My Sweet Audrina, V.C. Andrews (1982)

My Sweet Audrina is the saga of the Adare family, as told by daughter Audrina, spanning roughly two decades, from the time Audrina is seven, to a young woman in her twenties. The story revolves around Audrina, her parents, aunt, and cousin who live in the faded Victorian mansion, Whitefern, inherited by Audrina’s mother. It isn’t just the family who live in the gloomy house; secrets, deception, and betrayals are also in residence.

Audrina suffers from memory gaps. She’s never sure what day, month, or season it is. All the clocks are set to different times. There are no calendars or newspapers (except for the latter, when the plot requires them). Audrina doesn’t go to school, she’s taught by her mother and aunt. One other thing; Audrina has a dead older sister named Audrina, who was killed on her ninth birthday in the woods on their property. Audrina’s father tries to make Audrina the second take on all the wonderful qualities of Audrina the first by having her sit in her rocking chair in her shrine-like bedroom. This exercise has mixed results.

When a cottage on the property is rented to a family from town, Audrina is warned not to go there. She defies her father and goes anyway, befriending the boy who lives there, Arden, and his mother, Billie. Audrina thinks she’s seen Arden before, but that’s impossible, right?

The story goes along, with the characters aging and tragedy befalling some, until eventually, the truth comes out about both Audrinas.

I have a number of issues with this one. We’re never explicitly told where or when the story takes place. It’s left to us to glean that information from a random sentence or two. It’s told in first person by Audrina, who is an unreliable narrator by dint of her faulty memory and foggy perception of time. It’s never made clear whether the adult Audrina is relaying the story years later or we’re reading it as it happens.

There’s no solid anchor in this story, so it drifts. Plot points are dropped, resurface, then are dropped again. Some things are never explained, like the significance of the number nine, Audrina’s journal, and the wind chimes. There’s no clarity. Everything’s jumbled and unfocused, not due to the contrived memory issue but poor writing. The early chapters are stagnant, then years zip by. Do any of the characters grow in this time? Not a one. In fact, behavioral patterns repeat. Characters contradict themselves time and again. They flip-flop more than a gymnast during a floor routine.

You don’t know who you’re supposed to like or root for. The gimmick of the memory gap, meant to build mystery and suspense, wears thin, since almost everything is transparent. I wasn’t surprised by anything in this, having guessed the ‘secrets’ of every damn character from the first possible moment. This book reads like a soap opera story line meant to last three months that was extended to a year.  It exists on a skeletal plot as thin and brittle as cousin Vera’s bones (she suffers multiple fractures throughout) and fragile as Audrina’s mind. Speaking of Vera, despite being a vicious, spiteful, bitter bitch consumed with hatred, she comes across as the most real because she owns it. She’s like Veda Pierce, but on steroids.

Ridiculously, we’re supposed to believe that Audrina develops a psychic or telepathic connection, a ‘rapport’ she calls it, with her severely mentally challenged younger sister, Sylvia. Audrina can just think something and the child understands (I contend the entire story is the collected ravings of a lunatic in an asylum). In an already outrageously bad story, the last couple of chapters are so farcical they have to be read to be believed. They include such things as:

*MAJOR SPOILER WARNING*: Audrina revives from a three month coma, not dying when life support is turned off, even though she should. A mere three weeks of physical therapy and she’s home again. The day she returns to Whitefern, she has a fight with her estranged spouse and runs (get that runs) out to her dead sister’s grave in the middle of a hellacious thunderstorm and begins to dig it up with her bare hands. Her husband follows, she fights with him, then they have crazy, lust-filled, animalistic sex. Got that? A woman who just came out of a freaking three month coma is having physically demanding sex in the middle of a violent thunderstorm after dashing around like an Olympic sprinter and trying to dig up a grave. Careful, you may end up blind from such intense eye-rolling. I forgot to mention the miscarriage scene that takes place earlier in the book. That may elicit a ‘wtf did I just read?’ moment. To say it’s batshit insane would be an understatement.

My Sweet Audrina is a bland, exhausting read. Never have I read so many words that ended up saying nothing. You’ll expend a lot of energy reading it, but it has no value. It’s mental junk food. There’re so many preposterous, ludicrous, laughable events that occur outside the realm of possibility, you’ll end up wondering why you bothered to read it at all. 1-1/2 * out of 5