes on to explain that she was the one who actually whipped her even though Corrine's father was the one who ordered the punishment and that her marriage was a sin against God and that she had that many children with him was evil and ... this woman's entire range of dialogue really just is more of the same...

And then we get some more uncomfortable inner monologue from Cathy:

"My eyes bulged at the sight of those pitiful welts on the creamy tender flesh that our father had handled with so much love and gentleness."

Yeah, I always talk about my mother's skin this way - oh wait - no I don't - cause that's fucking weird.

Either way - take a shot.

So this marks the first part of this book where Cathy is filled with hatred and starts vowing revenge on the Grandmother and starts glaring at her, which seems like a great idea, considering.

The Grandmother explains that she'll give the children food and shelter (like a good Christian?) but they can expect no kindness or friendship from her and she would feel nothing but repulsion towards them. She wants them to know that they are the Devil's Issue - which is another phrase that'll come up a lot - and that they're horrible creatures with no hope of redemption and really I'm getting tired of writing the same thing over and over.

Cathy vows that she'll never be made to hate her father and would strike back at the Grandmother someday in any way she can. She looks over at Chris, who is also glaring at the Grandmother but, she realizes, more in anger over what she did to Corrine. Cathy explains that Chris loves Corrine more than the rest of them and puts her on a pedestal of perfection above all others:

"He'd already told me that when he grew up, he'd marry a woman who was like our mother."

You thought I was joking about the Oedipus thing, didn't you?

We end this chapter with Cathy wondering why they were brought to this house, why had their mother thought it would be safe for them, hadn't she known what her parents would be like, why they were brought in the dead of night, etc. etc.

Will we find out the answer to these questions?

Tune in next time and find out!

Flowers in the Attic - Pt. 4 or "In Which Nothing F*cking happens"

Hello again, it's been a while hasn't it?
Mostly because rereading this book so often makes my brain hurt...

Not much happened in the last chapter except the Doll. siblings (oh wait, Cathy did say the neighbors called them the "Dresden Dolls"... forgot about that) received breakfast and a list of rules from The Grandmother and they began to wait until they maids were done cleaning the rest of the floor so they could go and investigate the attic.

The next chapter opens with them looking up in the attic.

Go figure.

Admittedly, the description is rather impressive - as I said back in chapter one - this book isn't complete trash. Cathy describes the wide planks in the floors, the different dormer alcoves jutting off to each side, and the wide assortment of old furniture and junk that seems to be piled up literally everywhere.

They start digging through some old trunks and look through several decades worth of moldy, moth ridden clothes, and yet Cathy is still able to fantasize about wearing some of them:

"How I would love to flounce about in a frilly chemise over pantaloons, with dozens of fancy petticoats over wire hoops, all bedecked in ruffles, lace embroidery, with flowing ribbons of velvet or satin, and my shoes would be of satin and over all of this bedazzled finery would be  a lacy parasol to shade my golden curls, and keep the sun from my fair, unwrinkled complexion. And I'd carry a fan to elegantly cool myself, and my eyelids would flutter and bewitch. Oh what a beauty I'd be!"

There is not a single character in this book of narcissistic sociopaths more in love with herself than Cathy is.

She's pulled out of these thoughts by the twins whining about how it's hot and they don't like it up in the attic. She more or less ignores them and there's more description of the attic as they start looking through old albums and moldy books and Chris starts lusting after a dress dummy that belonged to one of the pretty girls in the photos they'd found - which then instantly shifts to him talking about their mother:

" 'But this girl is only pretty,' Christopher concluded. 'Our mother is beautiful.'
The silence of that space was so deep you could hear your heartbeat."

I can't do paragraph indents on this thing, but that next line is an entirely new paragraph. Still, it reads like there was just this awkward pause after he says that.

After the line about the silence, Cathy is back to talking about what's in the attic and how they could even look in every trunk stored up there for something to do and discover what secrets the attic might be keeping. All I say is - wait a few years.

