I don't think I've ever read a book with a more irritating writing style than this one. It was so vague and wishy-washy that I felt like throwing it across the room. Every chapter ended with either a question mark or an ellipsis. And all the questions inside brackets, the rhyming words, hearing her mother's voice (or was it just the wind sighing through the trees...?) -- it was maddening.
For example:
Her mother drove off a road on her way back to London from Elverson House. A blind bend, it must have been; another one, as treacherous as the way that led to Elverson. (Blind, mind, unkind, wrote a childish hand inside her head, from force of habit; round the bend, round the twist, round the houses...)
Doesn't it make you want to scream? Imagine 324 pages of that. Idk why I read it all.