I recently acquired my copy of The Umbrella Lady after spotting it on the shelves of Casa Norberto. Even though I had previously seen it on Amazon, I didn’t decide to buy it until I had seen it in person.
V.C. Andrews was the writer of Flowers in the Attic, a controversial novel with similar ideas: children forced inside. Perhaps in response to the modern literary world, The Umbrella Lady doesn’t have any of the disturbing elements of Flowers in the Attic. If you were to look for it for yourself, I’ll go ahead and warn you: if you cannot handle the disturbing concepts and imagery of Game of Thrones, you will not withstand the beautiful chaos of V.C. Andrews’ debut novel.
Why am I mentioning her past work? Because V.C. Andrews is dead and has been dead since 1986. Her name and brand is carried by its ghostwriter, Andrew Neiderman, with the intention of mimicking the gothic elements, child helplessness, misogyny , and family dynamics of V.C. Andrews’ work. Andrew Neiderman has written dozens of novels, none of which have been as successful as this one.
The cover of The Umbrella Lady is an improvement to unusual covers with the art of children in a circle on the center of the cover. This cover displays the somber insides of a train station, where a lonesome little girl stands gazing toward the tracks, seemingly oblivious to the umbrella lady’s menacing shadow. It suits the mysterious atmosphere of the novel, and the confusion of both the protagonist and the reader.
The protagonist is a little girl named Saffron. After surviving a fire that destroyed her home and killed her mother, Saffron is taken by her father through travel by train. Her father instructs her to sit on a bench and wait for him to return. Soon enough, an old woman would arrive and force Saffron to go home with her.
The novel’s chapters consistently feature paragraphs of Saffron ruminating over her depressed mother, her dismissive father, and her lack of friends. Although somewhat inconspicuous, Andrew Neiderman instills a strong irony that Saffron wouldn’t realize until the end of the book, but I noticed it. Saffron misses her mother, who had neglected her. She wants her father back, who abandoned her. The only stable adult figure in her life is the umbrella lady: Mazy Dazy.
Mazy Dazy acts as the antagonist. She’s a widow with a misanthropic view of others. Despite her past as a teacher, she has the attitude and discipline of a PhD survivor. She cages Saffron in her home, forces her to heed a strict schedule of education and chores, and keeps her isolated from others. Saffron is clearly suffering. Mazy attempts to brainwash Saffron by repeatedly assuring her that her father would not come back, and that Saffron was receiving a superior education thanks to her. Mazy is relentlessーthroughout the book, it’s all too easy to lose count of the times she repeats these discourses. Over and over.
In the first half of the novel, Neiderman inserts flashbacks and hints of Saffron’s past. Her mother’s quotes and mood swings are explained in detail as we are transported back to the good old days. Except Saffron doesn’t seem to have any happy memories. It appears she was always hopeful about her future until Mazy found her, that is. Of course, there’s only so many ways you can say: “the mom is depressed and the dad is a lousy husband.” We get it.
It’s not until the last third of the book that the plot actually moves. Saffron meets a little girl named Lucy, who has leukemia. They develop a star-crossed friendship because Lucy’s overprotective mother, nurse, and older brother are shielding her from potentially endangering her immune system. This causes Saffron to feel a kinship towards her, considering both characters shared feelings of isolation and curiosity towards others.
Oh, did you expect more? Because Lucy dies before anything can happen. Saffron retreats into her shell from the shock. One or two chapters later, Mazy allows Saffron to go to school. By this point, their relationship had mellowed. Nevertheless, Saffron’s school experiences would prove Mazy right. Saffron eventually becomes an outcast due to rumors. Soon after, Mazy dies. Saffron would later discover that Mazy was her grandmother after perusing a trove of hidden letters. Turns out that her father had given Saffron up to Mazy before leaving for good.
I should mention that Mazy has a cat named Mr. Pebbles. Mr. Pebbles is the name that Mazy gives to every cat she owns, as though the spirit of Mr. Pebbles passes on to each new cat. Mr. Pebbles manages to convey an interesting symbolic presence. He constantly reacts to the atmosphere of the house as if actually aware of the plot-defining circumstances that surround him A perfect example of Mr. Pebbles’ curious behavior was when he refused to leave Mazy’s corpse’s side. His stubbornness was what ultimately let Saffron know that Mazy passed away.
My final thoughts: the novel has an interesting premise, a good usage of cats, and the main plot twist makes sense. However, the book was too long. I regret not skipping pages, if not entire chapters. Mind you, the book doesn’t surpass 400 pages. Too much repetition. The plot finally moves near the end; although it does make you wonder if Saffron was supposed to be wrong within the previous 250 pages. She becomes grateful for being caged in a house, alone, and abandoned by her father. Mazy becomes a saint. While Mazy is a larger than life disciplinarian and Saffron is too good at school, I cannot suspend my disbelief that she would simply abandon her life and head towards the man that abandoned her. Perhaps death turned Mazy into a saint, but she should be confused about life.
So, if you’re in the mood for a quick read filled with angst, a substantial amount of nostalgia-laden flashbacks and a cool cat, I’d recommend it. But if you want a fast-paced thriller, I’d suggest you keep looking.