This immediately jumps to Cathy getting worried over why their grandparents would hate them so much, Chris tries to reassure her, without much success, and they once again start looking around the attic.

If this chapter could pick a tone or a center of focus, that'd be great.

The twins start whining about it being dusty and Chris finds a little school room full of books and a couple of desks and toys in the back of the attic. This is actually an interesting detail because the desks have names, ages and dates carved into them that implies the four of them probably weren't the only kids to be locked away in this attic. I doubt any of this is ever explored - since the Dollanganger series mostly just follows these little shits and their offspring - and most of the later books in the series weren't even written by Andrews at all. If these names were supposed to come into play later, we'll probably never know (but correct me if I'm wrong - but I refuse to read any more of this series than I already have)

Cathy starts looking through some of the books and then screams when one of them is full of centipedes. So that happened.

Honestly so little actually happens in this chapter that I have to resort to mentioning centipedes.

They manage to open some of the windows and let in the air, and Chris mentions leaving one of them open at night, hoping an owl might fly in:

" '...I've always wanted an owl for a pet.' 

'For heaven's sake, why in the world would you want on of those things?' "

Everyone is fond of owls

" 'Owls can turn their heads all the way around. Can you do that?' "

For some reason this exchange has always amused me a little. Cathy wonders why a bird as wise as an owl would even want to come in and be locked away with them, to which I feel obligated to mention that owls are dumb as Hell.

The twins start whining that they want to go outside and play in the garden and swing, which obviously they can't, and Chris tells them to pretend that the attic is outside and he manages to make swings for them out of random rope and garbage that's up in the attic and hangs them from the rafters. This bit is important because it's the scene where they decide to make the attic into a garden, which is where the title comes in.

As someone who was fascinated with attics as a child, I actually relate to this a lot more than I probably should...

They go back downstairs for lunch and Chris and Cathy start talking about what they'll do when they're rich as kings. Cathy talks about wanting a horse or a pony or some generic thing that twelve year olds in the 50's wanted, and says when she's a famous prima ballerina she'll eat nothing but cheese and ice cream all day and work off the fat by dancing. This is not how anything works.

They discuss other things like which games to ask their mother for to make the week go by faster, the twins brat out again and Cathy reads them stories to get them to shut up, following that paragraph with "Thank God we weren't going to be shut up here long" again.

There's really nothing else of consequence to mention here, if I try and recap anything else in, it's just going to be typing the same thing over and over.

Until next time, here's hoping something happens in the next chapter.

Flowers in the Attic Pt. 3 "Your Mother eats Raisin Bran in Hell"

Welcome back and here we begin chapter three and if anyone's been wondering why I hate the twins, you'll find out now...

Our chapter begins with our main characters waking up in the cramped and dark room in their Grandparents' giant mansion. A room on the barely used second floor that is - supposedly - the only room in a giant mansion that has it's own bathroom

 - Sorry, I'm still hung up on that. It's just too stupid for me to suspend my disbelief

Most of the first few pages is Cathy waking up and looking around the room, which as I've already said is dark, cramped with excess furniture and the blinds and shutters are closed.

Oh yeah - and there's gruesome paintings of Hell and damnation all over the walls.

Welcome home, kids

Chris the Art Nerd guesses that the paintings are Goya's work and Cathy kind of ignores him because he's a know-it-all. The twins wake up and immediately want to know how they got there, where they are, and start complaining that they don't like it. (There's going to be a lot of that. Gird your loins)

Now maybe I'm not being fair. It's not "the twins" that are annoying. It's only one of them.
Cathy spends a good deal of time talking about them in this chapter and explains that Carrie is always the one to voice her complaints and talk a lot. A. Lot.

She describes that as constantly chattering like a sweet little bird in the mornings, chirping happily. Two pages later she says she sounds like a moose.

Before Carrie can continue her complaining, the Grandmother comes in with a tray of food that she says will have to last them all day, seeing as she can't keep coming up and down the stairs all day, which I guess is fair, she is an old lady, after all and she doesn't want the servants to notice.

