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"The #1 book of 2009...Several sleepless nights are guaranteed."—Stephen King, Entertainment Weekly One postwar summer in his home of rural Warwickshire, Dr. Faraday, the son of a maid who has built a life of quiet respectability as a country physician, is called to a patient at lonely Hundreds Hall. Home to the Ayres family for over two centuries, the Georgian house, once impressive and handsome, is now in decline, its masonry crumbling, its gardens choked with weeds, the clock in its stable yard permanently fixed at twenty to nine. Its owners—mother, son, and daughter—are struggling to keep pace with a changing society, as well as with conflicts of their own. But are the Ayreses haunted by something more sinister than a dying way of life? Little does Dr. Faraday know how closely, and how terrifyingly, their story is about to become intimately entwined with his.… (more)
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Our narrator, Dr. Faraday, is summoned to Hundreds to care for the Ayres' maid, and his life is soon linked to that of the mysterious house. As a child, Dr. Faraday cast Hundreds Hall as a symbol of all that was missing from his working-class upbringing, and it pains him to see the once great house in disrepair. Mrs. Ayres, her son Roderick, and her daughter Caroline, barely make ends meet, and the failing estate takes its toll on them all. Then, as Dr. Faraday enters the lives of Ayres, strange things begin to happen. Is the house haunted? Are the Ayreses under some sore of "taint"? Or is their way of life just one more thing made redundant in post-WWII society?
Waters is certainly a very talented author, writing with fluid, descriptive prose. The Little Stranger is compelling, and yes, a little scary. Psychologically, Waters messes with the minds of her readers, just as she does with her characters. I'm still unsure of what was really occurring at Hundreds, and I don't think I will ever make up my mind - which is probably Waters' intention.
I've read several less-than-positive reviews of The Little Stranger, so let me take the opposing view. I loved this book. It might not be the most literary entry on the Booker Longlist, but it was certainly entertaining. I flew through the 460+ pages, and was totally satisfied by the ambiguous ending. Waters tone is perfect - like the inhabitants of Hundreds, I felt the creepy, watchful eyes of the house, and never knew what was coming next (though I knew it would be bad). Beyond the basic plot, The Little Stranger is also a portrait of an altered society and a dying class struggling to stay afloat - so really, maybe it is a "ghost" story after all.
He soon finds out, however, as he grows closer and more fond of the family, that that air of old gentry is fading fast. Now the Hundreds is a crumbling house, full of defects, moist, holes and sealed off rooms. It’s inhabitants, though gentry, can hardly afford to keep it inhabitable. In fact, this whole house now only houses four people. Mrs Ayres, fragile since the death of her first child, and full of memories of times gone. Rod, now head of the estate, but injured in the war and now struggling under the task. Betty, the servant – the only resident staff the family can afford. And level-headed but stubborn Catherine, who really dreams of another sort of life, and becomes close to Faraday.
Four people in a big, old, decaying house. And perhaps something else as well. A little stranger, wicked and petty and angry.
This is a real slow-burner of a ghost story. We’re well over a hundred pages in before something even remotely odd happens. And even after that, Waters keeps her hand close, working subtly and sparsely, with really only a handful of events. The tension and horror builds ever so slowly, and our narrator, even at the end of it all, doesn’t even believe in ghosts. If you need blood-spurting action and thrills, this is not for you.
Don’t get me wrong, this is a creepy book. The pushing of the Ayres to the limit and beyond is scary at times. But the focus is more on the characters, very thoroughly and believably drawn, and their relationships to each other. And to the shifting time; Waters does a beautiful job of capturing a post-WW2 England where the old landowning gentry is rapidly losing ground, and everything is still in rations. Toss Faraday with his class itch and strange attraction to this very house (becoming a less and less reliable fellow as the book progresses) into the mix, and you have a book that would be a good read even without the ghost. But which benefits greatly from that pinch on insecurity, madness and horror.
If you need quick payoff and clear resolution, look elsewhere. Otherwise, I really recommend this.
