Welcome back to the Forgotten Library; as always, I’m Nikki Gee and today, we are going back to the purple-prose laden favorite, V.C. Andrews, and the fifth, and final, book in the Dollanganger series, Garden of Shadows. (Well, “final” is apparently not quite true these days, but we’ll get to that later).
Right from the jump, I’m going to put a content warning, so you can skip this episode if you need to, but if you’re familiar with any of Andrews’ work, you know it includes sexual assault, incest, child abuse, and other things of that ilk, so listener discretion is advised.
Cleo Virginia Andrews, the Gothic horror queen, only published a few novels before her death from breast cancer at the age of 63. She was a recluse for most of her adult life, after the arthritis that began in her early teens resulted in her using a wheelchair and crutches. Flowers in the Attic, her first book, was published in 1979 and was an instant bestseller. Three more of the Dollanganger series (Petals on the Wind, If There Be Thorns, and Seeds of Yesterday), the standalone My Sweet Audrina, and the first two of the Casteel family series (Heaven and Dark Angel) were published during her lifetime.
At the time of her death in 1986, her estate was valued at approximately $8 million (about $22 million today). Her surviving relatives wanted her name to live on, and the Tax Court ruled that her name was considered a taxable asset – I’ve always found this so interesting, and I wonder if the same thing would happen today. When James Patterson kicks it, will we still see his name on books for all eternity? We know he already has ghostwriters; he has to, to churn out all the product he does. Hmm.
Anyway, the family selected a ghostwriter to flesh out Virginia’s remaining story ideas (she had some story outlines and partially finished tales ready to go, apparently; how many is a subject for debate) and publish them with her name still emblazoned on the cover. Starting in 1990, with the publication of Dawn, a letter was placed at the beginning of the newer novels informing readers of the decision. The identity of the ghostwriter was a secret for many years, but was eventually revealed as Andrew Neiderman, who has written thrillers under his own name.
Fun fact: THIS was the book that a library worker tried to take out of my hands when I attempted to check it out at ten years old; this caused a showdown between my mother and the library page, who eventually checked it out on my mother’s card, but my mom was sure to inform her that I was allowed to read it anyway. Hah.
Let’s get to it!
[break]
So, Garden of Shadows is a prequel, essentially, of the rest of the Dollanganger series that started with Flowers in the Attic; it’s written from the point of view of Olivia Foxworth, neé Winfield – aka, the evil grandmother. According to some sources, Andrews had notes or an outline for this one written out prior to her death, and there are some discrepancies, which we’ll get into later.
We begin with a prologue, in the form of a note appended to the Last Will and Testament of Olivia Winfield Foxworth, “to be opened twenty years after my death.” Olivia states that she is forced to tell her own story, when she would much rather have kept it to her grave and beyond. She dares her readers to judge her after you discover what she has been through. And what Olivia has been through is a doozy . . . or de rigueur for Andrews books, depending on your perspective!
We begin with the dollhouse – Olivia’s father purchased it for her when she was a little girl, but it was enclosed in a glass case and she was never permitted to play with it. She would gaze at it as a little girl, and hope that this was her future – the happy family, light and bright; even on overcast days, the glass case would spread rainbows on the floor. In her real life, everything was gray – her stern eyes are that color, and she’s twenty-four at the beginning of this chronicle, so already a “spinster” by the standards of her time. Her mother died when she was sixteen, so it is just Olivia and her father, rattling around a house that it is too big for them.
Olivia’s days are filled with books, dreams of a future that seems to be dwindling, and working for her father as his accountant. Olivia’s mother had run the household, and while her father thought that was fine and womanly, he encouraged Olivia to go to business school and learn about finances. Olivia seems to sense that this angle is to offer more to a potential husband, as she is not dainty or fragile or conventionally attractive – she is also six feet tall, towering over nearly all of the men that have come to call over the years. Olivia’s fear is also that someone would come to wed her, but for her family’s money. Mr. Winfield also must have been concerned by this, as he has it written into his will that her inheritance is hers alone and no one else is allowed to touch it.
One night, he tells her to wear her best dress for a man is coming to call. Olivia has been through this before, and it never comes to anything, so she is reluctant, but she obeys. The dinner guest is Malcolm Neal Foxworth; he’s a bit taller than her, and extremely handsome. So, of course, she’s even more sad about having to go through this charade, because someone like this can’t possibly be interested in gangly, awkward, Olivia Winfield, who believes in women’s rights. But Malcolm seems genuinely impressed that Olivia has a business degree and handles her father’s bookkeeping; he says he finds most of the “so-called beautiful women” vapid, and prefers a woman who can think for herself and be a real asset to her husband.
Olivia finds herself quite taken with him; he is interested to hear her opinions and conversation, and then later, he accompanies her on a walk. He asks why she isn’t married yet, and she counters with why isn’t HE? Which amuses him. But he says that he feels they share some things in common; they both lost their mothers at an early age, they both appreciate business, and he admires a woman with a good, sensible head on her shoulders. She asks about his mom; he says he lost her when he was five.
They return to the house and make a date for the next night. He takes her to a good restaurant for dinner. The following day, he accompanies her and her father to church, where Olivia endures the nosy stares at the hot fella who is sitting with HER, of all people; then they go horseback riding, and back to her house for Sunday dinner and another walk along the river, and at this point, he is basically like, “No need to belabor the point; we’re two sensible people, so I’d like to ask your father’s blessing to marry you. My instincts are always good, and I’m confident this will be a good match for us both.”