She explains that when they are in the bedroom they must be completely silent, so that no one will know they're there, but after the servants are done cleaning in that wing in the mornings, they may go up to the attic where there is room to run around and make noise.

Before she leaves, she gives them a list of all the things they can't do while they're staying in her home and says that even if they try to hide their wickedness, God will see every sin they commit and punish them for it.

Thanks, Grandma. Love you too.

Once she's out of the room they start to divvy up the food for the day and Chris acts like a complete and utter fuckboy when Cory (other twin) pees in a vase because Cathy and Carrie are in the bathroom.

" 'That should teach you to ignore a man in need. We men are not like you sit-down females. Any little thing will do in an emergency.' "

Go choke on your fedora.

Before they can actually eat, Carrie decides to speak up again, and there's a chance that she is not a fan of the breakfast menu:

" 'We-ee don't like bacon and eggs! Cold CEREAL is what we-ee like! We-ee don't want no hot, lumpy bumpy food that's greasy. Cold CEREAL IS WHAT WE LIKE!' she shrieked. 'Cold CEREAL WITH RAISINS!' "

I'm convinced this is what Raisin Bran ads look like in the deepest level of Inferno

Chris gets the two (actually one) of them to shape up and eat their food and after breakfast they look at The Grandmother's list, which basically sums up as:

- Always be fully dressed
- Never take the Lord's name in vain and say grace before meals
- Never open the drapes and look out the windows
- Never speak unless spoken to
- You're evil and the Devil's issue and there's no possible way for me or your Grandfather to love you so you're going to stay up here until he's dead and no one is to know you exist
- Don't waste food
 - Keep the room clean

" '...you are never to be idle. You will devote five hours each day to studying, and use the remainder of your time to develop your abilities in some meaningful way. If you have skills, abilities or talents, you will seek to improve upon them, and if you have no abilities, or talents, or skills, you will read the Bible; and if you cannot read, then you will sit and stare at the Bible, and try to absorb through the purity of your thoughts the meaning of the Lord and his ways."

The hell did I just read?

- Brush your teeth
- Make the beds

"... if I ever catch boys and girls using the bathroom at the same time, I will quite relentlessly, and without mercy, peel the skin from your backs.'"

So, y'know, usual thing.

They get through the list and Cathy starts freaking out that their mother will never win over the Grandfather and they could be trapped in that room forever.

Oh honey...you have no idea.

Chris assures her that, obviously The Grandmother is out of her mind and there's no way they'd actually have to take all of that seriously. He then makes the list into a paper airplane.

The chapter ends with Cathy still despairing over everything, but hoping that Chris is right and the grandfather might eventually have some affection to give his grandchildren.

Tune in next time where we see just how wrong she is~~~

Flowers In The Attic - Pt. 2 "To Nurse Ratchet's house we go!"

Hello and welcome back to the Freudian nonsense known as V.C. Andrews "Flowers in the Attic."

 We last left our narrator, the twelve year old Cathy Dollanganger (seriously my spell check hates me every time I have to write that) and her three siblings being told that they would have to leave their comfortable Pennsylvania home to go and live with their mother's mysterious and obscenely wealthy parents after the death of their father.
Also apparently the Repo! Men are coming for all of their belongings.

Because 50's.

Chapter two opens up with Cathy and Chris having just finished packing their things and getting on a train with their mother and the demon-spawn twins (I do have a reason for hating these two - all will be revealed in due time) and riding off into the night, heading for who-knows-where.

Cathy and Chris spend a good bit of their train time speculating what their lives will be like when they move in with the wealthy grandparents and get to live like royalty.

"And I supposed I'd have my own maid to lay out my clothes, draw my bath, brush my hair and jump when I commanded. But I wouldn't be too stern with her. I would be sweet, understanding,  the kind of mistress every servant desired - until she broke something I really cherished! Then there'd be hell to pay - I'd throw a temper tantrum and hurl a few things I didn't like anyway." 

