Frank H. (perryfran) reviewed on 10/3/2018 + 1223 more book reviews

Really a bizarre and claustrophobic tale from the opening paragraph to its conclusion. "My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead." And so, Mary Katherine (Merrikat) goes on to narrate her story of how she and her sister Constance and Uncle Julian live their lives in the old Blackwood mansion at the edge of town after the rest of the family died from poisoned blackberries. Constance is put on trial for the murders and acquitted but was it really her who killed most of the family? The identity of the poisoner is pretty obvious from the start but the story is more about the implications of what happened than who committed the crime. It's a story of isolation from the people of the nearby village who make up wicked poems about the Blackwood girls. And then cousin Charles comes to visit which really throws their existence off kilter. Charles is obviously only after the Blackwood fortune and Merrikat wishes him dead on numerous occasions.

This was really a haunting tale and Merrikat is someone not easily forgotten. She seems much younger than her 18 years, living a life filled with fantasies and dreams. I remember reading Jackson's short story THE LOTTERY back in high school. It's one of those stories not easily forgotten. This novel is in a similar vein.

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