Sisters, Old English Manors, Shell Shock, and Slow-Moving Disappointment

I probably should have written my review of this book closer to finishing it, because as of right now, my reaction is pretty much just: Meh.

The House at Riverton is a post-WWI gothic type novel that chronicles the life of the Hartford family through the eyes of young Grace Bradley, a servant at Riverton Manor from the age of fifteen. Grace is now ninety-nine years old and recounting the story of her time with the Hartfords (particularly with the two sisters, Hannah and Emmeline) just before and after the war. She is doing so on cassette tapes for her grandson, Marcus, in order to set the record straight about a few things she has been keeping secret for her entire life. The story is now coming to light because a film is being made about the most infamous event surrounding Riverton and the Hartford sisters: the suicide of a famous poet in 1924 at a summer party. The two girls were the only witnesses to the violent act, and neither ever spoke about it publicly.

Every summary of this novel makes it seem like the death of Robbie the poet is the central concern of the book, when really it’s barely an issue. This book lives in the moments leading up to Robbie’s death, and the actual events when revealed are really more of a closing note than a climax. Grace, our eyes into this world, tells us what she deems important in order for us to understand the full impact of that night and why it turned out the way it did. I also think Morton wasn’t interested in a shut and close mystery novel. She was telling the story of an era through this family, and in some cases I think her interest in showcasing that period got in the way of her creating effective character moments.

The biggest issue I had with this book is one that I picked up on in the first thirty pages: Everything there — themes, events, plot arcs, character types — I’ve read better somewhere else. I don’t think this book added anything of note to any literary discussion involving the gothic, post-WWI books, books about repressed femininity or domestic space, stories about trangression and regret, or the well-worn even in its time literature about The Bright Young Things of the roaring ’20s. Another problem was Grace herself. I get that using a framing device is an homage to novels of this type, but her passivity and her seeming stupidity (despite evidence of intelligence in other places throughout the book) was extremely frustrating. Grace was a cypher character, essentially only there to relate the story of Hannah and Emmeline and Robbie (and the others). This wouldn’t be bad, except that it’s clear Morton was trying to make her a 3-D character in her own right, and I don’t think she succeeded. The only times Grace was a worthwhile character was during the sections of narration from her ninety-nine year old self. During the flashback scenes, she’s just furniture, not even active in her own life, not even aware that she’s passive. If later Grace had made it clear that her past self was useless then this wouldn’t be as much of a problem, but it’s not something that’s acknowledged in the text at all. Grace the character might as well not even have existed, frankly. This is particularly frustrating because the way Morton wrote her, Grace was perfectly placed to have some great character interactions with the others, but never does. The fact that I so wanted her to have these interactions made it even worse.

And the ending. The soapy and melodramatic nature of the whole thing was a complete turn-off, and even though Morton tried to play it off as being all about Grace and her regret, the actual execution of it didn’t make it come off that way for me. It just played out as pointless tragedy, from my point of view. I also thought that ending actually cheapened the relationship between the sisters, and that Emmeline’s actions were not at all understandable within the framework of the story Morton had created. Very out of character. If that was going to be the ending all along, Morton needed to have set up different character work entirely on Emmeline. I don’t believe at all that she would have done what she did. It felt cheap. I also thought the bits about the film being made felt very shallow, especially since we were clearly meant to think that they were deep and insightful. The thing that bugged me most about the book is how dumb Grace seemed SPOILER: in not realizing her father was Frederick (the lord of Riverton), and that Hannah and Emmeline were her sisters. It was INCREDIBLY obvious, especially during the funeral scene when he shows up to mourn her mother. She’s like, Oh gee, why is Lord Frederick here? I have no idea. Oh, also, I wonder who my father is? GRACE YOU FUCKING IDIOT. Can’t figure out if Morton meant us to realize it long before Grace did, and if so, what would be the point of that. Did she WANT us to think Grace was the world’s stupidest person?

In terms of the audiobook version, which is the one I read, it was very good excepting the times when Caroline Lee had to voice American characters. Her American accents were the worst I’ve ever heard. She is incapable of speaking in an American accent without elongating every word and making every character sound like a pretentious asshole. In some cases, her accent actually harms the characters and undermines the way I think they were meant to be perceived (particularly in Teddy’s case).

There were some truly enjoyable aspects to this novel, despite my issues with it. I thought Morton’s handling of the post-war stuff was really good, as was the the girls’ frustrations with the limitations put upon their gender. I also liked the love story, even if I didn’t like how it ended, and genuinely liked all the characters as well. I just wish she had been a bit more conscientious of character interactions, because as far as I’m concerned, having all these great characters and missing out on potentially great moments between them is a crime.