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The Upstairs House
A provocative meditation on new motherhood—Shirley Jackson meets The Awakening—in which a postpartum woman’s psychological unraveling becomes intertwined with the ghostly appearance of children’s book writer Margaret Wise Brown.
There’s a madwoman upstairs, and only Megan Weiler can see her.
Ravaged and sore from giving birth to her first child, Megan is mostly raising her newborn alone while her husband travels for work. Physically exhausted and mentally drained, she’s also wracked with guilt over her unfinished dissertation—a thesis on mid-century children’s literature.
Enter a new upstairs neighbor: the ghost of quixotic children’s book writer Margaret Wise Brown—author of the beloved classic Goodnight Moon—whose existence no one else will acknowledge. It seems Margaret has unfinished business with her former lover, the once-famous socialite and actress Michael Strange, and is determined to draw Megan into the fray. As Michael joins the haunting, Megan finds herself caught in the wake of a supernatural power struggle—and until she can find a way to quiet these spirits, she and her newborn daughter are in terrible danger.
Using Megan’s postpartum haunting as a powerful metaphor for a woman’s fraught relationship with her body and mind, Julia Fine once again delivers an imaginative and “barely restrained, careful musing on female desire, loneliness, and hereditary inheritances” (Washington Post).
There’s a madwoman upstairs, and only Megan Weiler can see her.
Ravaged and sore from giving birth to her first child, Megan is mostly raising her newborn alone while her husband travels for work. Physically exhausted and mentally drained, she’s also wracked with guilt over her unfinished dissertation—a thesis on mid-century children’s literature.
Enter a new upstairs neighbor: the ghost of quixotic children’s book writer Margaret Wise Brown—author of the beloved classic Goodnight Moon—whose existence no one else will acknowledge. It seems Margaret has unfinished business with her former lover, the once-famous socialite and actress Michael Strange, and is determined to draw Megan into the fray. As Michael joins the haunting, Megan finds herself caught in the wake of a supernatural power struggle—and until she can find a way to quiet these spirits, she and her newborn daughter are in terrible danger.
Using Megan’s postpartum haunting as a powerful metaphor for a woman’s fraught relationship with her body and mind, Julia Fine once again delivers an imaginative and “barely restrained, careful musing on female desire, loneliness, and hereditary inheritances” (Washington Post).
304 pages, Hardcover
First published February 23, 2021
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15586 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 589 reviews
February 12, 2023
I mean, I had to, right?
July 15, 2021
“The Upstairs House” is a strange, bizarre and unsettling novel that examines postpartum depression. Thankfully, I didn’t have this struggle, and I thank my lucky stars. Author Julia Fine adds dimension by integrating the main character’s professional life.
New mother, Megan Weiler, was involved in writing her PhD dissertation regarding children’s literature when she became pregnant. Megan struggled with writing it before she got pregnant. After having her baby, Clara, Megan’s dissertation gains a realistic role in her motherhood life.
Megan begins her decline with reality when she hears noise coming from upstairs. There is no upstairs. While alone with her baby, she finds a “door” and a mysterious woman living in an apartment upstairs. Megan eventually identifies her as Margaret Wise Brown. Ms. Fine adds footnoted segments about noted children’s author Margaret Wise Brown’s (Runaway Bunny; Goodnight Moon and many others) life and the development of children’s literature. I found these tidbits of information fascinating, as I have not considered the origins of tactile children’s literature, or the origins of children’s literature.
Ms. Fine is a noted feminist author, and as such, she included Margaret Wise Brown’s own struggles as a woman in a male dominated world. Additionally, Wise Brown was involved in a lesbian relationship with an actress Michael Strange and that relationship is examined in this story.
Megan’s reality becomes blurry. Her husband and devoted sister notice oddities in Megan’s behavior. We, the reader, are in Megan’s head. We see what she sees and it’s very scary.
I enjoyed the structure of adding historical information into a contemporary issue. Postpartum depression is a real issue with few institutions that can completely care for women who have this struggle. Plus, I learned more about Margaret Wise Brown’s own struggles as a professional author.
I highly recommend this novel, but I’m not sure it’s for the general reader.
New mother, Megan Weiler, was involved in writing her PhD dissertation regarding children’s literature when she became pregnant. Megan struggled with writing it before she got pregnant. After having her baby, Clara, Megan’s dissertation gains a realistic role in her motherhood life.
Megan begins her decline with reality when she hears noise coming from upstairs. There is no upstairs. While alone with her baby, she finds a “door” and a mysterious woman living in an apartment upstairs. Megan eventually identifies her as Margaret Wise Brown. Ms. Fine adds footnoted segments about noted children’s author Margaret Wise Brown’s (Runaway Bunny; Goodnight Moon and many others) life and the development of children’s literature. I found these tidbits of information fascinating, as I have not considered the origins of tactile children’s literature, or the origins of children’s literature.
Ms. Fine is a noted feminist author, and as such, she included Margaret Wise Brown’s own struggles as a woman in a male dominated world. Additionally, Wise Brown was involved in a lesbian relationship with an actress Michael Strange and that relationship is examined in this story.
Megan’s reality becomes blurry. Her husband and devoted sister notice oddities in Megan’s behavior. We, the reader, are in Megan’s head. We see what she sees and it’s very scary.
I enjoyed the structure of adding historical information into a contemporary issue. Postpartum depression is a real issue with few institutions that can completely care for women who have this struggle. Plus, I learned more about Margaret Wise Brown’s own struggles as a professional author.
I highly recommend this novel, but I’m not sure it’s for the general reader.
January 28, 2021
Chills. I found this book about a haunting to be haunting — unsettling, nerve-racking, worrisome, strange. I fretted over the characters when I wasn’t reading it and ached for them when I was. Loved it so very much.
March 1, 2021
From the synopsis: A provocative meditation on new motherhood—Shirley Jackson meets The Awakening—in which a postpartum woman’s psychological unraveling becomes intertwined with the ghostly appearance of children’s book writer Margaret Wise Brown.
