51. The Uninvited – Dorothy Macardle
Dinner parties! Ghosts! A painting model named Caramel! Endless weeping! Play writing! Dramatic gestures! These are the things people heard me complaining about while I tried to finish reading this book on a variety of lunch breaks at work. I requested it from a university in the same system as the one I work for and my first clue that my experience with it wouldn’t be great was that it came in a manila folded box. That means it’s fragile and no one wants to have it bound. I, usually, do not circulate items like that, even if I know they’re coming to librarians like me, who respect the books, because it’s hard not to damage items like that further, no matter what you do with them – especially if you drop them in irritation, which, I did not do. Not once. Not even on accident. The cover was completely loose, which made for a complicated and delicate reading experience, almost as complicated and delicate as everyone in the story seemed to think Stella the teenager was. She’s lost her mother, and she won’t stop showing up at her old house – she should probably lie down, and oh, p.s. since I, narrator and a grown man playwright, have moved to the country with my sister, I think I should date this hapless teenager who has lost her mother (that part happens later on, but still, I squinted in displeasure at it). The séance scenes were pretty amusing though, I will give Macardle that.
The Uninvited is also a movie and I saw some comparisons with The Haunting somewhere that made me interested in reading this book, but, it just wasn’t for me. It’s nowhere near as foreboding as The Haunting of Hill House. I hope that if I ever get around to seeing the movie it’s more like The Haunting, which is good, and that the comparison wasn’t based around there being ghosts in a house with ladies in both stories.
Oh, and I could not help but want someone to scream “STELLLLAAA!” ala Stanley Kowalski every time someone called for the hapless teenager as she wandered into dangerous situations looking for her ghost-mom.