Olivia agrees and hopes that now, they will kiss. But they don’t; they go back to the house, arm-in-arm, so that Malcolm can speak with her father. Mr. Winfield makes it a point to mention that his daughter will come into a sizable fortune upon his death, and that money is to be hers alone, as is stipulated in his will. Malcolm has no qualms about this, he says he prefers a small wedding, as he should be returning to Virginia for business, and they shake on it.
Olivia is pinching herself, sure it is just a dream. Now she will have what she has envied from the porcelain family all her life. In this first blush of excitement and emotion, she forgot that never once when Malcolm spoke with her, or her father, did he mention the word “love.”
The wedding is put together very quickly, due to Malcolm’s pressing business concerns. He promises a honeymoon later, after she’s all settled in at Foxworth Hall (and here is where the house is always mentioned by its full name, no matter what, for the rest of the book). Olivia doesn’t mind that her wedding is quick or abrupt; she’s still happy. She doesn’t have any friends to invite, and the only family other than her father is her aunt and her nephew, John Amos (if that name rings a bell, it’s the creepy butler from the other books). At this point, John Amos is eighteen and very pious, always quoting the Bible. These two are still more than Malcolm’s guest list, as his father, Garland, has been traveling and away from home for a bit, and he has no brothers or sisters, so no one is there to represent his side.
The ceremony is a pretty solemn affair, and the kiss, so anticipated by Olivia, is merely perfunctory. John Amos stares at the new couple oddly. Olivia’s father is pleased, but she also sees something in his look when he stares at Malcolm from time to time, but smiles again when he is caught by his daughter. They have a small reception back at Olivia’s home and he toasts them. John Amos tells Olivia that he is her only family and whenever she needs him, he will be there for her. At the time she finds this a bit off-putting, because she barely knows him, and what a thing to say on this day, of all days! Of course, knowing what she knows now, penning this, she wonders what he knew or sensed, even back then . . .
The couple leave for Foxworth Hall that afternoon; he says there is no practical sense in a prolonged honeymoon, and anyway, there isn’t time. So that’s a promise broken already. He says that “coming to Foxworth will be romantic adventure enough” for her, which, what the hell does that even mean? It’s a mansion. She leaves the dollhouse, of course, which makes me wonder when it comes to Foxworth for Corinne; if you recall, she gives it to the twins in Flowers. Maybe after Olivia’s father died? It’s never mentioned again.
As they ride to the train station, she asks about Foxworth Hall, and Malcolm says that it’s the wealthiest home in Virginia, but he wants it to be the wealthiest in the country, nay, the world. A castle from which to do his all-important business. On the train, she is very hungry and he orders very stingily because the prices are ridiculous and they must economize at ALL times. She listens to the discussion of the men on the train and she disagrees with what they’re saying but she realizes she can’t say anything publicly and hates that. He eventually falls asleep and Olivia marvels how young his face looks in repose. She hopes this is the face he will turn to her in love, in secret, and wishes her mother was around to talk to about relationships.
The station is, as it would be years later when her daughter and grandchildren make the same trek, a roof supported by four posts, miles away from anywhere and deadly quiet. Malcolm’s driver picks them up and they begin the drive to the house. Olivia sees it as it first comes into view, high on the hill, seeming to look down on all the other houses. There are only a few servants, as Malcolm felt his father had too many people on the payroll – so, the driver, who is also the butler, a cook, a gardener, and a maid. Olivia asks how that can be enough for a house with thirty or forty rooms (he’s not sure of the exact count), and he says, Well, now there is you, too; when she says that she’s not here to be a servant, he says that they don’t use all the rooms, and after she’s settled in, he’s sure that she will evaluate the needs of the home and make the proper arrangements, as that is now her responsibility.
Despite herself, Olivia is curious about what his house will reveal about Malcolm. He doesn’t carry her over the threshold, which is another disappointment for her. The maid, Mrs. Steiner, pops out and introduces herself, and Olivia follows her to her bedroom. As they travel through the home, Olivia looks about her at all the cold opulence – the oil portraits of ancestors, the crystal chandeliers, the marble busts. There’s also a huge library full of leather-bound tomes.
Upstairs, in the southern wing, is Malcolm’s trophy room and a set of doors, painted white, that are closed. Malcolm says very emphatically that NO ONE goes into this room, which was his mother’s. He is very cold when he says it, and Olivia wonders what kind of man hates his mother like that? They lead her to her own bedroom, which has a feminine touch, but also feels hastily thrown together. Malcolm has his own bedroom; they will not be sharing. He kisses her quickly on the cheek and says goodnight, and Mrs. Steiner remains to give her a tour of the ensuite bathroom and how things are handled in the home. Finally, she senses how fatigued Olivia is and leaves her to her rest. Olivia takes out a piece of lingerie that she had had made for her wedding night, with a plunging V-shaped neckline, and puts it on, hoping that perhaps Malcolm would come to her in the morning. She feels like an unlit candle, and remains so, as he does not come to her, and she eventually falls asleep.
In the morning, Mrs. Steiner comes to her room and tells her that Malcolm has already left the house. Olivia can’t believe they won’t even spend their first full day as husband and wife together. He did not leave a note for her, either. She decides to eat downstairs instead of in her room and gets dressed quickly, feeling that something was terribly wrong. The servants all line up to greet her for the first time, and Olivia immediately takes charge of the home, even though she admits to herself that it is unbelievable overwhelming due to its sheer size. Voices echo, the dining room table is meant for twenty people, that sort of thing.
