Jan 05, 14
Recommended to Rhonea by:
Troll Book Club
Generation X and Yers
Read in September, 1988
I can see from a great deal of the reviews that many of the reviewers are around my age (Generation X-ers). Somewhere between Michael Jackson, who was child-like but grabbed his crouch and made faces as if he was in the throes of passion, hot, plastic jelly shoes, biker shorts, big shirts, shoulder pads, breakdancing and Dynasty was this wonderfully awful book. We liked it because Cathy was us. Victimized, misunderstood, niave, hormonal . . . us.
We were disturbed by the incest but somewhere under some of us, we either found it so shocking we couldn't turn away or the brother and sister were so Macy's mannequin-good-looking that we forgot at times that "Golly-lolly!", they're brother and sister (I've heard a few girls say they thought that the brother was hot -!). Some of us may have forgiven them because they are prisoners in an attic and we may have heard somewhere that heterosexual inmates have sex with members from their same gender, so wouldn't these two?
I read somewhere that Andrews was in a wheelchair and often confined which evidently, proved to be a formative experience for this book.
No aspiring author should glean tips on style and voice from this book, but we all have to admit, she did something right because most people loved or hated this book. There are over two hundreds of pages of reviews on it in Goodreads to prove it.
Don't see the movie, though. The Academy-award winning actress from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was wasted in that terrible movie. V.C. Andrews had a cameo in it.