The Glass is Half Full #1: “Minutes Like Hours”

Flowers in the Attic is, of course, told from a first person perspective, which makes things like the prologue and the sex with one’s sibling so poignant. No narrative distance here, no siree. There are limitations to this perspective though, and they revolve around the fact that young Cathy is a Debbie Downer.

“Oh, poor us! Our father died and I had to leave all my stuff behind and be locked in an attic with a sadistic grandmother who lashes out in the name of Jesus and all of the evil that family sex represents. Boo hoo…”

Well Cathy, your readers are trapped in the attic with you too and it wouldn’t hurt to stop moping for a little bit and look at the positives of the situation. On that note, I am introducing a new occasional column, “The Glass is Half Full,” in which we will explore reasons why it might not be so bad to live in an attic, or whatever else the dear girl is prattling on about.
Today, dear readers, we’re looking at Cathy’s relationship with time. She says, “What did you do with time when you had it in superabundance? Where did you put your eyes when you had already seen everything? What direction should your thoughts take, when daydreams could lead you into so much trouble?” and proceeds to mope and dope about how boring their shitty lives are.

Time is a wonderful thing! I haven’t had any for days. So Cathy’s cup may runneth over a little bit, but I bet she has plenty of time to keep her nails clipped and never finds that they’ve gotten embarrassingly long or snags her tights on them. They also get to go to bed at 7 o’clock EVERY NIGHT and have a nap too, which has to do wonders for the dark circles such as those that plague my own Caucasian, but not blue, eyes. “Taking many baths was another way to use up excess time, and shampooing made it last longer—oh, we were the cleanest children alive.” I love to bathe! They’re clean, well rested, and throughout the day they get to nosh on “little boxes of cheese crackers.” As a youth and an adult, I love food that comes individual portions. In fact, I love anything miniature, so what a pleasure it would be to have twins that “were more like three-year-olds than children of five.” Teeny tiny creepy children! Just for them! And throughout the book, Cathy makes references to the amount of time they spend lolling under sun beams in the nude with only a filthy mattress between their tender pink flesh and the filthy attic floor. While that’s not exactly my scene, I am sure that there are plenty of nudists and others that would revel in that opportunity.

This list is by no means conclusive, but I hope that it does demonstrate that being locked in an attic for the duration of one’s youth isn’t necessarily the worst fate that can befall humanity.

In a wee attempt at optimism, Cathy says“Chris said it was a deadly crime to waste time. Time was valuable. No one ever had time enough, or lived long enough to learn enough. All about us the world was on the way to the fir, crying, ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry!’ And look at us: we had time to spare, hours to fill, a million books to read, time to let our imagination take wing,” but Chris is a gay tool, so I’m not inclined to listen to him.

A Lesson Learned, Chapter 2

Or: Always pay attention to the foreshadow.

An important lesson, to be sure, but often overlooked. Maybe you get a funny feeling about that dude staring at you in the dark alley.  Maybe that roller coaster looks a little rickety, and is it just me, or is the kid in the control box drunk? 

Ah yes, the paranoia of every day living. It's easy enough to shrug off-- Why shouldn't he be leaning against a wall in an alley? Of course he's looking at me, I'm the only other person here!

And, Would they really keep running the roller coaster if it was about to fall apart?  I mean COME ON! And how would a drunk kid ever get a job controlling a roller coaster? Get a grip!

Sometimes these reality checks are necessary.  You can't spend your life huddled in front of "Murder She Wrote" in your footy pajamas anticipating the next mysterious murder from the safety of your own pathetic papasan chair.  Get out there, walk down that alley, get on that roller coaster, give the drunk kid a chance.  

But.

But.

But.

At other times, and other more serious encounters with the foreshadow, I suggest you get your head out of your you-know-what and watch out!  

Chapter 2, The Road to Riches

Life Lesson #1: Heed the foreshadow

So maybe nothing all that weird happened in chapter 1.  I'm willing to give these kids the ginormous benefit of the doubt and say they did not have ample warning of their impending doom until chapter 2. In chapter 1 their dad died, they found out their mom is incompetent, and that they're about to be broke.  They were rightly distraught, and thus not up to sleuthing; I understand. I try to put myself in their shoes. This is how I would react in their situation. (See page 40 in my copy of the book to follow along.)

Mum: Gather some clothes and toys for your siblings. Fit them all in one suitcase. We're going to visit grandma.  

Me: Ok Ma... I wish I had a dad.

*hours later, middle of the night, on a deserted road surrounded by trees*

Mum: It's not much farther. Keep going.  

Me: Ma, why do we have to walk all the way to grandma's in the middle of the night? My young siblings are tired and so am I.

Mum: Well I can't very well show up at my parent's house in the middle of the day with 4 children, now can I?!  

Me: I guess that makes sense.  

*tired out from being 5 years old and hiking 15 miles, siblings fall asleep*

Mum: Wake them up! Stand them on their feet and force them to walk, whether they want to or not!

Me: But, Ma...

*Mum mutters something under her breath, something only I can hear*  [Foreshadow alert!]

Mum: Lord knows they better walk outside while they can...

Me: AHHHHHHHHH!! RUN SIBLINGS, RUN!!!!

That, at least, is what I would do.  Or, that's what I will do thanks to this book. Still, that's not what our 4 young heroes did.  Instead they kept going and soon found themselves at grandma's house.  

Foreshadow Lesson #2: How to know when your grandma is about to lock you in the attic

If she has, as you say, "a bosom like twin hills of concrete," and the first thing she says about you (in your presence) is, "But are you sure they are intelligent? Do they have some invisible afflictions not apparent to the eyes?" 

And if the first thing she says to you is, "You all keep quiet! If your grandfather learns you are up here, he will throw all of you out without one red penny-- after he has severely punished you for being alive!"

This is a no-brainer. If you're going to be punished just for being alive--listen to your paranoia, run for it.  

And finally, Foreshadow Lesson #3: So are you a product of incest or not?

(If you find yourself wondering, then the answer is likely "yes.")

But here's one telltale sign. If your grandma tells your mom that you and your bro can't share a bed, and your mom defends you saying "They're only children! They're innocent." And then your grandma says to your mom, "Innocent? That is exactly what your father and I always presumed about you and your half-uncle!"

Ouch. 

Chapter 2 didn't exactly dole the foreshadowing out subtly.  Those kids just lost my benefit of the doubt. They're idiots. Please learn from their poor example.  Just stay inside with Jessica Fletcher.