Flowers In the Attic Live blog
Flowers In The Attic reminds me of my mother.
I know, isn’t that the most horrible thing anyone could say? But she gave me the books (not knowing what was in them, obviously) and then, when someone told her they were lurid garbage, defended my right to read them.
You’d think parental permissiveness would have turned me off. But how can you possibly resist the 60s “seductive femininity” narrative? The long, smoldering glances? The “tight and resisting flesh?” Spoiler, sorry.
I am no longer 11 years old and so it seems weird to be so excited about this pervy, creepy story. But if it sticks so firmly with all of us 20 years later, doesn’t that mean something? -- Duana
Flowers In The Attic reminds me of …well… it reminds me of me, before what was right and wrong complicated what I thought. Do you remember your first, pure reaction to reading it? Would you ever admit to what you really felt in certain scenes? Certainly not as an adult who’s supposed to know from right and wrong.
That’s just one of the reasons this television event is an event. It’s not just a smutty story. It’s THE smutty story we read THEN. So we’re liveblogging starting at 8pm with our friend Courtney who just hosted a Flowers In The Attic book club earlier this week for an upcoming article in The Globe & Mail. You can, um, imagine the discussion, some of which might be touched on tonight. – Lainey
Thanks for joining us!
Yours in gossip,
Duana & Lainey
PS. I’m reattaching the US cover of my book baby because, like all pregnant women, I will mention my pregnancy at times when pregnancy has nothing to do with anything.