First, your beloved father died. Then, your slightly-less-beloved mother locked you and your brothers and sister in an attic. Then she tried to poison you with arsenic cookies. I know these things must have been difficult. But then you had to go and make it worse. Having sex with your brother, no matter how hot he is, no matter how slim the alternatives, is never a good idea. It leads to two-headed babies, failed ballet careers, marriages to old men, and other undesirable things. It leads to girls reading about you in fifth grade because their mothers don’t pay enough attention. It leads to them remembering the gruesome incest details for the rest of their lives, even though sometimes they forget their own phone numbers. So thanks a lot, Catherine.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
V.C. Andrews | Flowers in the Attic | 1979