gracescanlon's reviews
730 reviews

I loved Julian — he was so well-fleshed-out, believable, and lovable. Hallie, however…annoyed and frustrated me. I know she’s supposed to be “chaotic,” but honestly, her various forms of “chaos,”  like her chronic and egregious tardiness, are unbelievably rude, inconsiderate, and unprofessional. She’s also one of the most inconsistent characters I’ve ever read — and not in a realistic, true-to-form, or story-enriching way. Hallie is roughly thirty years old, but she’s so immature that if the author hadn’t disclosed her age early in the novel, I’d have been shocked she was old enough to legally drink.

Compared to a character like Julian, who though he had wrong ideas about himself and needed therapy (nothing to be ashamed of), functioned as a respectful, professional adult, Hallie looked even more immature, rude, and inconsiderate. The disparity in their maturity levels also made their non-physical attraction and compatibility improbable.

Hallie’s friend and her friend’s husband were lovely, funny, and interesting. I wish they’d gotten more “screen time” — the two of them and Natalie (Julian’s sister) were the most intriguing characters besides Julian!

I did greatly appreciate the mid- to plus-sized representation in the book. Specifically, I loved that multiple other characters besides Julian found Hallie attractive. I think my favorite part of this was that although Hallie wasn’t a thin woman, her desirability was a matter of fact to the people around her. Additionally, they never mentioned her weight in relation to her looks, which was delightful and a breath of fresh air. (An aside: Julian saying that the parts of her body she’s insecure about are what turn him on was, to me, sweet as well as sexy.)

Julian’s dirty talk did seem to begin out of nowhere, but I didn’t find it unbelievable for a character like him. After all, he can’t be straight-laced in every way. A person’s got to have some method of blowing off steam — especially one as uptight as Julian! So I thought his using dirty talk in bed was definitely within the realm of possibility. However, his transition from Mr. schedules-jerking-time to filthy-mouthed lover could’ve been more natural and gradual. 

Also, I found the whole dirt thing incredibly off-putting. I don’t mean to shame — honestly, it just confused me.

I just wasn't a fan of the narrator's voice. It was casual, which isn't often a dealbreaker for me, but it also read like an early draft written by a college student. However, what I did read seemed fun, so don't let my personal opinion sway you (assuming anyone reads what I write here). 

I read about a third of this book before DNF-ing it. Though Gothic novels are the most likely to become my very favorite reads, The Secrets of Hartwood Hall was, overall, thoroughly “meh.” I have three reasons behind my opinion of a book that claims to belong to my favorite genre. 

1. The pace is unbelievably slow. I’m sure the author was trying to create an unsettling atmosphere during that time, but personally, I didn’t feel that creepy-crawly feeling that I adore in Gothic fiction. For so little happening both plot- and character-wise, failing to establish the ideal atmosphere for a Gothic novel further bored and annoyed me.

2. The side characters are entirely forgettable. The other servants, especially, I couldn’t keep straight, not only from day to day, but also from chapter to chapter. I don’t even remember how many female servants there were (excluding the narrator, naturally). Was it three? Was it four? Also, what were their positions and rankings in the house staff hierarchy? I couldn’t tell you no matter how long I sit and try to remember. That’s how forgettable they were. These characters were less like well-rounded, if limited due to the first-person POV, characters than convenient plot devices. Of course side characters can and often do fulfill roles that move the plot forward, but if that’s the only reason they appear on the page, they’re completely flat.

3. The narrator is insufferable. She’s not only annoying, she’s inconsistent in her behavior and her thoughts in a way very few actual people are. As I only managed to muddle through the first third of the book, this wasn’t a sign of growth.
What I disliked most about the narrator was her repeated assertion that she’d done something wrong in regards to her husband. Every time she stated this, she did so without expanding on it or providing further explanation.
The only exception to this pattern came from the letter her late husband’s sister sent her, which contained her sister-in-law’s words and not her own. Given the choice, the narrator would’ve taken her time divulging even the crumbs of information her husband’s sister did via post.
The lack of any further reveal into the narrator’s “dark past” effectively desensitized me to the overall concept. Eventually, all I could think when I read essentially the same statement every other chapter (if not more frequently) was, “Okay, we get it. She might have a darkish past. I KNOW that. I can’t NOT know that, as I read it every seven pages or so. So either give me more information about why this possible dark past matters or just shut. up.”

At the very least, nearly - if not entirely - everything a Gothic novel ought to be, with a unique twist in the incorporation of Greek mythology. Brava!

I wanted so badly to love this. The concept was absolutely fabulous — a young prima ballerina who fought her way to the top becomes the beauty in a Beauty and the Beast retelling, where the beast is

Death personified.

The story featured many elements I found original and/or interesting. The friendship between the main character and her best friend was heartwarming, loving, and honest. I deeply enjoyed the author’s portrayal of their healthy, loyal, intimate, supportive female friendship. Their friendship, in a book centered primarily around young female characters, thoroughly delighted me.

There are multiple reasons I scored this under four stars. Though not many, the issues I had with the book were (at least to me) significant. First, the story dragged a bit. I wanted it to move along, not necessarily more quickly, but more smoothly, with less of a stopping-and-starting pace and more finesse. Second, the narrator/protagonist was dumb as a rock. She couldn’t put together the very obvious indicators of what was happening around her, for one. But worse, she fell for the villain’s lies without questioning them, even though common sense, logic, and her own lived experiences would naturally lead anyone with half a brain to do so. 

However, it was the ending that offended me most. Both supremely unsatisfying and vague, it shared a lack of sense with its protagonist. The story’s written ending left me deeply frustrated, mostly because the book should’ve continued or at the very least given a hint indicating a real conclusion.