It's commentary like this that makes it nearly impossible for me to ever feel any kind of sympathy for this character.

"Looking backward to that night on the train, I realize that was the very night I began to grow up..."

The paragraph I just read before this sentence would suggest otherwise.

So they ride along into the dead of night, when finally the conductor comes and tells them their stop is coming up and asks if someone will be there to meet them - because it's the middle of nowhere at three o' clock in the morning.

Corrine, outstanding mother of the year that she is, assures him - after saying she knows the way, and she could find the house in her sleep, and she lives a few miles away - finally says someone will be coming to pick them up. Lady, if you were gonna flat-out lie, maybe do that first?

The train lets them off at a tiny platform and there's no one there to meet them. Obviously.  They begin walking through the woods with Corrine in the lead with the suitcases and Cathy and Chris carrying the sleeping demon four-year-olds.

Corrine explains that she'll drop the kids off that night with their luggage, then walk back to the depot right after and take a train to the next town over, pick up her suitcases, and come back. Because of course. That makes perfect sense, doesn't it?
Cathy's narration claims that it sounded reasonable - but doesn't stop to question why the four of them are being brought to the house in the middle of the night and her mother wants to arrive by herself the next day.
As if that wasn't enough, when the older kids complain that they need to stop and rest, Corrine simply tells them to wake up the twins and make them walk, adding to herself:

"Lord knows they'd better walk outside while they can." 

Jesus, Lady!

Cathy overhears this, feels uneasy, but ultimately gets over that momentary apprehension in the next sentence or so. Nice to see she's so easy going.

After that we get a good bit of exposition about Cathy's family and how charming her mother is and even though Corrine had "fallen from grace" she would surely charm and beguile her father into loving her again and writing her back into his will. She explains that the same routine was used on their father whenever he didn't want to spend money or was upset about something.

It's at this point I would like to point out, I could probably write an entire college essay on how Corrine's only skill is her sex appeal and she uses it on literally every member of her family to try and get what she wants ... but who has the kind of time for that?

After another page and a half of them walking and the twins waking up and complaining that they don't like walking in the woods when it's dark and howling about one thing or another, they finally reach the house and are ushered inside by a tall, imposing old woman wearing grey.

This is our first introduction to "The Grandmother" - and yes, she is referred to that way every single time.

She is described as being very tall and broad with stony grey hair tied in a very tight bun and dressed in grey taffeta with a diamond broach pinned at the throat. So... not the nicest looking lady.

Actually the casting for the movie adaptation from '86 was pretty damn perfect, save for the hair color

Those fans of "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" know what I'm talking about.

Also in locating that picture I also found quite a few gifs of The Grandmother smacking the bejeezus out of several different characters, so we have that to look forward to.

The Grandmother leads them upstairs to a large but cluttered and very dark bedroom where the kids get ready for bed and Corrine tries to convince her mother that her children are perfect and wonderful and it's a good thing she can't hear any of Cathy's internal monologue because her argument would be out the window.

Cathy tried to put the sleeping twins in one bed like they had been at their old house, but Grandma Guillotine has a problem with that, claiming that the two older children can't share a bed.  Corrine comes to their defense, claiming they're innocent and that's where we get the clunkiest phrase in the book that we get to hear over and over.

" 'Innocent?' she snapped back with a look so sharp it could draw blood, 'That is exactly what your father and I always presumed about you and your half-uncle.' "


Seriously, there's just something about the phrase "half-uncle" and their constant use of it over and over that... really just doesn't work. It's clunky and really doesn't pack as much of a punch as I think it's supposed to.

Corrine then pleads that if The Grandmother as such a problem with it, then she should give them separate rooms - because lord knows their giant mansion has enough of them, right? But The Grandmother claims that's impossible because this is the only room in the entire house that has it's own adjoining bath, and on that, I'm calling bullshit.

