Sarah Perry writes very well, in a slightly samey sort of way so that things are always a little off centre. The observation is acute yet bizarre, a lot of insects get dismembered, crushed or observed as if the tiny details provide an insight into something else. Everyone is slightly grubby, brushing down creased clothes with vaguely unclean veined hands and the house is equally grubby. People are slightly mad as well so that their interactions never add up to anything or if there is significance the reader is excluded. Events seem possibly important but are not connected, the plot rambles and the rain, when it arrives, is a feeble denouement…
I gave up my review, it made no sense the spiderish handwriting like an indecipherable map of a foreign country half glimpsed but not quite understood. I was conscious that Eve had entered the room or perhaps it was Claire. She was wearing a strange flower scattered dress, too short as if made for a child. Her shoulder blades angled like the wings of a crashed angel and there was a small spot under her nose which was scratched inadvertently so that it throbbed dull and reddish.
‘It’s Alex,’ she said, ‘he’s bonkers’.
So are we all, I thought hoping we were close to the end. Luckily, we were!