Dr. Faraday offers to treat Roderick's war injury with an experimental procedure, free of charge. And thus he inserts himself into the life of Hundreds Hall, and gets all up in their business. He worries endlessly about Mrs. Ayers, and begins to fancy Caroline. At least that's what he tells us, because Robert is the story's narrator. He spends more and more time at Hundreds Hall. When Mrs. Ayers decides to give a party, the first in years, he finds himself on the guest list -- unusual due to their different social classes. Things begin to unravel at the party, when the family dog Gyp bites a young guest and leaves her severely disfigured. Progressively weirder things happen, with progressively greater impact on the emotional well-being of the Ayers family members. And Hundreds Hall falls into an even greater state of disrepair. It appears some sort of ghost is terrorizing the household, and it's very creepy indeed.
I was constantly torn while reading this book. My literary mind wanted to believe there was a ghost because after all, this is a gothic mystery/ghost story. My rational, analytical side dismissed that as nonsense and looked for a rational, analytical cause for all these mishaps. When I finished the book, I still wasn't sure. The ending is such that Waters might have given me the rational answer, which gave the story a chilling psychological thriller angle. Or she didn't, and there was just a lot of inexplicable weird and creepy stuff going on.
If I could rewrite the ending, I know what I'd do. But I can't tell you; you'll have to read this book and form your own conclusions. I ended up docking my rating 1/2 star because it all left me rather frustrated.
Inside Hundreds Hall lives the Ayres family, who is struggling to keep their farm profitable after World War II. The once-grandiose home was falling apart – and taking the family down with it. We meet the family through Dr. Faraday, a country doctor who came to Hundreds Hall on a house visit. He starts to treat Roderick Ayres for his wartime knee injury, but it became apparent that Roderick was suffering from more – a type of severe mental stress that was affecting him day by day. Roderick claims something in the house was trying to hurt his family – and this something was leaving burn marks all over his room. Roderick’s delusions and paranoia rob him of all logic, and he becomes the house’s first victim.
As Dr. Faraday helps the family with Roderick’s illness, he gets closer and closer to Mrs. Ayres and Roderick’s sister, Caroline. The weight of caring for Hundreds Hall is great, and Dr. Faraday does what he can to ease their burdens. Despite his best efforts, the house continues to affect the family – first with the haunting of poor Mrs. Ayres and then Caroline. The whole time, the family believes the house was to blame. However, many in the community chalk it up to the Ayres’ reluctance to adjust to the new order of things in England. Others claim it was a “family taint” – a mental condition that struck all of the family members. Whatever the cause, the family was on an unstoppable downward spiral.
The Little Stranger, in a word, was spine-tingling. Certain scenes left me white-knuckled and near sleepless. It was the perfect book for cool autumn nights. Many were disappointed in the book’s ending, but I thought it was somehow appropriate. Waters left it as mysterious as Hundreds Hall itself. I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves the mysterious, the old and the creepy. The Little Stranger has it all.
Although Waters give a fine picture of the post-World War II decaying aristocracy and the working of a troubled mind, and her writing is fine enough, I just wasn't blown away by [The Little Stranger]. For me, it really dragged on at several points, and I was almost getting impatient to be done with it.
The Little Stranger is ostensibly the story of the Ayers family and their
Dr. Faraday is called to Hundreds one day to attend to the maid, Betty, and is introduced to the family. The scion, Roderick, has suffered horrific damage in the war and is struggling to keep the remains of the estate solvent. His mother is a relic of the Edwardian era and remains genteel amid the neglect. Caroline, the daughter, is described as sturdy and plain. Over the ensuing months Faraday becomes a frequent visitor at Hundreds and is privy to the family secrets. These involve what appears to be a ghost or poltergeist who proceeds to greater and greater feats of violence.
As the Ayers struggle against encroaching ruin and insanity, Dr. Faraday is always there to insist on a rational explanation for the inexplicable and to insist that Hundreds be saved. Caroline becomes the object of his devotion and they plan to marry.
