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441 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published September 7, 2006
This book was painfully awful. It’s the first book I’ve ever thrown away from me in disgust and frustration. Everything coalesces to form a deeply unpleasant reading experience, from the weak plot to the one-dimensional characters.
Beginning with the plot, the way the author chooses to handle the prologue is truly the most telling thing. What should have been at least the first third of the novel is compressed into a mere seventeen pages. That is because the plot is not important in this novel. The plot is there to serve as the wringer through which this family is sent; it does not drive the story. It looks backward instead of moving forward. Therefore, the novel feels very slow and plodding.
Sandcastles aspires to be more of a character study than a story, which would be fine if the characters weren’t so transparent. The women are all hands-wringing, over-emotional messes. The number of times they seem on the verge of collapse from their poor nerves is almost hysterical. Regis is the worst, though her storyline does attempt to make allowances. Agnes is annoyingly bland when she’s not being annoyingly sanctimonious and Cecelia is a useless inclusion to the story. Honor… Well, let me just say this. If Honor and John are supposed to have this all-consuming, passionate love, why can’t I imagine them having sex? Why can’t I imagine her talking dirty to the husband she is supposedly so attracted to? She’s as chaste as Bella Swan but twice as pretentious.
There are only two men that really matter, three if I’m generous. John is the main and he is boring. While he at least lacks the hysteria of his wife and eldest daughter, his stoicism and static character arc make him seem like a placeholder than an active player in the novel. He’s only there for everything to revolve around – the trauma that makes our protagonists the poor, crushed flowers that they are. He changes not even a little bit over the course of the story; his conflict with Honor is resolved when Honor decides she just needs to accept his dangerous ways. Tom is the most tolerable of the characters drawn, but he really only serves to torture the character of Bernie. That their story mostly appears in the sequel just shows how unnecessary their inclusion is here. Brendan is a boring, saintly figure with no flaws. Peter is comically transparent. The only thing that’s left is for the author to have named him “Oppositional McDon’tMarryHim”.
And then there’s the writing, which is just over-wrought and melodramatic. The narration is constantly interrupting the thrust of the story. Every time a character is about to actually do something, they interrupt themselves to think back to the box they found in the wall, or the events of the prologue, or the reflection of the moonlight, or the direction of the wind, or some such horseshit. It over-romanticizes its environment to the point of hollowing out any sense of reality.
There are other terrible writing choices. The author constantly expounds on the same theme. She repeats the same talking points over and over again, from the perspective of different characters without ever taking care to add new information. It feels like padding and it only serves to make weak characters (Agnes and Bernadette) feel even more useless. The author also constantly makes the most obvious choices in crafting her story. She never trusts the reader to draw their own conclusions (I suspect this is mostly because the characters are such transparent pawns that they don’t have enough strength to carry implications on their own). The best example of this is in the handling of Regis’s fiancée Peter. Within moments of introducing their relationship, it’s obvious something is rotten in Denmark, but the other has every other character expound on it endlessly JUST IN CASE YOU DIDN’T GET IT.
In all, this is probably the worst book I have ever read as an adult. I’m going to chuck this book in the Donate-To-Library box and never, ever look back.