Quest for Truth Part 2

I've got much to say about how I came to pick up (and analyze, and blog about) this book, but first let me weigh in on my counterpart's-- Grandmother's-- quest for the truth behind this knife-wielding prologue and book. I turn to the dedication.

This book is dedicated to my mother.

The fact that Ms. Andrews has chosen to dedicate this family drama to her own mother adds further speculation and bewilderment to our quest for truth. What exactly does she mean by that dedication? Is she being sincere? Is she trying to say, "Mom, I'm so glad you didn't conceive me with your uncle and then lock me in my mean grandmother's attic where I had no choice but to make it with my brother. Thanks for being the opposite of this book, Mom!"?

OR is it something a tad more passive aggressive? It's all tomatoes, I suppose, and after all fiction will be "fiction" as "Cathy" points out. But let's dare to speculate. A bit of research (ie. the first hit on a google search) will thicken the plot. According to one maybe-reliable website, VC's first ever story, which she had to write in secret (it's unexplained as to why, but maybe a crazy moms had something to do with it), had to be destroyed because it was too autobiographical and she wanted to keep her life private. Jump ahead a few years and her first published story is elusively titled, "I Slept With My Uncle On My Wedding Night." I can't say for sure what it's about since I don't own the collected works. I have just now reluctantly typed this title into the interweb and a discussion board popped up with some fans desperate for a copy. It seems to have never been located. But give it time. The hunt is on.

Finally, Andrews herself described the first draft of Flowers in the Attic as containing "unspeakable things my mother didn't want me writing about." Fair enough. I guess people write about things their mothers don't want them writing about all the time.  And also true, most mothers probably would prefer that their children did not show a great interest in incest. I'd venture so far as to guess that most mothers would rather that their daughters did not write novels that claim to be memoirs about their childhood abuse and incestuous romance, especially if said daughter then plans on dedicating said novel to said mother. Said daughter admits that she knew this, and so, even if said "fiction" is the made-up kind of fiction and not the "fiction" kind of fiction, this dedication--conclusively--ain't the nice kind.