The ending is ambiguous enough to keep you thinking about the book for quite awhile. There are many literary echoes in the book: Shirley Jackson (both We Have Always Lived in the Castle and The Haunting of Hill House) and Henry James' The Turn of the Screw are two that come to mind immediately. There were just too many boring sections and I was easily distracted from reading. That never happens with a really good book.
The Little Stranger is set in post-WWII Warwickshire, in one of those stately homes that are now all owned by the National Trust. The Hundreds has fallen on hard times, with not enough money or servants to keep the decaying house up. Dr. Faraday, a struggling GP, is called out there one day and meets the last of Ayres family and gets drawn into their struggles to keep their legacy. He becomes a family friend and a witness to their downfall, as each family member becomes sure there is something malevolent working through the house...
Waters is an amazing writer, able to do pretty much anything. Here, she develops a world in which the old hierarchies are crumbling, but the old class resentments remain. She writes in the voice of a doctor whose parents had to struggle to get him his education, who is all too aware that he lacks the connections of the other doctors and has been set apart from his working class roots. The menace rises slowly, and Waters takes her time to allow it to bubble to the surface naturally. This is a quieter book than Fingersmith, but no less rewarding.
brief summary, no spoilers:
It's just after WWII, in rural Warwickshire, and a Dr. Faraday has been called to Hundreds Hall, home of the Ayres family. The Ayres had been there over two centuries. Dr. Faraday himself (the narrator of this story -- depending on how you read this, you may or may not be able to trust him) had been there before, when he was a child. His mother had even been in service there, and had once, on a fete day, brought him in through the kitchen. Since then he's held the Ayres and Hundreds Hall in high esteem, as an example of what it must be like to be upper class. Now he's there to look in on one of the servants. As he enters the Hall, he is struck with its decline and decay. He meets the family -- there's Mrs. Ayres, who even though the family's had to sell off a lot of land to make ends meet and times have moved on, still in some measure considers herself continuing to live on in her old upper class world (you could say she's living in a bit of denial); Caroline, her daughter, who is plain, goes about looking frumpy, doing much of the work that a houseful of servants used to do in Hundreds' glory days, and stays at Hundreds for her mother's sake; and finally, there's Roderick, who has come home emotionally and physically changed from the war. The weight of the family's survival is on Roderick's shoulders and he struggles with his responsibility constantly. The family cannot just chuck it all -- they're kind of stuck, in part because of the old upper class attitude and their history there, and in part because most of their money is tied up in keeping what little they have left. There is a servant girl, Betty, who lives there around the clock, and another woman who comes in as well. Faraday is a doctor in the area, dreading the coming nationalizing of health services; he feels somewhat inferior to the other doctors because of his lower-class background. After Faraday's visits, he manages to insinuate himself into the life of the Ayres family, visiting there on a regular basis.
Things begin to go amiss when Mrs. Ayres decides to have a small party for her new neighbors the Hyde-Bakers, who have bought one of the nearby estates. (I loved this scene -- you really get a feel for what's happening in postwar England social-class wise -- the old landed gentry are on the decline while the up and comers are buying up their old estates, and the social attitudes leave a huge gap between the two groups. ) But the party marks the spot in which some pretty inexplicable (?) things begin to occur, and which are taking their toll on all of the people in the house. I won't say more so as not to wreck things.
Quite gothic in tone, very chilling, and well written, The Little Stranger is a very nice piece of writing. Each character stands out, and the atmosphere is incredibly claustrophobic. I liked it, actually, quite a bit. If you're looking for a chilling psychological read, it's outstanding. If you're looking for Tipping the Velvet, you're not going to get it. So just relax, enjoy and prepare to find yourself unable to stop reading.
Were the strange and tragic events at Hundreds Hall caused by the ghost of a dead child, a poltergeist linked to the presence
Both the family and their servants realise that it is the Ayres family who are being targetted. The servants may be teased and frightened, but it is only members of the family who are harmed. 'I haven't done nothing,' she said, 'and I haven't said nothing! I don't like to think of it, anyhow. It makes me frit if I think about it when I'm downstairs on me own. It isn't my bad thing, that's what Mrs Bazeley says. If I don't go bothering him, she says, he won't come bothering me.'