I skipped over a lot of the description in the beginning, but we hear again and again how huge and expansive and maze-like this house is and you're telling me that only one room in the entire thing has a bathroom attached to it?

Anyway, that bit of unbelievable nonsense aside, Corrine then says that her mother should just give the kids the whole wing since it can be locked at the end of the hall and no one uses this part of the floor anyway. Again, sounds reasonable.

Oh wait - before that is when The Grandmother tells them that they're going to be shut in one room for God-knows how long and they can't make any noise and have to keep the twins quiet because their Grandfather can't know that they exist.

Like y'do.

After that horrifying bit of news is dropped on them like an anvil, Corrine tries to reassure them it'll only be one night and then starts pleading for them to have the whole North Wing - which, again, sounds like an argument that should have been had before now.

" 'Corrine, I make the decisions here - not you! Do you think I can just close and lock the door to this wing and the servants wont wonder why?' "

Yes. Because it's your house.

Corrine argues again and The Grandmother starts gnashing her teeth at her... because I guess people really do this - and says to give her time and maybe she can think of a reason to close down the wing.
The kids are obviously worried, but Corrine tries to, once again, reassure them that it'll only before a short time - a week at the most - until she can win back her father's love. This is the exact opposite of what The Grandmother has been saying right in front of them, but hey, kids don't listen to grandma, apparently.
She asks them to be brave and reminds Cathy that her father loved her very much, and so does she, then drifts over to Christopher to whisper something in his ear that'll probably fuel his Oedipus complex even more.

They all say goodnight and get into bed, and that's where the second chapter leaves us.

I'll probably go chapter by chapter with each recap unless absolutely nothing happens in one of them or they're really short. Most of what we've gotten so far has been a lot of exposition with very little action or real events actually happening.

Until next time...

Flowers In The Attic - Pt. 1 "Exaggeration is the very best medicine"

 Alright, so I know everyone and their (hopefully not evil, overly religious) grandmother has poked fun at this book, but I really have to give it a try myself.

I should start off by saying that I actually do not hate this book by any means - it has a million problems and is wonderfully riffable, but I can also see why it was so popular, and there are a few moments that really do hold up.

...the rest of the series is not so lucky

But we'll get to that later.

To give a bit of background before we begin, Flowers in the Attic was the first novel in the Dollanganger (spell check is gonna hate me before this is done) novels by V.C. Andrews who, as anyone who frequents bookstores as much as I do is aware, still publishes books to this day, despite actually dying of breast cancer sometime in the mid 80's.
That said, this first novel of hers has become something of a cult classic and a pretty good example of modern gothic literature

So there's that.

So the book opens with a prologue (and a dedication to Andrews' mother - you'll find out how ironic that is as we go on) where Cathy, our narrator explains why she's decided to call her book "Flowers in the Attic" as opposed to something more hopeful, and that years have passed since the events of her work of "fiction" and that the book will serve as "the knife she hopes to wield" against... someone

Without anymore warning we're dropped into chapter one titled "Goodbye Daddy"

Gee - I wonder what's going to happen.

Cathy describes her childhood, growing up in a well-off middle class family in the 50's - so already we know we're in for a wild ride.

She continues on about how successful her father is, and how his boss has dinner with them and often brags about how wonderful her father is at his job:

 " 'It's that all-American, wholesome, devastatingly good-looking face and charming manner that does them in.' " 

To those familiar with Andrews' work, we know that in this context, these are words that usually mean "incest."

She goes on for another quarter of a page talking about how perfect her father is, how his hair is flaxen blonde and waves just enough to be perfect, he has a perfectly angled nose, he's six feet tall - I'll spare you the rest, you can get the picture easily enough on your own.

Come on, Barbie - let's go party

Because he was always "dashing off" (yup - those exact words) on planes throughout the week, he would be gone much of the time but always come home Friday evenings, walking in and yelling
"Come greet me with kisses if you love me!"  and Cathy and her older brother would run out and he'd spoil the hell out of them with presents from his pockets before doling out the big stuff later.