After breakfast, she resumes her tour and visits the library. There is also a large desk in here where Malcolm said he did his work when at home. Olivia marvels at the six telephones – whatever would one need that many phones for? At the end of the room is a little doorway; inside is a much smaller, drab office, presumably for Olivia to work in. She does concede that he had made his decision to marry rather quickly, and probably didn’t have time to warm up this room, so it would be up to her and she is a bit excited by the prospect.
She next turns her thoughts to the off-limits room; surely he didn’t mean her, too? This would help her to learn more about her husband. She goes upstairs, and as she pauses in front of the doors, Mrs. Steiner sees her there, and looks super-worried. Olivia is short with her and tells her to get on with her work, and when she is out of sight, Olivia turns the knob and goes inside.
And here, in all its glory, is the swan bed, viewed for the first time – on a raised platform, no less, and with the infant swan bed at the foot. The cut-crystal lamps, thick fur rugs, rich silk wallpaper, all here. Olivia wonders about Malcolm’s mother – was she a movie star? She sits down on the bed, lost in thought, idly petting the coverlet, when she is caught by Malcolm himself. He is ANGRY. She tries to explain that she’s only trying to learn more about him, but he says that learning about his mother is not the way. He spits out a diatribe about his mother while he alternates looming over her and wandering around the room, as she sits numbly on the bed.
Corinne was beautiful; she was his world. He was so innocent, for how could he know that beneath her charm was the “heart of a harlot.” All the dresses, the mirrored golden vanity, his father gave in to her every whim. And, she didn’t die, she ran off with another man. The type of woman who only cared about her own pleasure. He sits down next to her on the bed, and continues to whisper about all the ways his mother damaged him by leaving, while proceeding to assault Olivia. While he is raping her, he continually mutters his mother’s name, then gets up off of her and walks out of the room. Olivia was too scared to scream during the attack, but honestly, the servants probably would have ignored her as Malcolm probably trained them never to intervene without his say-so.
After he leaves, Olivia lays on the bed and realizes that Malcolm’s love was already taken by the woman who haunted this room, and so there is none for her.
The next morning, they go on like nothing happened, and Malcolm tells her that the next night will be a big wedding party at Foxworth Hall, and anybody who is anybody will be there. She does not need to help with anything so she continues her exploration of the house, but a little more subdued this time. She comes upon the north wing, and a bedroom with its own bathroom all the way at the far end of the house; it seems to be a good room for hiding people, she thinks to herself. She goes inside and looks around, and finds the door in the closet that leads up to the attic.
She wanders around the attic for a while, seeing the old furniture, and trunks of clothes, and Civil War uniforms. Everything is dusty and worn with the ravages of time, with the exception of a picture frame of a beautiful woman in her late teens. This must be Corinne Foxworth, Olivia thinks. She wonders at the picture being freshly dusted, just like the room. Who was preserving her so lovingly? Malcolm?
She also visits the schoolroom and shudders at how the children were seemingly imprisoned here. It’s all a bit heavy-handed, this foreshadowing, but that is a hallmark of these books.
Later, she asks Malcolm about the north wing, and there were relatives that were hidden away there some time ago. He also denies her permission to bring down the birdcages; they were his mother’s and he hated them. Then he turns to the stock market and his good investment news, and tries to get Olivia to turn her money over to his handling.
She says there’s a lot to get used to and pushes that discussion off to another time, which annoys him and he leaves the house, telling her expressly not to wait up for him.
Olivia feels a bit awkward at her own wedding party. Everything is very proper and formal at first – introductions at the door, caviar and tea sandwiches and petit fours. She inwardly sneers at the latest fashions for women – sacklike dresses and long ropes of beads, with huge flowers for accessories (I’m guessing this is supposed to be the 1920s and flapper wear). Once the crowd gets into the punchbowl, though, things liven up. She can feel a disconnect between her and them, though, a chill over the conversation once she joins in. She concludes to herself that they are all silly, vapid bitches, and only care about fashion.
Meanwhile, Malcolm is among a group of these very women he supposedly despises, too, letting them make a plaything of him – rubbing up against him, laughing at everything he says, taking cake from his fingers. He even takes one to see his library – I suppose because he doesn’t have etchings. Olivia catches him there with her, the woman draped across his desk suggestively. When she points this out later, he has nothing to say. She ascends the stairs to her room, crying as she tries to sleep. At some point during the night, Malcolm comes to her bedside, completely naked and says he wants a son. So he climbs on top and tells her she needs to concentrate on what they’re about to do so that it has a higher chance of succeeding. When he starts pounding away, she notices his eyes go completely vacant and he recedes somewhere inside himself; she wonders who he’s thinking about – the woman in the library? His mother? Oh, honey, I’m sure you know by this point . . .
When he’s finished he says that he hopes that she is as fertile as he expected when he married her; that’s also part of the reason he married her – a good, strong childbearing body. Now she feels even more like a servant. She mentions stronger feelings between them and he hand-waves away “silly prattle” about love and roses; that was the sort of shit his mother liked and wrote about in her letters to his father. Which he burned.
Olivia has a son; they name him Malcolm, but call him Mal for short. Once again, Olivia’s hopes for closeness with her husband are renewed, only to be dashed again when he barely cares what the child does. She, however, is in thrall to this little project, excited for each new milestone. Malcolm is impatient that the child doesn’t seem to grow quickly enough, and won’t allow him at the dinner table.