I found Doctor Faraday quite creepy. He worms his way into the household, and seems not to see how much of a burden the decrepit house is to the Ayres family. Or rather, he does not want to see it, and no matter how many times they mention it, he brushes their worries aside. I noticed that it is shortly after he hears that Rod may possibly stop him from using the short-cut across the park, that Faraday started to push for Rod being committed, either voluntarily or against his will. Rod has to be got rid of because he is the one who keeps reminding his mother and sister of Faraday's social inferiority, and I don;t think he would ever have countenanced Faraday courting his sister. So I am leaning towards the trigger being the arrival of Doctor Faraday; maybe his obsessions did lead to the creation of a phantasm, but maybe he gave events the odd push himself, either consciously or not.
Although it is hard to tell Faraday's real motivation because he is the one telling the story, and no doubt twisting it to put himself in a better light, I don't think he loves Caroline at all. I think that in order to raise his social status and get his hands on Hundreds Hall, he is willing to put up with her plain looks, but only as long as she conducts herself as a member of the landed gentry should. He seems to actively hate her whenever he sees her covered in dirt doing housework like a maid, His obsession with the decaying house that is in reality a millstone round the Ayres' neck is senseless. It is not as if he is 'new money' riding to the rescue, like Caroline's ugly but extremely wealthy great-grandmother; he is a struggling doctor from working-class roots, who doesn't even own his own house. With him as head of the family and refusing obdurately to sell up, Hundreds Hall would have continued to fall apart, eating up the family's remaining capital and leaving them with nothing.
But he still got what he wanted in the end.
The story is narrated by Dr. Faraday, a country doctor in Warwickshire, England, who relates his growing involvement with the local gentry, the Ayres family, and their ancestral home, Hundreds Hall. Faraday begins his tale appropriately enough, in the interwar war years, just after the close of World War I. The doctor recalls a celebration hosted by the Ayres’ for which the entire countryside turned out. During the festivities, he slipped into the hall to admire it and, taken with the place, pried a sculpted acorn from a wall: The first of many visits to the hall, though nearly 30 years would pass before he again set foot in the house. When Faraday does return, it is by accident--his partner, the Ayres’ usual physician, is unavailable--and set against the dreary backdrop of postwar England--of bleakness and rationing--which seem to be reflected in the steadily declining fortunes of the Ayres family and the much-transformed (and increasingly decrepit) Hundreds Hall. Thus begins Faraday’s tragic involvement with the Ayres and with Hundreds itself.
It’s from this humble acorn that a mighty oak doth grow. (Pardon the pun.) Waters cleverly settles upon first person narration, resulting in a subjective perspective of the story; the reader can never be sure what is real and what isn’t. Likewise, Faraday is a doctor, a professional man of science and an authority figure whose opinions carry weight, a fact of no little significance in a supernatural tale. After all, whom would you believe: Roderick Ayres, the stressed family scion and shell-shocked World War II vet, or the steady if bland Dr. Faraday? The choice is clear--most of the time, anyway.
Waters beautifully captures postwar England. Faraday’s voice is spot-on; if it’s not the voice of a postwar middle-aged Englishman, it’s what we in the twenty-first century imagine that voice to have been. (American readers, such as myself, will be much taken with what we perceive as quaint twentieth century Anglicisms.) But Waters’ strength is not limited only to Faraday’s voice. Waters can paint a scene, and invites the reader into the English countryside, the cheerful little homes in the village and, especially, the sprawling, decaying manse of Hundreds Hall. She is a keen observer of human nature, and the main characters are all well-drawn, though Faraday, of course, is the most complex of all.