Once he was done greeting the kids, their mother (pardon me "Momma"), Corrine, would come into the room and they'd stare longingly at each other as though they hadn't seen each other in years.

"On Fridays our mother spent half the day in the beauty parlor having her hair shampooed and set and her fingernails polished, and then she'd come home to take a long bath in perfume-oiled water. I'd perch in her dressing room, and watch her emerge in a filmy negligee..."

Totally something to wear around your kids...


So she spends all day making herself look beautiful for when their dad gets home, then the two of them lock themselves in the bedroom for a while. Like you do. Not like you guys have kids to take care of or anything that you were ignoring because you were in your room preening all day.

After that rather long ramble about her father's business schedule and her mother's beauty routine, Cathy recounts an afternoon when she and her brother Christopher came home and found their mother knitting by the fire.

Literally every movie or TV show has used this cliche and still Cathy is freaking oblivious.

"...knitting a little white sweater fit for a doll to wear. I thought it was a Christmas gift for me, for one of my dolls."

I realize Cathy is supposed to be, like, six or seven here, but still, I find it hard to believe that these kids are this naive.

Their mother just sits there staring at them in kind of a weird way, and Chris just stares back while Cathy rambles on about the weather and how she'd never want to live where it doesn't snow in some of the most obvious foreshadowing you've ever read in your life.

After a bit more weird staring, "Momma" tells them that she visited her doctor that day and, like any concerned child, Chris acts if she's sick. The following exchange makes me uncomfortable for some reason...

" 'Christopher Dollanganger, you know better than that. I've seen you looking at me with suspicious thoughts in your head.' "

She then grabs both of their hands and places them on her "bulging middle" - and once again, I have to point out that these kids are so sheltered they have no idea their mother is pregnant even if she's starting to noticeably show like that?

50's man...

So predictably to anyone but our narrator, she tells them she's going to have twins in early May and that not even their father knows this yet.

Hold up.

Just hold on a second.

This scene takes place in the winter - Cathy doesn't say when but there's snow on the ground and ice all over the trees so my best guess is probably December or January. Corrine is due in May.
Are you actually telling me that this woman is three to four months pregnant and not only has she not mentioned it to her husband - but hasn't even seen a doctor until now?

-Deep Breath-


So being the awful little brat she is, Cathy feels threatened about more kids coming into their house and stealing her father's attention away from her and goes to cry in her room until her father comes home. She had the door locked until then, but unlocks it just in case he wants to come in and talk to her.

Can't tell who the favorite is at all, huh?

Obviously her father comes to see her, concerned that she didn't come to welcome him home as usual and Cathy acts like an awful little brat until her father promises to love her more than any other daughter he might have and gives her a garnet ring and frankly, the whole thing is a bit Freudian for my liking...

So the twins are born and of course she loves them and says they're more fun than dolls and pretends to be their mother and always takes care of them and all the stuff big sisters are supposed to do.

Now our stage is set - we know our family, we have our main cast - so let's watch it fall apart.


When Cathy is twelve, her brother Chris is fourteen and the living embodiments of all I hate in the world are four, there comes a "very special Friday" and the kids and their mother are getting ready for their father's birthday, readying a surprise party for when he comes home that afternoon from another of his business trips.

After about a page and a half of getting ready and guests and making sure everything is Perfect, they wait for their father to get home.
And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And we are forced to read about the waiting.

Finally a car pulls into the driveway, but it isn't their father's. It is, of course, a police car, and the officers at the door have the unfortunate task of telling Corrine that her husband was in an automobile accident. It doesn't go well.

" 'According to accounts... there was a blue ford weaving in and out of the left-hand lane, apparently drunk, and he crashed head-on into your husband's car. But it seems your husband must have seen the accident coming, for he swerved to avoid a head-on collision, but a piece of machinery had fallen from another car, or truck, and this kept him from completing his correct defensive driving maneuver, which would have saved his life. But as it was, your husband's much heavier car turned over, several times, and still he might have survived, but an oncoming truck, unable to stop, crashed into his car, and again the Cadillac spun over . . . and then . . . it caught on fire.' "

Jesus Christ - did Lemoney Snicket write this?

