"Flowers in the Attic" by V.C. Andrews

I am not impressed. I should have read this back in 7th grade like everyone else did--I'm sure I would have appreciated it more then. It is narrated by a young girl (who, at the point in the book where the titular attic becomes involved, is twelve years old), and admittedly the author does a good job of writing the book as if it were really being dictated by a preteen; however, all of the other characters--not to mention the entire situation they find themselves in--seem so false that they could only have come from this young girl's imagination. Their words, actions, attitudes and motivations are unrealistic and fanciful, born of a mind with no experience in life. Not only that, but it's all just so melodramatic. I'm pretty sure if you look up "purple prose" in the dictionary, this book is given as a definition.

I'm so glad it's over. I got to the point where I was embarrassed to be seen reading this book. I could just feel accusatory eyes boring into the back of my skull, full of the knowledge that what I was reading was beyond squicky. At least I have assuaged the curiosity that I'd carried with me for the past few decades. I do wonder, however, who was the intended audience for this book? I have to say I don't feel the subject matter is appropriate for children, and yet the terrible writing isn't appropriate for adults.

All that remains is to add my heartfelt thanks to wikipedia.org, whose synopses of the sequels assured me there was nothing better to come. What a relief! Because I must admit, I did retain the slightest shade of curiosity about what happened in Chris, Cathy and Carrie's future. (I even briefly wondered if Carrie ended up in a bloodbath at prom, because I was pretty sure she wouldn't turn out normal). But now that I know what happens in the sequels (basically, the squickiness continues), I can move on to better things.