The Little Stranger is not just a ghost story but also a commentary on the British class system. Faraday, a doctor born of a laboring family, tends to the Ayres, fading gentry, and the place they call home. The mysteries of the book involve not only the ghosts that may or may not roam Hundred’s halls, but also those that haunt postwar Britain. The reader might not be entirely surprised by the ways in which the story turns out, but he or she will be unsettled--and isn’t that point? And all accomplished with nary a zombie to be seen.
I picked up this book for a number of reasons but also as an introduction for me to the works of Waters as I haven't read any of her books before now.
Told from the point of view of Dr. Faraday, I loved this Gothic 'atmospheric' tale of the life, family and curiously baffling events that occur at Hundreds Hall over the course of one year. The story has a beautifully slow, suspenseful build to it and watching the events unfold through Dr. Faraday's eyes with his deeply rooted scientific-based rational mind kept me reading late into the night. Not that I agreed with Dr. Faraday and his viewpoints of the events but this was one of those times where my disagreement with his assessment motivated me to read further. I felt there was a nice balance to the story with the characters, the scenery and the plot blending perfectly. Waters maintains her control over the story - some may find the story too controlled and as such, not to their liking - but I found the slow, steady, almost ploddingly build worked really well for me as a reader and added to my overall enjoyment of the story. I am now on the hunt for similar books to this one and [The Thirteenth Tale], another favorite of mine.
And 'the little stranger', indeed, turned out to be what/whom I thought it to be. It made sense, it fit perfectly........but I didn't like it. Not that I didn't like it in the read. I think it had to be that way.
The story is one of a doctor who comes to the village and in his work, he falls for the sister of one of his patients. Eventually they plan to marry but things occur and continue to occur that keep putting the wedding at bay.
The house of his patient is one of the old 'great houses' and I think the good doctor falls in love with the house as well even though it is in ill repair. Things fall through in the end, literally..............and we are rather back where we began but with our head still in the story.
The entire book is rather a head-game with the characters and with the reader as well. I liked it a great deal and would have loved it if the character, Caroline, had been more believable to me. Still and all it was a wonderful read and I highly recommend it.
It is all these things as it charts the decline of an old country house and how the family who live there are affected.
But I thought this book was mostly about the narrator. He is the village doctor whose mother was once a maid at the
This book is a great story, well-told, a bit of history, a bit of spookiness and a fascinating character study.
One you want to read again to see what you missed first time round.
The book is narrated by Dr. Farraday, a country doctor
The physical clues to the deadly mystery haunting Hundreds Hall are maddeningly ambiguous. A key thrown into the snow, smudged burn marks that slowly proliferate on the library's walls and ceiling, childlike scribbles that are discovered on woodwork and behind furniture, the sound of whistles and tinkling bells emanating from the Hall's ancient servant-summons system -- all of these can be dismissed by a bit of agile rationalization, and Dr. Farraday does his best to calm the growing fears of his upper crust clientele.
The true suspense in Waters' novel is mental, in the best gothic tradition of "The Turn of the Screw." The psychological tension within and between characters is at once subtle and overpowering. Dr. Farraday, an "up-from-his-bootstraps" local success story, is simultaneously charmed with the outdated eloquence of the Ayres family and revolted at his lapdog attempts to worm his way into their gentrified circle. (In one of the book's telling passages, Farraday looks at his image in a mirror before he visits the Hall and worries whether he looks like a balding grocer.) His initial tepid appraisal of Caroline gradually grows into a physical obsession; the tiny line of sweat that always appears on her upper lip after walking the family dog slowly transforms from turnoff to turn on. Caroline's animal vitality runs hot and cold with Farraday; she alternately urges him on and pushes him away with fear and disgust. Mrs. Ayres admits to Farraday that she has always been indifferent to Roderick and Carolyn; the only child she ever loved with maternal passion was Susan. Roderick feels that the house itself is a monster that can never be given enough repair and upkeep; the burden of his family's legacy is slowly consuming him.
