[amazon_link id=”067078463X” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]
[/amazon_link]Title : The House at the End of Hope Street
Author : Menna van Praag
Genre : Women’s Fiction
Publisher : Pamela Dorman Books (Viking)
Pages : 304
Source : Netgalley/Publisher Arc
Rating 2.5/5
Unhappy Alba Ashby is drawn toward a house on the street. At the doorstep, she is admitted into the house by the proprietor Peggy Abbot. The house is a magical healing home for women. Sad, unhappy women are drawn here, can live here for a maximum of 99 nights, during which the house supports them back up with the help of mystic favors, choice notes and helpful advice from the many (now dead) ladies who exist here in spirit.
The house has other residents besides Alba. There’s Greer, a waitress who wishes to be an actress, and then there is Carmen, a Portugese singer who has a dangerous secret in her past. The grandmotherly proprietress Peggy herself is a much older woman who has remained in the house many years, foregoing the pleasures of a full life for the duties towards the house and women in general, but now is sorely tempted to leave it all for the love of her life. As time progresses, each woman must face her own demons, and with some help, arrive at a resolution.
When I read the teaser for the book, it seemed natural to want to pick it up. However I have to say that this one didn’t meet my expectations; in fact I had a hard time finishing it. The book has a slow pace. Events in the book are narrated by the characters, by means of recollections or thoughts, so they feel passive. The characters themselves I found weepy and whiny and full of the “mystical spirituality” that practical engineers like myself may never aspire to. I had little patience with Greer especially, but Alba, because of her vastly difficult circumstances and relatively small age, had my sympathy. While the author describes events and happenings well, the character’s “voices” seemed very similar, there was little to tell their characters, except for their different circumstances/physical appearance.
The house itself is magical, so it is invisible to most people; only women in trouble who need help can see it. The house can, sort-of read minds, and conjure up what you are looking for at the right moment; Greer’s room for example is full of a magical wardrobe, while Alba suddenly finds scores of books materialize in hers. Notes with pithy proverbs and quotes drop out of the ceiling, ghosts appear in the sink, and much-dead writers and feminists (Agatha Christie, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Daphne du Maurier to name a few) spout apt advice from their wall-hung photographs. Indeed, I value instinct and intuition (and sixth sense) as much as the next person, but books of this genre make me squeamish; they seem to add to the “no math, just mysticism please” image of women.
I do believe that all of us have our troubles and need help, support and a little respite at some point in our lives, so I really liked the book’s concept of a healing, all-knowing, omnipotent sanctuary. I just wish that this heart-warming concept had been bolstered up with more substance. I found no similarity to the Jasper Fforde books (as was touted), except that they are fantasy just as bits of this are. This book, is in essence, of the same genre as Chitra Divakaruni’s “Mistress of Spices” or Laura Esquivel’s “Like Water like Chocolate”, so if you liked those books you will probably like this one too.