Two years later, Olivia has another son, who they name Joel. This second pregnancy is harder and Olivia is very sick for most of it; Joel is also born a bit premature, and continues frail and sickly. Malcolm blames Olivia for it, saying that Foxworths are always healthy and strong, so she needs to make sure he changes into a strong aggressive MANLY man.
The doctor tells Olivia that she shouldn’t have any more children, lest it endanger her life, and Malcolm blows his stack. Because he wants a daughter, too. How dare Olivia not be his broodmare! He thinks that she cooked up this story with the doctor so that she could get out of pregnancies. He is even more distant with the children and doesn’t take them all together as a family anywhere until Mal is nearly three, and even then it was to tour the fabric mills he owns.
When they return, there is a telegram for Olivia – her father has died and the funeral is the next day. She tries to leave but Malcolm says she needs to take care of her children. Um, you have servants, right? By the time he allows her to go, she arrives in Connecticut five hours after the funeral has taken place. John Amos is there, and apparently he took care of all the arrangements in her absence. Her father’s lawyer is there, too, and sure enough, the will does stipulate that Mr. Winfield left his entire estate to her, and only her. She begins to cry, wondering why her father let her marry this man.
John Amos becomes her confidante; she tells him everything. He is set to begin his studies at the seminary and in future, they will frequently correspond with one another, and she seeks comfort in his wisdom and counsel.
When she gets back to Virginia, Malcolm begins, once again, to hound her about her money and how she’s going to manage it. She fends him off by saying that she is still grieving and this is certainly not the time. Weeks pass and he barely speaks to her except to ask about her future plans for the estate. Then, one day, he comes into the nursery, a rarity, and tells her (and the children) that his father, Garland, is returning home. He tells her that he will be taking the room next to hers and she is to see that it is made livable, for he won’t be returning alone – he will be bringing home his bride. He married before he left for Europe, and apparently, he didn’t see the need to tell Olivia any of this. He gets irate and scares the children, then leaves, telling his wife to “prepare herself.” For what, exactly? Olivia wonders. She is actually looking forward to having new people in the house, especially another woman that she can, perhaps, make an ally. She is, of course, picturing someone matronly, as Garland is in his fifties.
The day of Garland and Alicia’s arrival, Malcolm and Olivia talk about his mother and how she met his father; Malcolm is predictably misogynistic. When they arrive, Olivia is shocked to see a young girl step out of the car – and what’s more, she’s pregnant. (She is nineteen, by the way). Malcolm is purple when he realizes this. Alicia is, of course, beautiful, with a radiant complexion and graceful neck and hands – essentially, everything Olivia is not.
Garland, though he and Malcolm share the same handsome features, is jovial and loving and warm. Malcolm introduces Olivia, and it’s apparent to her immediately that Garland and Alicia only just learned of her existence, despite three years of marriage and two kids. But Garland seems happy, and also likes some of the liberties Olivia has taken to enliven the place. Alicia is very childlike, wide-eyed, innocent, but tries very hard to ingratiate herself to Olivia from the beginning. And it’s apparent that the servants really enjoy working for Garland, and take to his new bride right away.
At dinner, Garland is surprised that the children are not allowed to eat with them. Malcolm says that they’re not pleasing to the appetite. Garland says that’s just how kids are, it’s how he was, and he ran his mother ragged with all his questions. Poor Corinne had to fight to keep up with him, because he was so exhausting.
The two lovebirds cuddle and kiss at the table and talk all about their European travels, and Olivia looks over and instead of seeing disdain on Malcolm’s face, he has a soft look when he stares at Alicia and his conversation is mainly directed towards her. They have coffee out on the verandah, and Alicia, in the midst of telling a story, nearly falls into Malcolm’s lap and he blushes when he sees Olivia watching them.
As Olivia passes their suite on the way to her bedroom, she wishes that she and Malcolm had a love like that. She eavesdrops on them by putting her ear to the wall and hears them discussing her. Garland says he feels sorry for her because Malcolm doesn’t understand women at all. Olivia lays down and really wants to hate Alicia for being younger, pretty and petite despite her pregnancy, but finds that she can’t, because she knows it’s just jealousy – Alicia has everything she ever wanted for herself.
After the men leave for work the next day, Olivia finds out more about Garland and Alicia’s relationship. He is her father’s oldest friend, and set up Alicia’s dad with his own accountant’s office when he was injured in an accident. Alicia has known him since she was about five or six, and gave her a bracelet when she was twelve. (I’m having distinct flashbacks of Elsie Dinsmore and Edward Travilla, where he said that he was in love with her when she was NINE). They took walks together when she was fourteen, and that was when he kissed her, and she knew then it was LUV. She waxes poetic about their conversations, and sleigh rides, and picnics, all of which is foreign to Olivia. She is fixated on the age difference, which yeah, definitely – even in this time period, I think this would be a little off-putting – but Alicia’s rose-colored glasses seem soldered onto her face. Because Garland looks so young for his age, and being with her keeps him young, and it’s wonderful, don’t you see?
The children really take to Alicia, and she’s the type to get right down on the floor with them and play. Olivia warns her to be careful of her pregnancy, and then has an evil thought – wouldn’t Malcolm love to see her miscarry? The thought lingers like a bad smell for a bit, and the more she thinks about it, the more it makes Olivia HAPPY. Malcolm obviously is worried about money and heirs, but Olivia’s fear is this child will be more beautiful than her sons.
Olivia considers telling Malcolm about this fantasy, but instead settles for more oblique comments, like how Alicia runs up the stairs and gets down in the dirt and digs next to the gardener. Malcolm says it’s none of her business and walks away.
