Ratings9
Average rating3.7
From the attic of Lyntons, a dilapidated English country mansion, Frances Jellico sees them--Cara first: dark and beautiful, then Peter: striking and serious. The couple is spending the summer of 1969 in the rooms below hers while Frances is researching the architecture in the surrounding gardens. But she's distracted. Beneath a floorboard in her bathroom, she finds a peephole that gives her access to her neighbors' private lives.
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I don't love the format of “old person reflects back on the past, which is where the story actually takes place”. It feels tired and doesn't add anything to the story. However, I can see that the author wanted to tease out the secret of Frances being in jail, slowly revealing it and then having it hanging over our heads during the final chapters of her time with Peter and Clara, rather than it being a big reveal in the ending chapters. I don't love that structure, but I understand why the choice was made and it didn't ruin the flow (as I had feared at first).
The story itself was good, although it got off to a pretty slow start. Once Peter and Clara have some weirdness on them things finally get interesting. The best part of the book by far was the ending, where we learn that Frances murdered her mother. I was not at all expecting it, and it one-upped my little fantasy revenges on Frances's behalf; I was left thinking “Oh ok, you've got this one handled, holy shit.” The ending definitely left a good final impression.
Our narrator is near death and recalling the events of the summer of 1969 when she found herself at an abandoned country house. Despite her boozy sounding name, Fran Jellico is a 39 year old, thick around the middle, awkward, greying virgin barely held together with her mother's (who she's just lost) foundation garments. Suddenly she's thrown in with Peter and his mercurial wife Cara and despite not knowing how to meet people, make friends, and hold a conversation she manages to strike a summer friendship with the couple.
When it's done well, I'm happy to read a sun dappled and bittersweet recollection of a summer past, but there's something more going on here. From the very onset Fran remembers looking down from the upstairs peephole to a body, lying in the pinking water of a bathtub, eyes open and staring for too long.
Gothic elements from shadowy figures hovering in windows, mysterious noises and secret rooms are introduced. Cara seems deeply troubled and her and Peter's relationship is not what it seems on the surface. The two stories seem at odds but are pulled together beautifully keeping you off-balance and questioning like some high-literary thriller. Kazuo Ishiguro, meets Charlotte Bronte channelling Gillian Flynn. An unexpected surprise.