Is it possible that repressed sexual desires and bottled-up mental torment can ultimately call forth "a little stranger" who wreaks havoc on its victims? If so, what is the nature of this "little stranger?" Is it based in the mind, or in reality, or somewhere in between? It is Sarah Waters' artful working of the "in between" that makes her book so memorable. Waters' refusal to spell out the answer forces each reader to reach his or her own conclusion based upon their own internal stranger. Sarah Waters' novel will prompt a little tickle on the back of your neck that will refuse to go away. An evil that is never decisively identified is difficult to decisively ignore. Don't forget your night light!
From that first visit, Dr. Faraday slowly becomes part of the family's life. He is called on often to treat Roddie. Something ails Roddie besides his physical injuries. The young servant girl insists there is something 'wrong' with the house. Caroline begins to wonder this as well, as more misfortune befalls the family.
" This house is playing parlour games with us, I think. We shan't pay it any mind if it starts up again."
She confides in Dr. Faraday and enlists his help.
" I don't know what's going on here, any more than you do. But I'd like to help you figure it out. I'll take my chances with the hungry house, don't worry about that."
This is a tale with a 'gothic' feel to it, a ghost story of sorts. But it doesn't involve overt frights or over the top scenarios. Instead it is all the more delicious for the subtle and insidious manner in which the story unfolds. Everyday items and occurrences suddenly take on a sinister bent.
The interplay between the characters is just as much a part of the story. Dr. Faraday is a bit of an enigma. He is from a lower social class than the Ayres. At times he is made painfully aware of this. At other times, the Ayres family seems to depend on him excessively. Is he there for himself, for personal gain or simply to be in the house again? The other main character Caroline is also a mystery. At times she is playful, other times aloof, practical yet playful. What does she really want from the good Doctor? Many of the other characters give us a glimpse into the social life and mores of the time period.
Waters is a master of building a story. The tension grows and we are left wondering if the house is indeed perpetrating these calamities or is it the residents of the house?
A more minor quibble: the narrator sometimes uses turns of phrase that weren't current in the 1950s. Whenever this happened, it threw me out of the story into musing on when the particular expression actually did come into usage.
Sarah Waters has a truly expert touch with British post-war decline, and she mixes it up with a touch of the supernatural in this slow-paced but strangely gripping novel. Dr. Faraday (his first name is never given as far as I know) watches the decline of the
An attempt to bring some new money into the family fortunes ends in a tragedy at which Faraday is present as a somewhat uncomfortable half-guest, and thereafter he’s present to witness the deterioration of the son of the house who believes he’s the victim of some kind of haunting. Roderick, the son, never comes across as a fully rounded character to me; there’s a touch of the caricature in him, the upper class war relic whose nerves are brittle and temper short, furious at the futility of it all. Waters does a much better job with his sister Caroline—awkward, ungainly, dutiful and true-hearted, achieving a kind of beauty through the eyes of a man who’s no catch himself and knows it.
Many other reviewers have said that this isn’t really a ghost story at all, and I’m inclined to agree. It’s an atmospheric painting of a story, supplying the occasional frisson but never really getting off the ground in terms of action. And yet there’s something about Waters’ writing that sucks you in and holds you tight—she has that trick of making you feel uncomfortable and worried that if you don’t continue to read the story, it’s going to do something nasty behind your back. This is the novel to read when you’re holed up in a remote cabin in the woods or on a wet weekend at the seaside in a slightly fusty but pleasant hotel, and everyone else has gone for a walk and won’t be back for hours. Swallow at one gulp with a pot of strong tea and a couple of scones with jam and clotted cream.
Dr. Faraday is summoned to Hundreds Hall to tend to the ill housekeeper and is reminded of his previous visit, when he was all of ten years old. Through repeated interactions with the hall's residents, the Ayres family, Faraday manages to insinuate himself into their lives. Mrs. Ayres, the matriarch, and her children, 27 year old Caroline and 23 year old Roderick, live in the dilapidating estate house with their teenaged housemaid Betty. Faraday's mother had been a housekeeper in the hall years before. Mrs. Ayres' first daughter Susan died in the hall's nursery in childhood. From these elements, Waters brews an insightful, penetrating account of class tension, envy, jealousy, lovers' quarrels and, just possibly, a ghost or some other malevolent presence. The family are slowly driven mad by the hall, both mentally through the possible hauntings and physically by the shear enormity of the situation - trying to maintain an ungodly large estate on dwindling income.