Shortly before Alicia is due, she asks Olivia about the attic, and she tells Alicia she should really check it out for herself. She had previously unscrewed the lightbulb so the stairway is dark. She warns Alicia away from it, but the impulsivity is strong with this one, so she decides to forge ahead in the dark, and Olivia leaves her there, saying “Remember, I told you not to go.”
Olivia can’t even read her book, she’s fantasizing so hard about Olivia hurting herself, or the baby. Perhaps it will make her ugly, and then Malcolm will have nothing to entrance him. The men come home and ask where she is; they both run to the stairwell, Malcolm throwing a cold look at Olivia as he hurries away. But Alicia is fine – she got caught up in trying on some of Corinne’s old dresses and lost track of time.
Alicia gives birth a few weeks later, to a boy named Christopher. He is beautiful and perfect, of course. Malcolm, the hypocrite, comes to see the baby and kiss his stepmother. Olivia has more to be jealous of – beauty, a loving and adoring husband, and a lovely new child.
Garland begins to spend more time at home, which makes Malcolm happy because he feels his father gets in the way of the proper running of the business. Olivia is upset, not because of Garland’s presence itself, but because after a few months at home, the couple are like two teenagers first discovering sex. They closet themselves in their room during the day for hours. One day, she follows them upstairs and presses her ear to the wall to listen, because THAT’S not creepy. She gets excited imagining them in bed together. She overhears them one day planning to go to the lake and she follows them there to watch them make love on the bank.
Malcolm and Garland discuss future finances, and Malcolm tells Olivia that a new will has been drawn up. Malcolm will get the house and the business, and Alicia and Christopher can live at Foxworth for as long as they wish. In addition, Alicia will receive $3m in stocks and Christopher $2m, held in trust; Malcolm will be the administrator. Why is he telling her all this? If she finds out that Garland has any intention of changing anything, Olivia is to let him know immediately. You want me to be a spy? she asks. Aren’t you already? he says, smiling snidely, then leaves.
Alicia decides that she wants to move into the Swan Room. No, not desecrating Mommy’s shrine! Malcolm is upset that his father is, once again, indulging a foolish woman. And once again, Olivia wants to know how he knows all this when he was five years old – he insists he was very precocious and understood ALL THE THINGS.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter – whatever Alicia wants, Alicia gets, and swanny bed little Alicia wants you. Malcolm walks past the door like the light will burn him, until one day, he says to Olivia that it’s “disgusting” what goes on in there now, which leads her to wonder – did he walk in on them, or listened in from the trophy room? No, it’s actually a bit worse – behind a picture on the wall of Garland dressed in safari gear, is a neatly gouged hole – and the view shows the bed and all its activities in full view. This family so creeptastic. I don’t want to think about any of my family members doing that; I’m aware it happens, but that’s all I need or want to know.
Christopher is now a year and a half old; Joel is two and a half, and Mal is five. Malcolm decided that they would be taught at home, so an old Sunday-school teacher, Mr. Chillingworth, comes to the house and they use the attic schoolroom. Olivia feels that he is way too strict, but Malcom says that they need discipline.
Anyway, one day, it’s a hot summer day and Olivia feels sorry for the boys being upstairs; it’s sweltering enough away from the attic. Alicia feels the same, and tries to entice Olivia to go for a dip in the lake. Olivia says she doesn’t own a bathing suit, but Alicia says, that’s fine, we’ll skinny dip. Olivia says, Whatever, that’s super unladylike and I won’t be a party to it, and Alicia says, Okay, old maid, I’m gonna go alone, and she does. Malcolm comes home early that day and sees Alicia rounding the bend, making for the lake, and he follows her. Olivia follows at a distance to see what happens.
Malcolm threatens to get in the water with Alicia, then to take her clothes so she’ll have to come out naked. He says that she is so beautiful, and that she should have been HIS wife instead, then gets into the water; she screams and heads for shore, shouting that she’s going to tell Garland how he “keeps trying” to seduce her, scoops up her clothes, and runs off. Instead of pursuing her, Malcolm gets dressed himself, muttering that Alicia will “pay dearly” for the insults she threw (she also said that he’s not half the man his father is), and that’s she a little conniving slut and he obviously has to be more subtle.
When Garland is away from home, Malcolm is cruel to Alicia, and Olivia feels moved to defend her but she never does. Because she’s still angry that Alicia is a beautiful young woman and is tempting her husband with her very proximity. You complicit bitch.
Meanwhile, Garland seems to be aging a bit; he’s taking longer naps by himself, he’s not eating as much as he used to, and he comes down with a cold that lingers for a good chunk of the winter. Alicia keeps turning to Olivia for her guidance and wisdom as the older woman, but she is cold and distant to her. And soon, Alicia loses her cheerfulness, stops going out as much with her girlfriends, and spends a lot of time with the children. She teaches the boys how to play the piano, which peeves Malcolm, because he believes that’s a weak, effeminate thing to learn. Olivia lets it go on, because it pleases her to piss off Malcolm, even by proxy. She likens herself to an audience member in a performance, observing, not participating, but realizes now that her selfish pleasure and inaction was causing something more evil to grow within these shadowy halls.
