I am drained.
I just finished reading Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews and I feel as though my own soul has been ripped out of my body.
Normally, I love strange and unusual books because, well, I am a strange and unusual bookseller (commercial pulg, buy from Viridian Books!!) but this story left me feeling dirty, angry, disgusted . . and grateful for having read such a novel. I bought my copy from the recent library sale for only pennies and yet this story will stay with me for months to come. In fact, I know I will be buying the next several books as soon as I have enough books to trade.
Let me wrap up the story for you, for those who have never heard of the novel: a woman who places her four children in the attic of her parents' mansion to live for YEARS, older brother and sister who discover that they are in love with each other, powdered doughnuts with sprinkled arsenic, a grandmother who condemns all things related to exposing the naked body to the opposite sex, an inheritence gained only if the heir claims to have no children whatsoever (and she does have children from her first marriage . . to her step uncle!) and so on and so on.
I think I need to get drunk tonight, but in some strange way, I don't think I will; I want to keep the Gothic images in my mind for as long as possible.
Strange and Unusual indeed.
Thanks for listening.