My thoughts: The Upstairs House literally gave me the chills. It’s eerie and foreboding. I worried about the characters. Megan is a new mom, and she’s often alone with her newborn. This book is imaginative and unique, one that will make you think and feel. I highlighted, I tabbed, I re-read passages as Megan navigates this world of the horrors haunting her house, alongside the challenges of new motherhood.
I received a gifted copy.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.Jennifer tarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
My thoughts: The Upstairs House literally gave me the chills. It’s eerie and foreboding. I worried about the characters. Megan is a new mom, and she’s often alone with her newborn. This book is imaginative and unique, one that will make you think and feel. I highlighted, I tabbed, I re-read passages as Megan navigates this world of the horrors haunting her house, alongside the challenges of new motherhood.
I received a gifted copy.
Many of my reviews can also be found on my blog: www.Jennifer tarheelreader.com and instagram: www.instagram.com/tarheelreader
March 1, 2021
Megan Weiler is experiencing postpartum physical and mental drainage and exhaustion. She cannot come to terms with having a baby to care for and is undergoing guilt over her unfinished dissertation on mid-century children’s literature.
Margaret Wise Brown, mid 20th century author of children’s books, who is the main focus of Megan’s thesis, moves upstairs and causes racket that no one else seems to acknowledge but Megan.
Megan becomes entangled in the tumultuous relationship of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange, these mid 20th century artists who seem to haunt her and her daughter.
The prose is poignant and intentional filled to the brim with brilliant metaphors and quotable heartbreaking truths of the woman’s experience.
I truly appreciated the effort to shed light to the experiences of women suffering from postpartum disorders and to voice their struggles. However, I felt miserable while reading this book and If that was the author’s intent then well done she totally achieved that. But for me it was anxiety inducing to read a portrayal of motherhood at its worst possible outcome, however true and close to their experiences that may be for some people. I think it just wasn’t the book for me or I simply wasn’t in the correct mindset to appreciate what it was trying to convey. From the synopsis I gathered that it was going to be more of a thriller and I was completely wrong on my assumptions.
Also I just didn’t really care for Megan’s excerpts of her thesis and the life story of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange. I found those sections of the book boring and completely uninteresting to me.
Margaret Wise Brown, mid 20th century author of children’s books, who is the main focus of Megan’s thesis, moves upstairs and causes racket that no one else seems to acknowledge but Megan.
Megan becomes entangled in the tumultuous relationship of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange, these mid 20th century artists who seem to haunt her and her daughter.
The prose is poignant and intentional filled to the brim with brilliant metaphors and quotable heartbreaking truths of the woman’s experience.
I truly appreciated the effort to shed light to the experiences of women suffering from postpartum disorders and to voice their struggles. However, I felt miserable while reading this book and If that was the author’s intent then well done she totally achieved that. But for me it was anxiety inducing to read a portrayal of motherhood at its worst possible outcome, however true and close to their experiences that may be for some people. I think it just wasn’t the book for me or I simply wasn’t in the correct mindset to appreciate what it was trying to convey. From the synopsis I gathered that it was going to be more of a thriller and I was completely wrong on my assumptions.
Also I just didn’t really care for Megan’s excerpts of her thesis and the life story of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange. I found those sections of the book boring and completely uninteresting to me.
March 12, 2021
This was absolutely wild.
Megan is a new mother and is being haunted by Margaret Wise Brown (author of Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny), who is building a house inside the walls of Megan's house.
OR IS SHE?
As someone who suffered from postpartum depression, some of this hit way close to home. I think, had it not been sixteen years since I went off the rails, I would not have been able to read this. As it was, it was definitely upsetting, especially the way her family treated her. The truthful, and utter uselessness, of family telling her she looked terrible and then NOT OFFERING TO WATCH THE BABY SO SHE COULD SHOWER OR SLEEP made me want to smack them all! Gah! (My family was much more supportive.)
And I loved the concept of it. I loved the deep dive into the life of Margaret Wise Brown and her lover, Michael Strange, who I had never heard of. I ended up on Wikipedia about halfway through the book, and wow, Fine has done her homework. I had no idea! And I own the Leonard Marcus biography that inspired a lot of this book! It just got bumped waaay up the to read list, I must say!
For a while I wasn't sure I would like this book, but I ended up enjoying it immensely, even as it freaked me out. I don't know if it's categorized as horror, but it read like horror to me. And I loved the author's note at the end particularly, talking about her inspiration, and her sources, and reiterating how badly we need better postpartum care in this country.
Megan is a new mother and is being haunted by Margaret Wise Brown (author of Goodnight Moon and The Runaway Bunny), who is building a house inside the walls of Megan's house.
OR IS SHE?
As someone who suffered from postpartum depression, some of this hit way close to home. I think, had it not been sixteen years since I went off the rails, I would not have been able to read this. As it was, it was definitely upsetting, especially the way her family treated her. The truthful, and utter uselessness, of family telling her she looked terrible and then NOT OFFERING TO WATCH THE BABY SO SHE COULD SHOWER OR SLEEP made me want to smack them all! Gah! (My family was much more supportive.)
And I loved the concept of it. I loved the deep dive into the life of Margaret Wise Brown and her lover, Michael Strange, who I had never heard of. I ended up on Wikipedia about halfway through the book, and wow, Fine has done her homework. I had no idea! And I own the Leonard Marcus biography that inspired a lot of this book! It just got bumped waaay up the to read list, I must say!
For a while I wasn't sure I would like this book, but I ended up enjoying it immensely, even as it freaked me out. I don't know if it's categorized as horror, but it read like horror to me. And I loved the author's note at the end particularly, talking about her inspiration, and her sources, and reiterating how badly we need better postpartum care in this country.
March 6, 2024
This book is like getting invited out for a nice hike through the woods with a good friend except you forgot to bring your own shoes so you have to borrow your friend's which after about two hours you realize have all these little pebbles in them but you can't seem to find a good place to stop and shake them out and your friend's just so gung-ho out about the whole damn hike that you just keep walking and walking and the weather is good and the views within the forest are nice but then hours later when its all over and you're driving home you can't help but think that even though its nice to get out into the woods now and then the walk really was a bit too long and your feat actually really hurt and you're left with the sneaking suspicion that your good friend might be a bit of an asshole.