They throw a party for Christopher’s third birthday; Olivia sees Malcolm watching Alicia as she sets up the games for the children, and she sees a frightening amount of longing in those eyes. He has his eyes on her all day, and then Alicia goes upstairs to rest from the fatigues of the day. Later, she hears a scream in from the bedroom, and Olivia rushes up the stairs in time to see Garland crumple to the floor, clutching his chest. Alicia’s nightgown Is torn, and Malcolm is standing over his father’s prone body, red-faced, fists balled. Olivia calls for the doctor, and by the time he arrives, Garland is dead, apparently of a heart attack. No one is particularly surprised, due to his age. Later, Alicia will tell Olivia, after the latter’s consistent prodding, that Malcolm came into her room and assaulted her. There was a struggle and at one point, Alicia managed to get Malcolm’s hand off her mouth enough to scream; Garland came running, and the two men fought, which was enough exertion, presumably, to cause Garland’s collapse.
Olivia confronts Malcolm and he basically shrugs and says his father was a sick man anyway, and it wasn’t his fault; Alicia is the one to blame, with her feminine wiles and her tempting body. And if she hadn’t called for help, his father would not have run to help and died, so . . .
Alicia drifts through the house like a ghost. All of her color, her vibrancy, is gone. Olivia takes her in hand, making sure she eats, looking after Christopher, but Alicia has retreated inside herself and into the arms of tranquilizers. (Which would have been what, exactly? It’s too early for barbiturates; I know this is such a tiny detail that probably everyone glossed over, but this bugs me. I’m presuming some sort of early opiate but my research is failing me. Anyway). Malcolm doesn’t look her way anymore, which is easy to do, Olivia says, because she isn’t making up her face, or doing her hair, and is wearing drab clothing.
Olivia finally has had enough and gives Alicia a stern talking-to. She tells her she needs to wake up and take care of her child. Maybe she should even think about leaving, starting over again somewhere else; she has money enough to support herself, and she’s young enough that she could get married again. Alicia, like the dutiful child she is, makes up her face, puts on her beautiful clothes again, and this wakes Malcolm up, too. He claims that his father’s will is tangled up a bit with probate, certain clauses that need to be looked into, etc. But Alicia is in no hurry to leave; she still feels Garland’s spirit here, and feels his own son should grow up there, too.
Alicia becomes more like herself again, but avoids Malcolm as much as she can while still being civil. One night, Olivia wakes up to hear Alicia crying out, and she sounds afraid. She knocks on the door, to no response, and the door is locked. Olivia concludes it’s probably a bad dream and goes back to sleep. Alicia begins to alternate between energetic and moody, and a week later, Olivia hears crying again in the middle of the night.
The next day, Olivia goes up to her room, where Alicia is lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Alicia tells her that Malcolm has been coming to her room at night and forcing himself on her. Which, of course, Olivia knew this was happening, and would continue to happen, while she in the house. But of course, Olivia, despite her hatred of Malcolm blaming the woman, does it herself in this conversation and in her thoughts: why did Alicia remain in this room that holds so much sensual power? Why didn’t she lock the door? Well, obviously, Malcolm has a key; it’s his house. Why are you permitting him to do this? Because he threatened to hurt Christopher. And Olivia knows all too well how violent her husband can be. He calls Alicia by his mother’s name when he assaults her, of course. One night, he even made Alicia put one of Corinne’s old nightgowns on and made her pretend she was getting ready for bed.
Olivia wants to know why Alicia is suddenly telling her all this, especially since she is afraid for Christopher. Well, because . . . Alicia is pregnant. With Malcolm’s child.
*dun dun DUN*
Malcolm knows; Alicia told him earlier that day. He wants her to stay here, have the child in secret, then force her and Christopher out of the house. He will give her all the money Garland left, but she must leave the baby. If she doesn’t agree to this plan, he will drag her through the court and she won’t get a cent of Garland’s money because he will paint her as a gold digger and a slut. So she is turning to Olivia in her hour of need. What should she do?
Do? Olivia sneers, feeling herself harden for this next phase of her life. You have done enough. There is no choice, she continues. You must do as Malcolm says. Tell people you’re intending to leave Foxworth Hall so that when you go into hiding, no one will wonder. Christopher will also be under the impression that you are going on a trip. When you “return,” you will take him and leave.
She will be shut into the room in the north wing, the one with the adjoining bath, so that no one will see her during her confinement. The boys will be sent away to school so that no one will be near the attic. All the servants will be dismissed, but they’ll be given two years’ worth of salary so there will be no complaints. Olivia will feign a pregnancy of her own. And of course, Olivia will provide Alicia with everything that she needs, so that no maid need come in. Alicia says that she will feel “imprisoned.” Olivia shrugs and says we all are, in one way or another. In Alicia’s case, it’s her beauty; and that’s another thing – we should cut off your hair, so this way Malcolm won’t be as attracted to you anymore. You’re going to be awfully defenseless in that north wing . . . .
Olivia descends the stairs to put her plans into action, reveling in the fact that now EVERYONE in the house, including Malcolm will be dependent on her. [You are now under my control; you will do whatever I say].
To fast forward a little bit, all of this is done. Olivia gets Malcolm to agree to holding $1 million for each of his sons in trust until they turn eighteen, which he balks at, but she threatens to expose the whole charade, come what may. Alicia gets a bit bonkers being cooped up for months and imagines all sorts of scenarios for herself, and Olivia is concerned that Malcolm might be visiting her at night and Alicia is thinking he is Garland, so she creeps up into the attic one night, from the other entrance, but gets lost and frightens herself so badly that she resolves never to go up into the attic again.
Alicia has her baby, a little girl, just as Malcolm had predicted. He names her . . . Corinne. Olivia is shocked, but Malcolm’s explanation is that it will be his way to “keep constantly aware of the deceitful, beguiling ways of beautiful women,” and he will never be so hurt again. Foreshadowing adjusts the baby’s blanket and recedes into the closet.