Also I'd like to point out, that I did not add the ellipses in the last sentence, nor did I add or take out and commas. It's actually written like that.

Seriously though, talk about over-kill.

And as if that didn't really get the point across enough, poor Corrine actually asks:

" 'He isn't . . . he isn't . . . dead . . . ?' "

Lady. Lady. I feel for you - I really do - but are you serious?

The cop explains that her husband was killed instantly after the crash (though part of me has to wonder, which one?)  Also Cathy keeps describing the cop as "red-faced" which just leads me to believe that this police officer is here delivering heart-breaking news to an innocent family, while drunk off his ass.

Actually that would probably make that account of the accident make a lot more sense.

So Corrine goes into some kind of grief swoon and Cathy starts yelling at the cops to go away before (again) running away outside to cry. Because that's how this girl has learned to deal with her problems.

I know I'm being pretty harsh - Cathy is only twelve and she did just lose her father in probably the most horrifyingly funny way I've ever read, but it's hard to feel any kind of sympathy when her own internal monologue sounds like this:

" Not Daddy! Not my daddy! He couldn't be dead . . . he couldn't be! Death was for old people, sick people . . . not for someone as loved and needed and young" 

Hours later, her mother comes outside to find her and take her in - because apparently she hadn't realized she was out there all night - and that began a "nightmare that shadowed their days"

Neighbors came in droves to bring over food and offer pretty awful condolences, saying it was such a shame that someone so wonderful died when there were so many useless people running around being a strain on society.

I'm paraphrasing, but not by much.

What the fuck people?

So Cathy and her brother deal with the neighbors and take care of their demon-twin siblings while Corrine mopes around the house in her underwear and writes letters all day.

Finally a response to one of the many letters sent out comes and Corrine pulls her children into the parlor (once again, in a "filmy, black negligee") and explains that they're in a mess of debt and nothing in the house is fully paid for, and that "they" are going to come and repossess everything and I'm just gonna leave this here

Corrine continues to explain that because she has absolutely zero practical skills and no work experience, she had to write home to her parents, who are obscenely rich, and have finally agreed to let their disinherited daughter and her four children come to live with them.

Apparently when she was eighteen, Corrine did "something" to anger her father and now she has to try to win back his love so she can inherit his amazing fortune. Her mother has money too, but wont give her any - so to hell with her, I guess?

She pleads with her children to try and make this work and trust her and soon they'll be living like royalty. While she does this, she grabs her kids' hands and presses them against her breasts -

Take a shot if most of Corrine's interactions with her children make you uncomfortable.

- and tells them that it's not love that makes the world go 'round - it's money.

That's some wholesome family lessons worthy of the Disney channel right there.

" 'Your grandfather cannot possibly live longer than two or three months at most. That will give me plenty of time to charm him into loving me like he used to - and when he dies his entire fortune will be mine! Mine!' "

Muwahahahahaha!

She tells them to go upstairs and pack immediately because they're leaving on a train that night (meanwhile her kids haven't eaten dinner and she's still walking around in her underwear) and can only pack what will fit in one suitcase for them and one for the twins - because she needs two for herself, obviously.

Cathy looks regretfully around her room, mourning over what she can't take with her and wondering what will happen to her things when "they" come for them.
Luckily, her mom is there to cheer her up:

" 'Don't just stand there and cry -  A room is just a room - you'll live in many rooms before you die so hurry up...' "

Mother of the year, this one. Really.

Cathy reflects that she did believe she would live in many rooms before she died, and that is the end of chapter one..... I feel like that was both the most informing and most pointless intro of a book I've ever read.

To be continued, when the real "horror" begins...

-cut out on dramatic music swelling-