June 20, 2021
How NOT to turn your PhD dissertation into a published book.
August 12, 2021
Was this a historical fiction about Margaret Wise Brown—author of the beloved classic Goodnight Moon—and former lover, the once-famous socialite, and actress, Michael Strange? They seemed pretty evil to me as ghosts? I liked the parts about Micheal and Margaret, but Megan was ..
Too manic!
Too overwordy!
Too downwardly spiraling!
Too depressing!
This thing just went on and on at the pace of a strung-out meth freak! I found myself reading at a manic pace to see if it was fearful, but I never got that feeling. In fact, I missed creepy and even suspenseful.
Megan is writing her dissertation about American Children's literature and upon the birth of her daughter is haunted by Margaret first and then Michael, and then they possess the newly born Clara, daughter of Megan. I found most of the story platitudinous and largely disappointing.
2,3 Stars
Happy Reading!
Too manic!
Too overwordy!
Too downwardly spiraling!
Too depressing!
This thing just went on and on at the pace of a strung-out meth freak! I found myself reading at a manic pace to see if it was fearful, but I never got that feeling. In fact, I missed creepy and even suspenseful.
Megan is writing her dissertation about American Children's literature and upon the birth of her daughter is haunted by Margaret first and then Michael, and then they possess the newly born Clara, daughter of Megan. I found most of the story platitudinous and largely disappointing.
2,3 Stars
Happy Reading!
March 1, 2021
a ghost story, a love story. all exorcisms are really sapphic breakups. I loved this!!!!!
“In ghost stories, we generally discover what the haunting signifies. By the end of the story or the novel or the film we know who died and why they’re restless, we know that somebody disturbed some ancient orb or moved into a toxic house. But in the story of my life I couldn’t say why I was haunted, why I needed these women, in this moment, and why they needed me. There is a room, and in it are objects, and I suppose that is enough.”
“In ghost stories, we generally discover what the haunting signifies. By the end of the story or the novel or the film we know who died and why they’re restless, we know that somebody disturbed some ancient orb or moved into a toxic house. But in the story of my life I couldn’t say why I was haunted, why I needed these women, in this moment, and why they needed me. There is a room, and in it are objects, and I suppose that is enough.”
September 23, 2020
"I had so much control; I had no control at all."
When Megan brings her infant daughter home, she's tired and overwhelmed, ambivalent about the intense physical and psychological demands of new motherhood, and also haunted by her abandoned dissertation. When author Margaret Wise Brown starts showing up in Megan's life, it's almost a welcome reprieve from the monotony of childcare - never mind that Margaret is long dead. But when Michael Strange, Margaret's tempestuous and unpredictable lover, shows up too, Megan's life begins to unravel.
I'm blown away by how Fine balances the tender, ordinary details of motherhood - the message boards, the late-night loneliness, the breast pumps and diaper changes - with an ominous and unsettling ghost story. And the insights into the publishing career of Margaret Wise Brown have given me an entirely new appreciation of the children's books she left behind. This is also an important book for its exploration of postpartum depression/psychosis, which so often goes unacknowledged beneath the illusion that new motherhood is all cozy bliss. Fine viscerally captures what it's like to have huge new responsibilities while also feeling completely vulnerable yourself, and how painfully simple it is to slip through the cracks in full view of your loved ones. This book is going to stick with me.
When Megan brings her infant daughter home, she's tired and overwhelmed, ambivalent about the intense physical and psychological demands of new motherhood, and also haunted by her abandoned dissertation. When author Margaret Wise Brown starts showing up in Megan's life, it's almost a welcome reprieve from the monotony of childcare - never mind that Margaret is long dead. But when Michael Strange, Margaret's tempestuous and unpredictable lover, shows up too, Megan's life begins to unravel.
I'm blown away by how Fine balances the tender, ordinary details of motherhood - the message boards, the late-night loneliness, the breast pumps and diaper changes - with an ominous and unsettling ghost story. And the insights into the publishing career of Margaret Wise Brown have given me an entirely new appreciation of the children's books she left behind. This is also an important book for its exploration of postpartum depression/psychosis, which so often goes unacknowledged beneath the illusion that new motherhood is all cozy bliss. Fine viscerally captures what it's like to have huge new responsibilities while also feeling completely vulnerable yourself, and how painfully simple it is to slip through the cracks in full view of your loved ones. This book is going to stick with me.
September 22, 2020
Hoo, boy. I read this on maternity leave with my first kid and it was tough. It hits so close to home--the experiences Fine captures here are visceral, vivid, terrifying. An exploration of a new parent's greatest fears realized. The book is spooky and captivating--the kind I had to put down several times because of how hard it got to me. I think it's because the supernatural elements here are woven into the mundane so stealthily that the reader starts to feel as dislocated / out-of-body as the main character. Anyway, read this but proceed with caution if you're a brand-new parent.
March 1, 2021
i’ve been impatiently, desperately, waiting for this book since the moment i finished what should be wild and saw the first description for this on goodreads, which combined everything i could wish for in a book—hauntings, motherhood, the legacies of modernist writers, bonus ghost sex. obviously i loved it—the claustrophobic horror, the reality and surreality of having a child, the humor and wickedness in megan’s thoughts (whom i loved, deeply), the empathy, the narrative structure, the deliberate weight each word possessed. if you don’t read this book we can’t be friends anymore.
April 5, 2021
I initially received an ARC of The Upstairs House and I was very excited to read it, because anybody who knows me knows that What Should Be Wild REMAINS one of my go-to recommendations for everybody - I think it is close to a perfect book.
Unfortunately, The Upstairs House came into my life at exactly the wrong time early last year. While I was yearning to be a mother, my younger sister was about to give birth. I am thrilled for her, I love her and my niece, but it was a difficult period for me emotionally. I am, besides somebody who still very much feels the emptiness of the not-yet-a-mother position, the abandoned daughter of a mother with mental health issues, a victim in some ways, somebody with a victim complex in others, who chose to reject motherhood and maternal instincts regardless of what that might mean for her daughters. I set the book down. The ARC expired. My niece was born. My mother stopped talking to my sister after briefly loving her granddaughter, and to her own mother.