The next day, Olivia goes to look for Christopher, to introduce him to the new baby – but it’s too late, he and his mother are already gone, spirited away under cover of night without so much as a goodbye. Malcolm throws a giant Christmas party to introduce his new days-old daughter to society. This becomes the pattern – while he barely threw his sons a crumb, NOTHING is too good for his darling Corinne. She has a nurse, her own nursery, she’s allowed to eat at the table when she’s a little older. He gets her deportment lessons. She is a beautiful child, and spoiled by everyone – Malcolm, her brothers, and even Olivia cannot help but be captivated by her.
Meanwhile, Olivia finds solace in religion; she keeps up her correspondence with John Amos and he comes to visit and provides her with a program of Bible readings. Malcolm tries to take his sons’ trust fund back by offering to “invest it properly,” but they are wise to him and fend him off. Olivia also warns her sons to stop spoiling their sister, as she needs to learn she can’t always get what she wants. When Corinne is eighteen, she asks her father if she can have the room with the swan bed in it. Malcolm turns white and says that it’s haunted and she can’t live in it, but Corinne waves his ghost stories away. Olivia lets her in the room when Malcolm isn’t home, and would watch her from the trophy room peephole, wandering about and pretending to be a fancy lady. Olivia isn’t worried about a ghost haunting that room, either; more like the devil, corrupting any innocent young girl who lived there.
The oldest son, Mal, buys a motorcycle, something his father had expressly forbid. One day, he takes Corinne for a ride; Olivia had her misgivings but relented to a short ride down the driveway. Well, they take the ride a little further down the road, Mal lets Corinne off the bike, and then he loses control and goes over the cliff. John Amos presides over the funeral service. Olivia invites him to stay on at Foxworth Hall, as a butler in name but predominantly her assistant and confidante.
Joel decides not to return to school and instead begins touring with an orchestra in Europe. Olivia revels in the clippings he sends. Then one day, she receives a telegram, which says Joel was lost in an avalanche with five of his companions; they have not recovered a body, but he is presumed dead. Malcolm goes into seclusion and will not attend the memorial service, as he believes there is no point; how do they know Joel is actually dead when there is no body?
Even Corinne’s winning ways are no match for Malcolm’s gloom. John Amos says that Malcolm is now immersing himself in religion and that is what she should do, too. Corinne just wants everyone to be happy again. When Malcolm finally returns to the rest of the house, he looks older and frailer. Then the letter from Alicia arrives. It is addressed to Malcolm and details what happened to her after she left Foxworth Hall: she married a doctor, who was small-town and never made much money; she lost most of her wealth in the stock market crash; her husband died from an unexplained illness; Christopher has grown into a fine young man, very bright, and wants to attend medical school; Alicia has no money to do this for him, and she is also dying of breast cancer. She asks if they would take him in and help him achieve his dream of becoming a doctor like his stepfather. He knows nothing about Corinne and what precipitated their flight from Foxworth Hall, so she leaves it up to Malcolm to tell him whatever he sees fit.
Olivia sees this letter as divine intervention; God has forgiven their sins and is giving them Christopher to replace Mal and Joel. Malcolm needs to rectify his wrongs, so she tells him that they need to take Christopher in and provide for him. It is God’s will. So he agrees, and Christopher comes to live with them. Olivia tells Corinne that Christopher is her half-uncle and he will be living with them; she expects that Corinne will treat him with the respect deserving of an elder, despite only three years separating them.
Corinne is happy that someone nearer her age will be coming to stay; and of course, when he arrives, she is quite taken with his dashing good looks. And he is enamoured of her, too. At first, it all seems merely chummy, two young folks palling around, but John Amos, that sneaky bastard, tells Olivia of his suspicions that something unwholesome is brewing. Olivia, despite her trust of John Amos, hand-waves this all away as the rantings of a weirdly obsessed man, until one day, as she heads to tell Christopher the good news that he had been accepted to medical school, she hears him and Corinne behind her bedroom door whispering their love for each other. Olivia eases the door open a crack and finds them entangled on the swan bed. John Amos sees Olivia standing shocked in the doorway and throws the door wide open to expose them mid-intercourse. He screams at them, damning their souls to everlasting fire and torment.
Olivia goes to Malcolm to tell him what has happened. The kids burst in and say that they are in love and want to get married and aren’t they happy for them? Malcolm says that they have made a mockery of marriage; this is incestuous, plain and simple. He screams that Christopher is Judas. He wishes their children to be deformed due to this unholy union. He screams for them to get out of the house, and they are DEAD to him, do you hear? Never darken this door again.
They leave and the strain is so great that Malcolm has a stroke. He is in the hospital for a month, then they take him home. He remains in a wheelchair and speaks hesitantly, moves slowly. All of his business now falls to Olivia. She finally confesses the full truth of Christopher and Corinne’s relationship to John Amos. He says that Olivia needs to take control of this heathen household and turn it to a Godly house.
A few years go by, then Malcolm asks Olivia for a favor: would she hire a private detective to find out what happened to Corinne and Christopher? Are they okay? Did they end up having any children? She receives the reports but does not tell him anything. She is surprised to find that all of the children, over the years, seem to be healthy and bright, and not suffering from this close of a union.
The years pass; Malcolm gets frailer. Olivia ages, as well, but she continues to invest in the business and make more money. She avoids large chunks of the house, has much of the furniture taken up to the attic for storage.
