THE HOUSE WE GREW UP IN by LISA JEWELL

THE HOUSE WE GREW UP IN

BY LISA JEWELL

THE BLURB:-

When a tragedy breaks a family apart, what can bring it back together?

The Birds seemed to be the perfect family: mother, father, four children, a picture-book cottage in the country.

But when something happens one Easter weekend, it is so unexpected, so devastating, that no one can talk about it.

The family shatters, seemingly forever.

Until they are forced to return to the house they grew up in. And to confront what really took place all those years ago.

THE REALITY:-

It's only been days since my last book review, and there are two reasons for that: the first is that I have been off work with the lurgy- a combination of a throat/ chest infection and also issues created by losing a filling and developing a hairline crack in a back tooth, right into the gums. One emergency dental visit and a temporary filling later, a root filling and crown beckon. Or an extraction and an implant. A denture was also a mentioned option, but I don't take my teeth out and put them in a glass by the bed, thank-you-very-much...what would all of my boyfriends think? (Mind you, in some cultures women's teeth are pulled out so that they can give better blow jobs- go figure!) The second reason was that this book was un-putdownable.

But.... I have to say that this novel failed to touch me, even in my mad race through to the end. Why? Were certain issues too familiar? Or were they not fully developed to something more satisfying?

I didn't find the Bird children's upbringing perfect. In fact, it was a classic example of something looking wonderful from the outside but with a sickness at its very core. I didn't like the character of Lorelei and would have found her bloody annoying as a mother. She was a hoarder who liked to bring on the waterworks when challenged with regard to her affliction. I can certainly relate to the character of her eldest daughter, Meg, who's pedantically tidy, possibly as a rebellious reaction to her cluttered childhood. I have friends who keep mementoes for years, whereas I throw everything out once it's past its use. Birthday cards go into recycling a couple of weeks (if that) after the event and a newspaper gets read then chucked. I've been known to invite a friend round for dinner and start the washing up before they've finished, snatching the plate from them whilst they're still eating! My partner says I have OCD. I don't- I just hate clutter and mess, and that comes from having a mother who didn't like throwing things out, despite threatening to 'put her hand on her heart' and have a good clear-out. She wasn't an unhealthy hoarder like Lorelei, though- I think it was because she was brought up with a wartime mentality; therefore anything remotely useful was saved 'just in case'. I also hated the character of hanger-on, cuckoo in the nest Vicky, and worked out her lesbianism long before it was revealed. Well, this book obviously aroused some emotion in me. All in all, the other characters were an interesting (if raggle-taggle) bunch and the different dated aspects of the story slotted together well.

But- SPOILER ALERTS SUPREME COMING!- I didn't see Rhys's suicide hovering on the horizon and it was very interesting how that event had a knock-on affect on the lives of his family, probably because the issues surrounding it were never discussed. He was a bit pervy, and I can certainly relate to having such a brother. Why they behave as they do, I do not know... Frustration? Lack of affection? Confusion regarding what's appropriate and what's not? Muddling up sex and love? Once it became clear that this sad, disturbed little sixteen-year-old boy's sexual behaviour was directly responsible for him taking his own life, I galloped to the end- only to be disappointed. So; he tried it on with his mother, she pushed him away and walked out. I would have liked for this scenario to be developed into something MUCH more explicit and devastating, as it came across as tame and not worthy of a reason for him to do what he did.  

This book finished on a pleasant whimper rather than the devastating scream I would have liked, but I'm glad I read it.