I pre-ordered the book. I was coming to it now, still yearning, reckoning more and more with the fear that bad mothering can be a genetic thing. What if it was not just her, what if it was not that we were unloveable, but that it was a thing that she had left me with, that my own children would be reckoning with these feelings thirty years from now, should I be lucky enough to have them?
The Upstairs House feels like it takes the stories of girls like me, girls who watched their mothers fall apart under the weight of motherhood, who became something like mothers themselves to those mothers in some ways, takes their feelings of abandonment, their fears about their own motherhood or potential motherhood, and reckons with them, turning them into horror and love and a grotesque imagining of how both of those things can exist alongside each other. Julia Fine is a master wordsmith, her language incredibly evocative because she chooses the perfect moment, the perfect scene, to include in a single sentence a word that scintillates and turns the entire passage to gold. Her writing is immediate and thoughtful, both demanding so much of you emotionally while allowing you to move through entire pages with ease before tempting you to shift your thinking again to the logical part of your brain rather than with the flood of emotions she built up through the previous scene. They are like commas, allowing you to breathe and try to find your bearing, come to grips with what you've been presented with, before plunging you down into the bathtub with both hands again.
Julia's Megan is both frustrating, frustrated, and somebody to whom it is easy to become devoted. You want to protect her from her sister's insensitivity, her mother's narcissism, her father's indifference, her husband's benign cluelessness. You can feel the injustice of it even as you want to shake her for her foolishness. It is a scathing, elegant commentary on the solitude of early motherhood, of the way that society expects far too much, and yet also too little of new mothers. It lays bare the lack of support while criticizing the systems that force mothers into a motherhood bereft of any of their former self, systems that excoriate mothers for trying to hang on to any of that former self if it does not explicitly benefit the baby. The framing of the story, the pairing of despairing dissertation work, early post-partum wilderness, and the phantom love affair of two women deceased sixty years ago leaves the reader indignant, moved, and ultimately beguiled. There is no choice but to love, deeply, the three women wronged in different ways, violent and vicious in different ways.
The ending, in particular, made me feel anxious, moved me, laid bare the empty not-yet-a-mother, not-anymore-a-mothered-daughter feelings that have sat heavily with me for the last six or seven years, made worse as so many others around me navigate motherhood, navigate daughterhood with a mother who has a new and precious milestone to once again mother through (how do we learn to mother if not from our own mothers?), and ultimately made me feel less alone in those circumstances, in the fears that accompany them, and in the whisper of hope that not being alone in it might, somehow, solve it if only it's possible to find a way to commune about them with others honestly. I wish Megan had not let that bird fly from her hand, but it's selfish of me to feel that way.
Unfortunately, The Upstairs House came into my life at exactly the wrong time early last year. While I was yearning to be a mother, my younger sister was about to give birth. I am thrilled for her, I love her and my niece, but it was a difficult period for me emotionally. I am, besides somebody who still very much feels the emptiness of the not-yet-a-mother position, the abandoned daughter of a mother with mental health issues, a victim in some ways, somebody with a victim complex in others, who chose to reject motherhood and maternal instincts regardless of what that might mean for her daughters. I set the book down. The ARC expired. My niece was born. My mother stopped talking to my sister after briefly loving her granddaughter, and to her own mother.
I pre-ordered the book. I was coming to it now, still yearning, reckoning more and more with the fear that bad mothering can be a genetic thing. What if it was not just her, what if it was not that we were unloveable, but that it was a thing that she had left me with, that my own children would be reckoning with these feelings thirty years from now, should I be lucky enough to have them?
The Upstairs House feels like it takes the stories of girls like me, girls who watched their mothers fall apart under the weight of motherhood, who became something like mothers themselves to those mothers in some ways, takes their feelings of abandonment, their fears about their own motherhood or potential motherhood, and reckons with them, turning them into horror and love and a grotesque imagining of how both of those things can exist alongside each other. Julia Fine is a master wordsmith, her language incredibly evocative because she chooses the perfect moment, the perfect scene, to include in a single sentence a word that scintillates and turns the entire passage to gold. Her writing is immediate and thoughtful, both demanding so much of you emotionally while allowing you to move through entire pages with ease before tempting you to shift your thinking again to the logical part of your brain rather than with the flood of emotions she built up through the previous scene. They are like commas, allowing you to breathe and try to find your bearing, come to grips with what you've been presented with, before plunging you down into the bathtub with both hands again.
Julia's Megan is both frustrating, frustrated, and somebody to whom it is easy to become devoted. You want to protect her from her sister's insensitivity, her mother's narcissism, her father's indifference, her husband's benign cluelessness. You can feel the injustice of it even as you want to shake her for her foolishness. It is a scathing, elegant commentary on the solitude of early motherhood, of the way that society expects far too much, and yet also too little of new mothers. It lays bare the lack of support while criticizing the systems that force mothers into a motherhood bereft of any of their former self, systems that excoriate mothers for trying to hang on to any of that former self if it does not explicitly benefit the baby. The framing of the story, the pairing of despairing dissertation work, early post-partum wilderness, and the phantom love affair of two women deceased sixty years ago leaves the reader indignant, moved, and ultimately beguiled. There is no choice but to love, deeply, the three women wronged in different ways, violent and vicious in different ways.
The ending, in particular, made me feel anxious, moved me, laid bare the empty not-yet-a-mother, not-anymore-a-mothered-daughter feelings that have sat heavily with me for the last six or seven years, made worse as so many others around me navigate motherhood, navigate daughterhood with a mother who has a new and precious milestone to once again mother through (how do we learn to mother if not from our own mothers?), and ultimately made me feel less alone in those circumstances, in the fears that accompany them, and in the whisper of hope that not being alone in it might, somehow, solve it if only it's possible to find a way to commune about them with others honestly. I wish Megan had not let that bird fly from her hand, but it's selfish of me to feel that way.
