The Madwoman Upstairs

by Catherine Lowell

[Amber (The Literary Phoenix)]

I totally unexpectedly really, really enjoyed The Madwoman Upstairs.

There’s a couple things immediately that should have turned me off this novel. First of all, the romance. I am never interested in a student/teacher sort of tryst. Not my cup of tea. Secondly, there’s all the focus on the Bronte sisters. I don’t talk about it a lot, but I actually despised reading Jane Eyre… to the point where I haven’t touched it or anything like it since. Disliking Jane Eyre led me to skipping Wuthering Heights, and also all the Austen novels.

So how in the world did The Madwoman Upstairs end up on my TBR? And me ending up liking it? Mysteries abound.

This book is about Samantha Whipple – last living descendant of the Brontes – and her search for whatever legacy her father may have left her. She’s a first year student at Oxford, studying English and Literature… which of course she is rubbish at. Samantha has that sort of stereotypical American snark. She makes a lot of bad jokes that nobody gets and definitely nobody finds funny, so, immediately, I related to her. I didn’t actually find her a particularly likable protagonist, but I did find her to be an interesting one. Sam’s one of those people who sees the irrationality in things, but often does them anyway, constantly scolding her bad choices… I don’t see a lot of characters like that, but I really enjoy reading about them. I always enjoy reading protagonists with an inner monologue, the kinds that are in their head a lot.

One of the things that pulled me into this book was the promise of a scavenger hunt – I love those sorts of historical treasure hunts. Yes, I know National Treasure is a bit awful, but I am so in for that kind of story. This was what The Madwoman Upstairs promised, and it ultimately delivered. That said… it delivered very slowly, and sometimes got distracted, and the ultimate ending was a bit underwhelming. It became quickly apparent to me that Lowell wanted this book to be about the love story and Samantha’s journey, not the mystery, so that let me down.

What saved this book, for me, was the literary analysis. I loved Samantha’s tutorials. I loved listening to the different perspectives to the Bronte novels… to the point where I actually put a couple on my TBR. I know, dear readers! Is this the same person who vowed eternal loathing towards Jane Eyre at the beginning of this review? Samantha’s literal interpretations of these classic novels are fascinating.

At the end of the day, I rolled my eyes at the “romance” and devoured the historical content. I couldn’t put this book down because I knew, I knew, if I could just get through the drivel about Orville’s handsome cheekbones or whatever, I would be rewarded with a mystery unveiled. The Madwoman Upstairs wasn’t a perfect book by any means, but it was interesting enough that I’d read it again, and that I’d watch out for anything else Catherine Lowell publishes.

Also, it got Wuthering Heights and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall on my TBR, and that alone is a small miracle.

And also, because I feel I must scream it somewhere, I totally believe her ending is unreliable.