The House We Grew Up In

Okay, so Lisa Jewell has obviously left romantic chick lit behind and is now a Serious Novelist, writing about dysfunctional families and the like. The House We Grew Up In kept me turning the pages in a kind of horrified fascination. The family's matriarch is a hoarder who lives in denial of her own problem and of any issues that don't match her illusion of a perfect, happy family. The results are disastrous for her children , including suicide, familial desertion, drug dealing, nervous breakdown and my ultimate Ick Factor, a sibling who sleeps with her sister's partner. I kept waiting for the deep, dark secret that would explain everything, but Jewell doesn't take the easy way out. Yes, there are some contributing factors, but there is no single episode that triggers the pathology, nor are there villains and heroes. It's all very messy yet somehow in the end there is hope that the survivors will move on as a closer family unit.

I still miss Jewell's romances, but this was much heartfelt and cohesive than her last novel, Before I Met You.