November 15, 2021
The theme veers quickly off into an unusual, but fascinating trip into an imaginary life with the 1940s authors and poets, that is so real that our narrator, Megan seems to be interacting with them. I wasn’t too sure just how Julia Fine was going to carry this theme throughout an entire book and still keep the reader on track. Why is Megan hearing strange noises? How does she seemingly connect with what can only be ghost-like images? The forays into the 1940s lives of these characters really didn’t captivate me very much since I was more interested in what would happen to Megan in the present. I was also amazed by how nobody around Megan seems to notice that she was struggling. They criticized her and urged her to get out more and even suggested that she to get “help,” but instead of offering assistance or even compassion, they just seem angry with her. Megan’s oblivious husband and critical sister were additional frustrating characters for me.
Actual rating 2.5 stars
Actual rating 2.5 stars
February 17, 2021
This novel is the tale of Megan, a mother who gives birth to her daughter, Clara, and is suddenly haunted by her “upstairs neighbor” Margaret, who is preparing for the return of her lover Michael. Of course, both of those people, only Megan and Clara can see.
I didn’t find this story to be haunting, riveting or even the least bit creepy. I was concerned it would be postpartum depression or psychosis, but the backstory and the plot just didn’t do it for me.
I found the main character to be just slightly tolerable and the absence of her husband so frequently just too convenient and weird. 1.5 stars from me.
I didn’t find this story to be haunting, riveting or even the least bit creepy. I was concerned it would be postpartum depression or psychosis, but the backstory and the plot just didn’t do it for me.
I found the main character to be just slightly tolerable and the absence of her husband so frequently just too convenient and weird. 1.5 stars from me.
November 20, 2020
I don't have children, but after reading this postpartum-influenced ghost story (I'm sure I will revise the wording later but right now it works), I felt like I did. I got into that character's head real quick. For good measure, throw in the ghost of children's author Margaret Wise Brown and you have a novel with a premise so unusual that I'm sure no one can say they have read anything like this before. I also really liked that it is do different from her first book, which I loved. Definitely enjoyed
November 26, 2025
"Is it a ghost?" vs "Am I going crazy?" is one of my favorite themes. The Upstairs House tries to lean on this trope, but it wasn't really a ghost story and it didn't feel like it went deep enough into psychosis either.
there were a few reasons this book wasn't an enjoyable read for me:
-I was really frustrated with the structure of the narrative. It was often broken up by dissertation-like chapters, historical flash backs, and sudden perspective shifts. It pulled me out of the story and broke my reading momentum. It hard to get back into the flow when we would switch back to the central story of the haunting/psychosis.
-The pacing. There was some interesting moments early on where we see the main character Megan starting to experience this unreality. I was hooked and waiting for it to deepen and develop even further into madness. But it quickly fizzles out (probably due to the over emphasis of Margaret/Michaels life in the second half of the book and less on Megan's experience). I wanted the stakes to rise as the story progressed but it stalls.
-I felt like I was reading two different books at times, and one was far more interesting than the other. I wished it would have picked a focus.
-The main character Megan frustrated me. She was passive and didn't have a strong voice. It was irritating to not see her ask for what she needed, especially when it came to her relationship with her husband. There's really no resolution there either when it comes to that relationship and I think the way it was built up as a mostly toxic relationship there needed to be some sort of reckoning between them, but it ends with Megan just submitting. She doesn't ever get a voice.
-I wondered why of any dead historical figure the author chose Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange. I didn't get the connection between their lives and Megan's experience. And the theme of Michaels "anger" often being the thing haunting Megan was really bizarre to me. It all just felt really random.
-The ending. I don't mind an ambiguous ending, I think when it is well done it can be incredibly memorable and leave me wanting to read the whole thing over again, but this did none of that. As I touched on, Megan doesn't have a strong character arc where at the end she gets a voice, a purpose, a healing, some sense of agency. It was just a flat and lackluster. We see her daughter grown up to about the age of 12, and what their life looks like. Then there is a slight twist at the end. It didn't work for me. I felt it was random and unsatisfying.
reading notes:
21% Im confused on the chapters that are written like a nonfiction history lesson ...are these supposed to be the main characters dissertation she's writing?
I also dont know anything about motherhood but dealing with major depressive periods you got to make things easier for yourself. Like, if you hate breast feeding then give the baby the formula. It makes no sense to me why you would suffer when you dont have to.
33% Starting to get really weird and concerning in a good way. DONT leave the baby with Margaret omggg 😅 i liked the metaphor too of as long as they dont eat food in Margarets apartment, like persephone eating in the underworld and getting stuck there, which means she has to feel something is wrong.
Why do those "dissertation" chapters end in the middle of a sentence?
Im also a bit confused on this Michael person who is a woman who is associated with Margaret and apparently her anger is haunting the main character for some reason? Feels kind of random but I think im just not getting how it's supposed to all connect or the symbolism behind it
I dont like these chapters that jump to Margarets life. It breaks my reading momentum.
66% Im really starting to hate this. That whole scene where her husband asks her how shes doing and she tells her husband nothing was so irritating. His patronizing attitude and her passivity. Im also bored with the story. It hasn't progressed, it's actually gotten slower. The most interesting part so far was when the main character goes to the bar with her sister and leaves her baby alone at home with a ghost/figment of her imagination. That was at like 30%. Since then it's been droning on in circles not going anywhere new or deeper into that madness. Other than reading about herself on some message boards and going on an on about Michael not liking stuff. Im so bored. And im really tired of the parts where Margaret is the main character... what is that adding to the story of this woman with depression going into psychosis or being haunted. Its a totally different story, belongs in a different book. Pick one and stay in the lane.
74% this road trip is so random
100% final thoughts: slow, boring, anticlimactic, (this was not an integral plot point but it depressed me so much at the end her assessment of her marriage with her husband and acknowledgment that he may be cheating on her and she doesn't really love him but she doesn't really care anymore because he pays the mortgage. what a nightmare, their whole relationship just seemed like not a single good things about it, like he contributed to her downward spiral the whole novel and did nothing but patronize her, then refuses couples therapy when Megan asks for it. But the ending implies Megan is essentially trapped in this emotionally empty marriage and it made me really angry. I really wanted a stronger resolution for this character.)
