Five-year old Stephen's mother is dead, yet her spirit hovers over Stephen. It urges him to go down to the basement, where the wooden box etched with demons is kept. For Stephen is meant to be the demons' instrument to punish his mommy's persecutors. Original.
As a child, Mary Ann Mitchell wrote short stories, essays, and poetry. When she was twelve she sent her short stories to the night editor of The Journal American, who encouraged her to send more. Her mother intercepted the letters and forbade her from writing. Seems some of the family’s dark secrets were oozing onto Mary Ann’s written pages. Her writing became secret and sporadic. Once she completed graduate school, she became a civil servant. Years later her husband asked her what her dream career would be. She quickly answered that she always wanted to be a novelist.
I've read Mitchell long time ago and she left a generally good impression. More so than this story of witchcraft and the most disturbing mother son relationship since the Bates family would have done. She's a very good writer, but there are so many things off with the story that the book is basically sustained by her writing abilities alone. Overwhelming majority of adult characters are morally reprehensible, alarmingly so. Just selfish unpleasant hypocrites. The kids, especially the main one, are unbelievably mature. Beyond precociousness, there is just cleverness and vocabulary and emotional strength that stretches credibility for a 5 or 6 year old. The pacing is molasses like, it just goes on and on. For all that it's a major credit to Mitchell's talent that the book is entirely readable, there is humor and whimsy. It just isn't quite enough to support a book of that size. Entertaining enough, but just barely worth the time.
Took me awhile to drag myself through it. Could have been a much better book if it would have had quality editing. Lame dialogue and so many spelling/grammar errors.
My sister and I decided to read this together for an early Halloween and I honestly wish we hadn't. This book was difficult to get into. The beginning confused me and was hard to pay attention to, but I soldiered on.
BUT THEN.
Then came the explanations and the info dumps of why the mother killed herself. The father being a complete douchebag and cheating scum sucker. The son talking like an old man. The grandmother that had not a single decent or sensitive bone in her body. The longer I read, the more I hated everyone. I know I should've felt some pity for the mother/witch but it was hard when she had no issues using and manipulating her FIVE YEAR OLD son. I guess (?) I was supposed to feel sorry for the father when he gets attacked but I just wanted him to die. I didn't even care what happened to the son, because the longer he talked like an adult, the less believable he became. The only character I actively enjoyed and rooted for was Robin, the little boy's handicapped cousin.
I really wanted to like this book. But the only time I was happy was when it finally ended.