The House of Dead Maids by Clare B. Dunkle was meant to be a throw-away book. What I mean by that was it was meant to be a book to get my mind off the Stieg Larsson books, something to cleanse the palette, as it were. I wanted something short, spooky, and out of my pile. I thought this would suffice.
It was short. It was spooky, but not enough to keep my attention.
I blame Stieg Larsson.
It was a neat premise, a prequel retelling of Heathcliff’s past. That would be the Heathcliff of Wuthering Heights infamy. This book dispels part of the mysterious past of Heathcliff’s youth, a part of his life that most Bronte fans may or may not want to know. The writing is Gothic and moody, chock full of many two dollar words like eldritch and churlish and virulent. However, it didn’t do the trick. I did not finish it, I wanted to, but I ran out of attention span. Much to my dismay.
Overall, 2 out of 5 stars. I wanted it to be better than it was.
– Follow the Reader –