Spoilers:
-Because the teacher said Clara always spoke in old timey ways was this a hint that Clara was a reincarnation of Michael or Margaret then?
- Clara seeing the turquoise door at the end and talking to Margaret.. Does that mean that the entire thing was not Psychosis but was really a haunting?
there were a few reasons this book wasn't an enjoyable read for me:
-I was really frustrated with the structure of the narrative. It was often broken up by dissertation-like chapters, historical flash backs, and sudden perspective shifts. It pulled me out of the story and broke my reading momentum. It hard to get back into the flow when we would switch back to the central story of the haunting/psychosis.
-The pacing. There was some interesting moments early on where we see the main character Megan starting to experience this unreality. I was hooked and waiting for it to deepen and develop even further into madness. But it quickly fizzles out (probably due to the over emphasis of Margaret/Michaels life in the second half of the book and less on Megan's experience). I wanted the stakes to rise as the story progressed but it stalls.
-I felt like I was reading two different books at times, and one was far more interesting than the other. I wished it would have picked a focus.
-The main character Megan frustrated me. She was passive and didn't have a strong voice. It was irritating to not see her ask for what she needed, especially when it came to her relationship with her husband. There's really no resolution there either when it comes to that relationship and I think the way it was built up as a mostly toxic relationship there needed to be some sort of reckoning between them, but it ends with Megan just submitting. She doesn't ever get a voice.
-I wondered why of any dead historical figure the author chose Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange. I didn't get the connection between their lives and Megan's experience. And the theme of Michaels "anger" often being the thing haunting Megan was really bizarre to me. It all just felt really random.
-The ending. I don't mind an ambiguous ending, I think when it is well done it can be incredibly memorable and leave me wanting to read the whole thing over again, but this did none of that. As I touched on, Megan doesn't have a strong character arc where at the end she gets a voice, a purpose, a healing, some sense of agency. It was just a flat and lackluster. We see her daughter grown up to about the age of 12, and what their life looks like. Then there is a slight twist at the end. It didn't work for me. I felt it was random and unsatisfying.
reading notes:
21% Im confused on the chapters that are written like a nonfiction history lesson ...are these supposed to be the main characters dissertation she's writing?
I also dont know anything about motherhood but dealing with major depressive periods you got to make things easier for yourself. Like, if you hate breast feeding then give the baby the formula. It makes no sense to me why you would suffer when you dont have to.
33% Starting to get really weird and concerning in a good way. DONT leave the baby with Margaret omggg 😅 i liked the metaphor too of as long as they dont eat food in Margarets apartment, like persephone eating in the underworld and getting stuck there, which means she has to feel something is wrong.
Why do those "dissertation" chapters end in the middle of a sentence?
Im also a bit confused on this Michael person who is a woman who is associated with Margaret and apparently her anger is haunting the main character for some reason? Feels kind of random but I think im just not getting how it's supposed to all connect or the symbolism behind it
I dont like these chapters that jump to Margarets life. It breaks my reading momentum.
66% Im really starting to hate this. That whole scene where her husband asks her how shes doing and she tells her husband nothing was so irritating. His patronizing attitude and her passivity. Im also bored with the story. It hasn't progressed, it's actually gotten slower. The most interesting part so far was when the main character goes to the bar with her sister and leaves her baby alone at home with a ghost/figment of her imagination. That was at like 30%. Since then it's been droning on in circles not going anywhere new or deeper into that madness. Other than reading about herself on some message boards and going on an on about Michael not liking stuff. Im so bored. And im really tired of the parts where Margaret is the main character... what is that adding to the story of this woman with depression going into psychosis or being haunted. Its a totally different story, belongs in a different book. Pick one and stay in the lane.
74% this road trip is so random
100% final thoughts: slow, boring, anticlimactic, (this was not an integral plot point but it depressed me so much at the end her assessment of her marriage with her husband and acknowledgment that he may be cheating on her and she doesn't really love him but she doesn't really care anymore because he pays the mortgage. what a nightmare, their whole relationship just seemed like not a single good things about it, like he contributed to her downward spiral the whole novel and did nothing but patronize her, then refuses couples therapy when Megan asks for it. But the ending implies Megan is essentially trapped in this emotionally empty marriage and it made me really angry. I really wanted a stronger resolution for this character.)
Spoilers:
-Because the teacher said Clara always spoke in old timey ways was this a hint that Clara was a reincarnation of Michael or Margaret then?
- Clara seeing the turquoise door at the end and talking to Margaret.. Does that mean that the entire thing was not Psychosis but was really a haunting?
April 19, 2021
This is my "so good it hurts" favorite 2021 read so far. Julia Fine has managed to incorporate so many elements into this smart, surprising page-turner:
--including Goodnight Moon author Margaret Wise Brown as a character (a truly interesting and empathetic portrait) without being restricted by mere facts or the need to be exhaustive
--wordplay, in this case, etymological references that are amusing, wise, fascinating
--delightful creepiness
--use of fantastical elements to capture the raw, confusing experience of early motherhood, including exhaustion and depression
--use of a secondary text, a failed thesis in small fragments. (The whole "failed dissertation" subgenre never fails to amuse me. See, my latest novel. But see also: my mother, when alive, was a therapist who specifically counseled "ABD/All But Dissertation" PhD candidates, traumatized by their lack of thesis completion.)
My husband read this first and couldn't shut up about how good it is. ("Stop telling me! I'm going to read it!") And now I can't stop shutting up about it, including in upcoming recommendations for Mother's Day books that capture real motherhood, including the tears and the unreality.
