False narrators
We Were Liars – the title instantly hooks you in, doesn’t it? You just know this is going to be a complex read with unreliable information throwing you off the scent. And I’m keen to learn much more about false narrators as a literary tool. I haven’t read anything by this author, E Lockhart, before, so I was intrigued by it … and by her website!
It’s a book aimed at young adults (which probably accounts for my being unaware of this lady) and tells the tale of an exceptional and privileged family, the Sinclairs – tall and rich and beautiful and white. Three of them, cousins Cadence, Mirren and Johnny, along with Johnny’s friend Gat, spend idyllic summers on the family’s island living a carefree existence while their mothers, the daughters of the head of the family, Harris Sinclair, squabble about inheritance and fairness and possessions.
Cadence, the narrator, is the eldest of her generation, heiress to the island, the fortune, and the expectations. When she’s fifteen, she’s found unconscious on the beach, soaked and only in her underwear. Whatever happened, the trauma has left her with PTSD, terrible migraine headaches, and no memory of that summer. What’s worse is that no one will tell her what happened; even the children know they must not divulge anything on pain of fearful punishment. They are even blatantly lying to her about what is euphemistically referred to as ‘the accident’. But why?
Then, gradually, snippet by snippet, flashbacks to that fateful summer begin to fill in some of the void. Tragic details emerge which rock the very foundations of Cadence’s existence. The family’s desperate need to present a flawless image to the world has damaged her in ways she is only beginning to understand.
It’s a most unusual book, both in style and substance. Hints of the supernatural. Short staccato sentences in places to convey the fluctuating thoughts of a young teenager. The embryonic love between Gat (aka Gatwick Matthew Patil) and Cadence tenderly wrought. Cadence’s description of him captures her mesmerised gaze:
His nose was dramatic, his mouth sweet. Skin deep brown, hair black and waving. Body wired with energy. Gat seemed spring-loaded. Like he was searching for something. He was contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee. I could have looked at him forever.
Interspersed with the narrative of what happens within this privileged family are chapters devoted to fairy tales all featuring a king/rich merchant with three beautiful daughters, each revealing a different angle on the family tensions.
Unlike anything else I’ve read. And an excellent example of the possibilities offered by false narrators … I’m keen to give it a try!
Commitment Religion, rights and rejection