The latest book at bedtime, admittedly chosen largely because of the cover, turned out to be an unputdownable read.
Early 1890s New England, Turn of the Screw ingredients: two orphaned half siblings (Flora and Miles are now the titular Florence and Giles), an absent and disinterested uncle, a run-down mansion (Bly has turned into Blithe House), a housekeeper (Mrs Grose has become Mrs Grouse), a governess or two. Throw in a bit of sleep walking, ghostly goings on, a sister's love for her younger brother and you have the recipe for a gripping story.
Florence, our twelve year old narrator, has been forbidden any education (her uncle has his reasons) and taught herself to read, and in doing so has developed her own private language (in the way, she explains, Shakespeare 'barded the language' by making up words when the ones he wanted just didn't exist)
So adjectives and nouns become verbs ('All I could do was Lady of Shalott my way through the days'; 'I captain's chaired me and spent a few moments wistfulling the drive'), verbs become nouns ('a twiddlery of thumbs'; a weepery of frustration'; the sneezery of books'). Not in every sentence, that would be downright annoying, but enough to be easily understandable, at times endearing, at others maybe just a little bit creepy.
Oh, as Florence might say, this book atmosphered me from the very beginning, as it Gothicked its twisty way towards a chilling (but not in a sleep with the lights on kind of way) end. Highly recommended.
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It will be quiet here for a little while as the diary is unusually (and frazzlingly) full. Back later in the month with tales of a little jaunt.