--including Goodnight Moon author Margaret Wise Brown as a character (a truly interesting and empathetic portrait) without being restricted by mere facts or the need to be exhaustive
--wordplay, in this case, etymological references that are amusing, wise, fascinating
--delightful creepiness
--use of fantastical elements to capture the raw, confusing experience of early motherhood, including exhaustion and depression
--use of a secondary text, a failed thesis in small fragments. (The whole "failed dissertation" subgenre never fails to amuse me. See, my latest novel. But see also: my mother, when alive, was a therapist who specifically counseled "ABD/All But Dissertation" PhD candidates, traumatized by their lack of thesis completion.)
My husband read this first and couldn't shut up about how good it is. ("Stop telling me! I'm going to read it!") And now I can't stop shutting up about it, including in upcoming recommendations for Mother's Day books that capture real motherhood, including the tears and the unreality.
August 9, 2021
The Upstairs House is a Hitchcockian horror story. The Upstairs House is a ghost story, a haunting. The Upstairs House is a chilling tale of postpartum psychosis.
Holy fuck was this book scary, made all the more terrifying by the fact that I’m a couple of months out from having my first baby and making the transition to motherhood, the completely upending shift of identity, that I watched Megan experience as she weathered the “fourth trimester” with her daughter Clara. I couldn’t put this book down and I enjoyed it SO much but if you’re in your third (or fourth!) trimester, maybe do yourself a favor and hold off on this one for now. It’s beautifully written and intelligent and fast-paced and really something unique, but man, it’s scary.
Edit 8/9/21: coming back to this review to say 1) I’m still thinking about this book all these months later and 2) I read Goodnight Moon to my daughter every night and it is so incredibly creepy to me every time now. (As if the great green room wasn’t creepy enough on its own, the “goodnight nobody” page is dark af!)
Holy fuck was this book scary, made all the more terrifying by the fact that I’m a couple of months out from having my first baby and making the transition to motherhood, the completely upending shift of identity, that I watched Megan experience as she weathered the “fourth trimester” with her daughter Clara. I couldn’t put this book down and I enjoyed it SO much but if you’re in your third (or fourth!) trimester, maybe do yourself a favor and hold off on this one for now. It’s beautifully written and intelligent and fast-paced and really something unique, but man, it’s scary.
Edit 8/9/21: coming back to this review to say 1) I’m still thinking about this book all these months later and 2) I read Goodnight Moon to my daughter every night and it is so incredibly creepy to me every time now. (As if the great green room wasn’t creepy enough on its own, the “goodnight nobody” page is dark af!)
April 19, 2021
This book is strange and beautiful and completely original. I underlined an absurd number of wonderful sentences, but what I most loved was how physical the book is (odd, since it’s a book about a ghost.) But the physicality of motherhood always strikes me as the thing we can't hold onto as our kids get older, and some of that’s a lovely and missed physicality—like that boneless weight of a baby sleeping on your shoulder—but a lot of it is gross and painful, the sour milk smell and rolls of fat that shouldn’t be there and unwashed hair and aching back. Fine perfectly captures the complicated world of having a new baby...and she throws in some weird wonderful twists. I mean, you surely know before you pick this up whether you're inclined towards a book with the ghost of Margaret Wise Brown. If you are, you'll find this a strange, dark, compelling trip.
August 3, 2020
"I do think that sometimes it takes a recalibration to confront the obvious. It takes an escape, then a return. And this was the obvious that I'd been skirting, the ugliness I'd been avoiding, the shard of glass in the corner of my eye: I wasn't sure that I enjoyed being a mother.
But maybe I did" (230).
But maybe I did" (230).
August 21, 2020
julia fine writes so very beautifully — i have pages and pages of this book highlighted. haunting, clever, inventive. i loved it.
thank you edelweiss+ and the publishers for the arc.
thank you edelweiss+ and the publishers for the arc.
September 28, 2021
This is an intriguing gothic horror that's very well written. It's about a pregnant doctoral student writing her thesis on Margaret Wise Brown and children's books. She sets aside her thesis after giving birth and, almost immediately, she begins to experience postpartum psychosis, though she doesn't realize it. Margaret Wise Brown moves into a room upstairs, except there is no room there. Then the ghost of Michael Strange—the woman Margaret Wise Brown was in a relationship with for many years—starts haunting her.
Much like You Let Me in by Camilla Bruce, it's never quite clear what's real or imagined. It's not quite as uncanny as You Let Me In, or disturbing, but it plays with similar ideas of real vs. imagined and mental disorders.
I had PPD, and sometimes I feel a little frustrated by portrayals of PPD in fiction, which never resemble my own experiences. This led me to be frequently frustrated with the novel, which isn't the author's or the story's fault. Only dramatic stories are told about PPD, which makes it difficult to recognize or admit as having. Every parent experiences PPD differently, and the narrator's was definitely a combination of depression and psychosis, and that is important to relate. It's clear the author has children. I hope for more books with women experiencing the realities of childbirth and PPD so that more woman can recognize their symptoms.
And it's an interesting foray into Margaret Wise Brown's life!
I listened to the audiobook, which was a compelling read.
Much like You Let Me in by Camilla Bruce, it's never quite clear what's real or imagined. It's not quite as uncanny as You Let Me In, or disturbing, but it plays with similar ideas of real vs. imagined and mental disorders.
I had PPD, and sometimes I feel a little frustrated by portrayals of PPD in fiction, which never resemble my own experiences. This led me to be frequently frustrated with the novel, which isn't the author's or the story's fault. Only dramatic stories are told about PPD, which makes it difficult to recognize or admit as having. Every parent experiences PPD differently, and the narrator's was definitely a combination of depression and psychosis, and that is important to relate. It's clear the author has children. I hope for more books with women experiencing the realities of childbirth and PPD so that more woman can recognize their symptoms.
And it's an interesting foray into Margaret Wise Brown's life!
I listened to the audiobook, which was a compelling read.
February 24, 2021
The Upstairs House by Julia Fine is a surreal yet honest story about motherhood, identity, and family.
It focuses heavily on the postpartum period in a particular woman’s life, which will strike a chord with many. Even as a woman without children, I was pulled in by the main character’s worries and fears. Her feelings were visceral, heightening the intensity of the story. Sure, it’s a little ‘out there’ in its execution, but its themes are grounded in reality.
