Another
book that my mother bought from Fopp for an offensively low price. Having read
a couple of Bainbridge novels already, I was familiar with her love for stories
of troubled girls and the differences between reality and their perceptions of
it. However, I was fooled by the colorful cover of this edition and approached
the novel believing it would have been short (which it was) and sweet (far from
it).
Even
without taking in consideration the incipit, it’s quite clear that the two main
characters of Harriett Said… are
trapped in a downward spiral. That said, I was expecting something milder
(really bad, but somehow milder) to be at the bottom of that spiral – the actual
turn of events over the last few pages caught me completely by surprise.
It’s absolutely
remarkable that this novel can still shock and sicken the reader after 50
years. And by the time the reader stops justifying the two main characters
saying that they are just two little girls playing around and discovering themselves,
it’s too late.
