I always find it fascinating to re-read a book after several decades have passed, to see if I feel differently about it. Flowers in the Attic read by teenage me was scary and tense; read by middle aged me, it induced waves of anger and made me wonder what sort of psychological issues the author had. There aren't any characters to really like, the entire thing is relentlessly cruel and it doesn't end in any real satisfying way...and yet the writing is so compelling that you can help but be drawn into the story.
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