🥀
While I haven't quite finished the series yet, as I still have the prequel to read, I have reached the end of the four Dollenganger siblings that this rather unhinged journey started with.
Chris and Cathy return to a rebuilt Foxworth Hall, which Bart has made sure resembles the original with eerie perfection. The intent is to stay until Bart's 25th birthday, which is fast approaching, which will lead to a symbolic rereading of the will (which we already know will not go smoothly, because nothing ever does for this family), after which Cathy, Chris and Cindy will move to Hawaii and presumably happily ever after in their delusional, incestuous bubble. But it's not so easy to leave that house, as they well know.
Bart is still teetering about on the edge of mental stability. He's full of rage, self-hatred, an alarming amount of misogyny, resentment toward every member of his family. He's a dizzyingly rich disaster, but he also tends to make points that actually makes sense.
"Don't you realize yet that you and your brother have always managed with your incestuous relationship to ruin and contaminate my life? I used to hope and pray someday you'd leave him, but it never happens. I've adjusted to the fact that the two of you are obsessed with one another and perhaps enjoy your relationship more because it is against the will of God."
Bart's issues boil down to the fact that he wants his mother to stop sleeping with her brother. Cathy thinks this is unfair, cruel, unreasonable. I agree with Bart. I agreed with him most, but not all of the time. His tendency to slut shame every person in existence while doing the same things he rages about tended to undermine his points a bit.
Now, I thought Cathy couldn't be usurped from her role as one of the most annoying, self-involved characters I have ever encountered, but she was easily overtaken by not one but two young women. Jory's wife Melodie, who I disliked immensely, and Chris and Cathy's adopted daughter Cindy, who I loathed. Every time she appeared on the page, to wail about the unfairness of her life I would cringe away from the page. She was completely insufferable, and I think it's a little unfair that she basically made it through the book unscathed.
"Momma," she wailed. "I'm not having a good time! It's been a terrible summer, the worst. I'm sorry Jory's in the hospital and he won't ever walk or dance again, and I want to do what I can for him, but what about me?" ---isn't it just so terribly unfair when your brother being paralyzed interferes with your summer plans? I should point out that her offer to do what she can comes to nothing. She's too self-absorbed to think about someone else for more than a few minutes at a time.
For all that I disliked her, at least Melodie managed to bring herself to make the occasional good observation:
"This house wants to use the people inside as a way to keep it living on forever. It's like a vampire, sucking our lifeblood from all of us. I wish it hadn't been restored. It's not a new house. It's been here for centuries. Only the wallpaper and the paint and the furniture are new, but those stairs in the foyer I never climb up or descent without seeing the ghosts of others..."
and:
"How can you condemn me, Cathy, when you have done even worse?"
I had forgotten that Cathy had been documenting these events. But she thinks, a little too optimistically given we are only part way through the story, 'My last book, I told myself. What more did I have to say? What else could happen to us?' --- well, Cathy, there are about 200 pages left, so a lot will still happen.
"It's tear-shaped, Cathy - for all the tears I would have cried inside if you had never let me love you." --- This is Chris, talking about a diamond necklace he has given Cathy. She finds it touching, complicatedly heartfelt. I find it cheesy and also very creepy. Especially since he didn't exactly ask her to let her love him. He raped her, something she romanticizes, that I simply cannot. Even without the incest part, every element of her relationship is wildly inappropriate. The rape, the fixation her has on her, the never ceasing pressure he put on her during the years when she tried to break away from him. Everyone in the book seems to think Bart is too hard on him (including Bart himself, by the end) but I think he lets him off too easily. Being a doctor does not absolve abysmal behaviour. Nor does being locked in an attic.
"That's Foxworth Hall. Once you enter its portals, you seldom are seen again."
'What was there about the human condition that made us hold on to tragedy with such tenacity and easily forgo the happiness we could reach readily?'
The conclusion of the book wrapped things up well, I thought. I had maybe hoped Cathy could finally live a life free from Chris, become her own person, but I also don't think that would really fit with the tone of the series. Her end felt right, sad as it was.
I've been giving this series a lot of thought now that I have finished reading the main series, and for all it's faults, the way it's often overwritten, the endless hysterical melodrama, there is something so fascinating about it all. In one sense it's an oddly fun series, but it's also rather horrific. In some ways it feels like a rather extreme metaphor for childhood trauma and how hard it can be to recover. There is a big focus on religion being twisted and used as a way to justify doing cruel things. The victims are often young children, trusting in adults who just don't care. There are toxic relationships, dreadful accidents, a family who never seem to grasp that you can enter into a relationship with someone who doesn't live in your immediate household (Bart and Jory's most significant relationships are with the same two women). While I despised Cindy, her obsession with herself meant she was the only family member who avoided this nonsense. I had thought she might end up with Bart (and this would be a step in the right direction, since at least they aren't related biologically) but I was pleasantly surprised when this didn't happen. Instead of continuing the family tradition of sleeping with his sister, he became a TV evangelist. I have to admit that made me laugh. I had a few theories about what would happen with Bart, and that certainly wasn't on the list!
The Lifetime films of the Flowers in the Attic series are available to watch on a local streaming service, and I'm going to give them a go. The only thing that might make me abandon the movies is that sometimes hysterical people are easier to read about than to have to listen to. I shudder just imagining having to listen to Cindy's complaining. But I'm curious as well --- it is possible to capture the addictive, creepy feeling the books give? I can't imagine they would be easy to adapt, but I sort of want to find out.