Then one day, the fateful letter from Corinne arrives. Despite herself, Olivia’s heart jumps a little when she sees the still rather girlish handwriting. In Flowers, Cathy says that her mother wrote several letters, but in this book, only one is sent, which tells of Christopher’s tragic death on his birthday and that Corinne is at the end of her financial tether and begs to return home.
Olivia is shocked; no matter how wrong they had been, she never would have wished THIS upon them. Had god misunderstood her prayers? She seeks the wisdom of John Amos, who says that she must let the family come, and then hide the children away forever. “End the lineage of sin now.” Olivia hears this but still prays for her own guidance. She does not want to be a captor, a vengeful instrument. She wants to be a grandmother, to dote on little ones, bestow her love upon them. But no, she must steel herself against these “devil’s spawn.”
By the next morning, she has resolved to carry out John Amos’ plan. She tells Malcolm that Corinne is coming home. She does NOT, however, tell him about the children, for she knows that they will capture his heart, especially the little girls, and that can NOT happen. (So, this, once again, contradicts Flowers, as the letter Corinne receives has a little note from her father at the bottom that he was happy there was no “Devil’s issue” from her union with Christopher, whereas here, only Olivia writes a letter back and she does not let him look at it. In addition, Christopher Jr. later learns that Malcolm was aware of their existence the whole time, and was content to let them rot in the north wing; perhaps Olivia told him later). Olivia writes back and says that the children will have to stay in the north wing until Malcolm dies; if they reveal themselves, they will all have to leave as destitute as they came.
And so, on a night much like the night Olivia first came to Foxworth Hall, Corinne and the children arrive on the late night train. This is all detailed in Flowers: the long walk from the depot (Olivia didn’t dare send a car because no one must know about the children), their first ominous view of Foxworth Hall, looming over all the houses in the valley below, Olivia being the only one to greet them and sequester them in the infamous north wing of the house. When she herds them into the room and finally snaps on a light, she gets a good first look at the children; they are beautiful – Christopher looks like his father, Cathy just like her mother at that age, the twins with cherubic faces and frightened eyes. She must not weaken and love them, even though she wants to, and her resolve is further strengthened when she sees the look that Christopher gives Cathy as they watch Corinne and Olivia leave. “A smile that sent a cold chill up my spine – the smile of Christopher for Corinne.” (And that’s bullshit by the way, because they don’t start getting intimate until much, MUCH later).
John Amos made her see the light, so she straightens her back, pushes out that bosom of twin hills of concrete, and locks the door behind her.
[break]
As I have discussed briefly in other episodes, V.C. Andrews novels do hew to the Gothic novel format. Obviously the house is sinister and foreboding (recall the descriptions of it from both Cathy and Olivia’s points of view when they come upon the first time, at night), and become a character in its own right – which is perhaps why it is always called by its entire name for the million times it is mentioned in the various tales.
Juliann Fleenor coined the phrase “female Gothic,” which is perhaps more apt for Andrews’ novels:
“it provokes ambivalent feelings toward female sexuality and the female role; second, it reflects a patriarchal culture that suggests that women are flawed because they are female; and finally it portrays women as literally and symbolically motherless even as they are controlled and shaped by fathers or father figures” (Fleenor, quoted in Huntley, 1996).
Malcolm Foxworth blames every woman in his life for his misfortunes: his mother for abandoning him, his stepmother for his desire for her. Alicia, who has no way to stand up for herself or anywhere to turn after Garland dies, becomes an “unwitting collaborator in her own destruction.”
Let’s talk briefly about some symbolism here – the most glaring of which is that swan bed. While swans are a common motif in literature, the myth of Leda and the swan is perhaps most (in)appropriate here. Leda, the wife of Tyndareus (the Spartan king), is raped by Zeus, who comes to her disguised as a swan; she becomes pregnant from this violent coupling and becomes the mother of chaos – in some versions of the myth, Leda gives birth to Clytemnestra and Helen of Troy, who go on to perpetuate more tragedy (the Trojan war, the murders in the house Atreus, or Agamemnon’s family).
In Garden of Shadows, Alicia, another man’s wife, is violated by Malcolm and forced to bear his child. The fallout continues to curse the family into the second generation – with Christopher and Corinne falling in love with each other – and then the third generation – when Christopher and Cathy become intimate and have children, as well.
So, this is supposed to be the end of the Dollanganger series, but that hack ghostwriter Neidermann has published three – that’s right, THREE – more books in this series. Christopher’s Diary: Secrets of Foxworth, Christopher’s Diary: Echoes of Dollanganger, and Secret Brother. I’m tempted, y’all, but should we put this series to bed and move on to a different fucked-up family? Spotify has a poll option now, so I’m going to create one – let me know your thoughts!
In addition, I’m thinking of a bonus episode or two to discuss the films – there was a movie in 1987, and then, of course, the Lifetime movies from a few years ago. Libraries have movies, too, remember!!
Well, that’s the show. Please like, subscribe, all that good stuff. The Forgotten Library has a Facebook page as well as Twitter – and I do try my best to update both! Transcripts, as always, are on the website. And if you enjoy what I do and would like to show a little appreciation, you can Buy Me a Coffee. Think of it as a tip jar that takes Stripe.
Until next time, I’m Nikki Gee, your intrepid library haunter.
Sources
Andrews, V.C. Garden of Shadows (1987). New York: Pocket Books.
Huntley, E.D. (1996). V.C. Andrews: a Critical Companion. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc.