Book Review: Flowers in the Attic

This cover is really gross

Flowers in the Attic by VC Andrews

🌺🌺🌺/5

Cathy and Chris and Cory and Carrie have the perfect life—a beautiful mother and a loving father, a lovely home and the best toys ever. But when their father tragically dies, their mother takes them to their grandparents’ house, where their entire existence becomes a secret. Living in the attic, the children begin to wonder—are they ever going to escape?

Holy shit.

Hol-yyyyyy shiiiiiiiiiiit.

Holy shit.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Did.

I.

Read?!?!

To help me process this review, I’m going to tap in my favorite clubber and trend-seeker—Stefon!

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Look, I came into this book with absolutely no clue what it was about beyond children living in an attic and some salacious sex shit that spawned the sexual awakenings of millions of women in the 80s and 90s. I knew of this book. I knew of VC Andrews. I shelved the incredibly dog-eared and battered paperback of this book in my high school library dozens of times. I just never read it, because “children living in an attic” just never really sounded super intriguing.

And yet.

Those rumors you’ve heard of this book?

The whispers from people who are like, “omg this book. This brother-fucking book.”

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My wife, who normally doesn’t spare a second glance at what I’m reading because 1) she doesn’t care and 2) the book changes every minute, gave this book a triple take and was like, “Is that Flowers in the Attic? That’s some fucked up shit honey.” She saw the movie as a child and it scarred her.

So what is the book about? Well, for starters:

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IT. HAS. EVERYTHING.

INCEST.

RAPE THAT’S NOT RAPE BUT STILL IS TOTALLY RAPE.

MORE INCEST.

WEIRD FAMILY DYNAMICS.

FAKED FAMILY DEATHS.

ACTUAL FAMILY DEATHS.

CHILD ABUSE.

WHIPPINGS.

CHILD NEGLECT.

EMOTIONAL ABUSE.

CUCKOO RELIGIOUS NUTS.

DID I MENTION THE INCEST?!

PUBERTY.

POWDERED SUGAR DONUTS.

NOT-INCEST-BUT-STILL-SUPER-GROSS INTERACTIONS.

SEXUALIZED CHILD PANTIES.

SEXUALIZED EVERYTHING.

POISONING.

CREEPY OVERBEARING OLDER BROTHERS.

FAMILY SECRETS.

MORE FAMILY SECRETS.

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And no, that’s not even the HALF of it

Look, this is not a well-written book. The writing is shit. But I can totally see what people flocked to Fifty Shades of Grey, particularly if they cut their teeth on this brother-fucking book.

Because it is addictive as fuck.

I couldn’t stop reading.

I couldn’t stop. I had to know. And then I had to read it over again, because I was like, “No fucking way. This was published in 1979 there’s not fucking way.” And yet it happened.

So anywho, go into this knowing that you’re going into a train wreck.

It’s like a poorly written Verity and Wuthering Heights got together and were like, “Let’s make a baby, but let’s make sure that that baby is locked in the attic for three years and forced to abstain from everything while talking nothing but sex to them as they go through puberty. And let’s make another baby and throw that baby up in the attic too and see what happens.”

And like a train wreck, you won’t be able to look away.

So do you want to read it?

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You know you do!

Stefon, everybody!

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