I wouldn’t call this a horror novel, per se. It’s more unsettling – especially for new mothers or mothers-to-be (I would assume). Other than that, I’d say the story is literary fiction, with some history mixed in. I was fascinated by the lives of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange, and I appreciated the research that was included.
Megan’s apathy toward her husband bothered me somewhat, but you can’t deny it’s honest and raw.
Overall, this was a well-written, unique, and emotional story.
**Thank you Harper Books for the gifted review copy!
It focuses heavily on the postpartum period in a particular woman’s life, which will strike a chord with many. Even as a woman without children, I was pulled in by the main character’s worries and fears. Her feelings were visceral, heightening the intensity of the story. Sure, it’s a little ‘out there’ in its execution, but its themes are grounded in reality.
I wouldn’t call this a horror novel, per se. It’s more unsettling – especially for new mothers or mothers-to-be (I would assume). Other than that, I’d say the story is literary fiction, with some history mixed in. I was fascinated by the lives of Margaret Wise Brown and Michael Strange, and I appreciated the research that was included.
Megan’s apathy toward her husband bothered me somewhat, but you can’t deny it’s honest and raw.
Overall, this was a well-written, unique, and emotional story.
**Thank you Harper Books for the gifted review copy!
April 21, 2021
Straight off the shelf of "wtf is this book even about"....is it postpartum psychosis? Is it a ghost story? Is it about a postpartum mom trying to write her dissertation? From the start of the book, I gathered early on that the main plot is about the mother having postpartum psychosis. But then the story was spun in such a way that I thought perhaps she was being haunted by a ghost. Bottom line...it was confusing and with such a sensitive subject that this author had the power to shed light on, she very much dropped the ball. One the characters in the story within the story is Micheal. This character was referred to as a female, but also there were a few times that the character was referred to as a male. Who the heck was the publisher on this book?!! It clearly was a mistake and this person was a female. Ugh. Disappointed. Don't waste your time on this one.
July 13, 2021
Interesting premise but I got lost in the pages. There are two stories going on here. One is the MC, having just had a baby, in the hospital and then soon home with her new confusing, odd shaped addition to the family.
The other story is about a female poet and her angsty, needy ways. She has an assistant who is "building a house for her" and you learn a lot about their relationship, individual issues and exhusbands.
These two stories just didn't work for me. I found the interjections disjointed and I never seemed to find the flow. The main story felt voyeuristic instead of informational and I don't think I closed the book feeling like I understood the complexities of postpartum or any of the hormonal and psychological issues facing new mothers. The ending just seemed to wash all the new information away. I wish I'd liked it more.
The other story is about a female poet and her angsty, needy ways. She has an assistant who is "building a house for her" and you learn a lot about their relationship, individual issues and exhusbands.
These two stories just didn't work for me. I found the interjections disjointed and I never seemed to find the flow. The main story felt voyeuristic instead of informational and I don't think I closed the book feeling like I understood the complexities of postpartum or any of the hormonal and psychological issues facing new mothers. The ending just seemed to wash all the new information away. I wish I'd liked it more.
November 6, 2022
This book was gifted to me and I don’t think I would have picked it up for myself. It is a bit outside of my comfort zone. But I was really awe-struck by the seamless way Fine weaved Margaret Brown’s biography with the hallucination’s of Megan. And the pacing of the book was so, so good. But. Wowza. Hard to read and I still feel very unsettled even after finishing it!
March 6, 2021
I loved it. And somehow the author’s note was my fave part.
January 28, 2021
"'In the 16th century the word baby meant the tiny image of oneself seen in the pupil of another person's eye.'"
This book. This book was SO GOOD. How many thrillers give you chills and also bring you to tears? My copy is full of highlights because the writing is so beautiful and concise and insightful and full of depth. And original AF. I loved this book, I loved everything about it.
Megan and Ben have just had their first child, Clara. Prior to Clara's birth, Megan was working on her dissertation about mid-century children's literature. So when the late Margaret Wise Brown, the legendary children's author, suddenly appears to have moved in upstairs, behind a turquoise door that wasn't there before, Megan hardly bats an eye. Megan and Margaret become friends and Margaret tells Megan she is waiting for Michael--Michael being Michael Strange, whom Margaret had a tumultuous love affair with prior to her death. Michael was an arrogant, rich socialite who thought of herself as an artist and disparaged Margaret's success. So when strange things begin to happen in Megan's condo--windows open of their own accord, fans turn on and lights brighten and dim, Megan attributes these events to Michael's ghost.
As Megan struggles to find peace in her new role as a mother and simultaneously understand what Michael wants from her and Clara, the tensions just builds and builds. This novel is a haunting look into postpartum life, the relationship between a mother and her child (and a child to her mother) and the legacy we leave behind.
*Please note I am quoting from uncorrected advanced review copy and changes may be made prior to publication.
This book. This book was SO GOOD. How many thrillers give you chills and also bring you to tears? My copy is full of highlights because the writing is so beautiful and concise and insightful and full of depth. And original AF. I loved this book, I loved everything about it.
Megan and Ben have just had their first child, Clara. Prior to Clara's birth, Megan was working on her dissertation about mid-century children's literature. So when the late Margaret Wise Brown, the legendary children's author, suddenly appears to have moved in upstairs, behind a turquoise door that wasn't there before, Megan hardly bats an eye. Megan and Margaret become friends and Margaret tells Megan she is waiting for Michael--Michael being Michael Strange, whom Margaret had a tumultuous love affair with prior to her death. Michael was an arrogant, rich socialite who thought of herself as an artist and disparaged Margaret's success. So when strange things begin to happen in Megan's condo--windows open of their own accord, fans turn on and lights brighten and dim, Megan attributes these events to Michael's ghost.
As Megan struggles to find peace in her new role as a mother and simultaneously understand what Michael wants from her and Clara, the tensions just builds and builds. This novel is a haunting look into postpartum life, the relationship between a mother and her child (and a child to her mother) and the legacy we leave behind.
*Please note I am quoting from uncorrected advanced review copy and changes may be made prior to publication.
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