Published: 31st October 2006
Publisher: Penguin
Pages: 146
Format: Paperback
Genre: Gothic Mystery
★ – 1 Star
Merricat Blackwood lives on the family estate with her sister Constance and her Uncle Julian. Not long ago there were seven Blackwoods—until a fatal dose of arsenic found its way into the sugar bowl one terrible night. Acquitted of the murders, Constance has returned home, where Merricat protects her from the curiosity and hostility of the villagers.
I think it is no small feat for a book with only 146 pages to bore me so much. I had heard this was a classic, I had heard this was a Gothic mystery. A short Gothic mystery sounded like a great read. Unfortunately this was not the case.
To the credit of Shirley Jackson I was intrigued for a few chapters but then I was uninterested. I could see the Gothic mystery feel Jackson was going for. I got into the mood of the book, the small town, the eyes and whispers, not to mention the old house with the secluded family and secrets. After a good introduction to this town and these strange characters it plateaus and not a lot happens. The mystery around Merricat and her sister is decent, but there was something that couldn’t keep me engaged. I think it was perhaps the fact I figured out the secret from the beginning, but even then it is slow.
Merricat is a strange character. She is airy and absent, and if it wasn’t for the fact she interacted with villagers at the start I was half convinced she was a ghost and only Constance could see her. It’s an entirely confusing story as Jackson tries to keep not saying things and keeps etiquette from stating things outright. The dynamic between the remaining Blackwood’s is stilted, Merricat is unreliable as a narrator and she speaks in riddles half the time so you have no idea what is happening.
What was worse than it being confusing was that it became quite boring. I got myself to the halfway point and it got so dull I couldn’t bring myself to continue. I tried but I had no interest in these characters or their lives. The hook of the secret and the general strangeness wasn’t enough to hold me. I even tried skimming but didn’t care for that either. I ended up looking at the plot on Wikipedia, confirmed I knew what had happened and was relieved that I hadn’t read the rest of it, even if it was only 146 pages long I couldn’t make myself read any further.
There is an exciting ending, if one could call it that. Something happens at any rate, but perhaps this tale of Gothic mystery just wasn’t for me. In a similar vein to The Woman in Black, I cannot see the point of dragging things out endlessly for a mood. For even Hill’s story was 138 pages and it managed to have more substance than this one did.
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