The novel brilliantly evokes its time and place, give us characters to care about and places them in harm's way. The suspense is slowly, almost excruciatingly built up. The doctor remains skeptical, the family members slowly succumb to the madness the house induces. And in the end, the ghost is masterfully revealed causing the reader to reassess everything revealed previously. Creepy, lyrical and lonesome, The Little Stranger makes the perfect October's evening read.
Dr. Faraday has loved and admired the Hundreds Hall manor ever since he visited it during his childhood. Now with the war behind, and the future on the horizon, the house that he once admired from afar has
I don't know what I expected when I picked up The Little Stranger, but what I got was a page turning, chilling story of a haunted house, complete with characters whose sanity is questionable and a paranormal mystery that pushes the envelope of what logical reason dictates is possible. The house itself was a magnificent character which added to the overall effect of one walking through those abandoned halls, listening to sounds which shouldn't be heard and seeing things which shouldn't be seen. Water's writing was simple, almost curt, and in this case, I appreciated the style. It lended well to the story rather than detracting from it. I was completely drawn in and immersed into a story that continually kept my attention rapt with tensions high and revelations sprinkled throughout. Suffice to say, my first experience with Waters was a memorable and unforgettable one! Highly recommended.
The Little Stranger reminded me very much of Shirley Jackson's fiction. Full of psychological suspense and tension, the novel will make you wonder - is the Ayres' family's residence, Hundreds Hall, haunted or not? Is there a taint on the Ayres family as some in the village suggest? Are they all mad? Dr. Faraday does not seem quite sure, and neither will you, dear reader! Once you start reading this book, you will not be able to put it down. However, sleep with a night light on - you'll need it! If you liked previous Gothic summer hits such as The Thirteenth Tale or The Historian, then check out this title!
Waters is a mature writer, a master of language, and someone who uses
I have nothing but praise for her writing. Now to turn to the other aspect I always evaluate with any work of fiction, the story telling.
Again, I think that she is skillful in her ability to use language to tell her story. The problem I have--and it is a severe one--is that I dislike the genre she’s chosen this time.
There are certain genres I avoid--romance (predictable and boring), fantasy (predictable and boring), chick-lit, (REALLY boring), and ghost stories/horror (predictable and boring). I don’t like them. Unfortunately, The Little Stranger falls into the last category, the ghost story.
I found the plot predictable and boring, almost totally uninteresting. What kept me going was the writing. I have to say that I thought the epilogue was extremely well done and is a perfect example of the way Waters writes to make her characters far more than they appear to be within the plot.
I loved Affinity, which I thought was interesting from beginning to end, although I understand it’s classified as “gothic”. OK, bring me more Sarah Waters gothic. But I will avoid any more books of hers (or anyone else’s) that is in the ghost story category, because I think her talents are wasted in that genre.
I don’t know what to say--perhaps highly recommended for those who like ghost stories or who are interested in seeing how Waters is maturing as a writer.
At once a story of love (of sorts), post-war recovery, the fall of the British gentry, horror, and psychological uncertainty, Sarah Waters has her hands full! She navigates the fictional minefield beautifully, however, and The Little Stranger was a book I couldn't put down. The horror in this story is subtle, brilliantly woven among the threads of loss, disappointment, hope, and love. Every character was well-developed and compelling, from the two main characters, to the ancillary servants and family members, to the mysterious house itself. I highly recommend this book to fans of Shirley Jackson, Stephen King, and other masters of suspense.
Just finished: I'm full of ambivalent feelings. Most of the time i was complaining that the pace and tone are stiff and plodding, that the characterisation two
Now, as I look back on my concentrated read (started it yesterday morning) I feel that the pace and tone were just right, and that I can forgive the clunky way of including great evocative description , because of how thought provoking and memorable the whole book has been.