In the early nineties, newlywed Ruth Flint arrives at Echo Hall to find an unhappy house full of mysteries that its occupants won’t discuss. When her husband, Adam, is called up to the Gulf War, her shaky marriage is tested to the core.During World War 2 Elsie Flint is living at Echo Hall with her unsympathetic inlaws. While her husband,Jack is away with the RAF, his cousin Daniel is her only … her only support. But Daniel is hiding a secret that will threaten their friendship forever.
At the end of the Edwardian era, Rachel and Leah Walters meet Jacob Flint, an encounter leading to conflict that will haunt the family throughout World War 1 and beyond.
As Ruth discovers the secrets of Echo Hall, will she be able to bring peace to the Flint family, and in doing so, discover what she really wants and needs?
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I loved the concept behind this book and it does make for good reading. However, there are a few too many inconsistencies that I can’t ignore.
Atmospheric doesn’t even begin to describe this book. Spanning the lives of three women and three different wars, the author has created a story that spans time while pulling out the common threads of each of the women. I liked how the house was a character unto itself. It had almost as much to do with the life trajectories of the women as their personal choices did. Not only were the women ultimately unhappy, but the stresses of war played a part in each of their lives. It was just a whole lot of sad and kind of eerie, but all expertly woven together. For a full review, please visit Fireflies and Free Kicks. Thank you to Unbound and Damp Pebbles for a digital copy of the book.
When I started reading this novel, I wasn’t quite in the mood for reading. But as I read, I grew engrossed in this story. Or should I say, stories?
The book opens with an unnamed narrator taking a tour of Echo Hall. She was born there, she tells us, but doesn’t remember this strange but familiar place. “Unhappiness seeps through the walls,” she says, and it’s true. Every story that follows this framing story is threaded through with the unhappy spirit of Echo Hall.
The book turns to the unhappy newlyweds Adam and Ruth arriving at Echo Hall. Adam’s grandfather Jack lives there and he’s in precarious health, unable to take care of the family business. As Adam dives into the management of the quarry, Ruth is confounded by the mysteries of this place. She begins hearing voices and seeing people that no one else sees or hears. And no one, not even her husband, wants to tell her any of the secrets of Echo Hall. So she decides to search for the truth herself. What she uncovers is a dark tale of jealousy and hatred, but also a story of love and hope.
The narrative turns to Jack and Elsie’s story. Within that story, Daniel (Jack’s cousin, and Elsie’s friend) lets Elsie read his parents’ story through his mother Rachel’s letters to a dear friend. There we get the tale of the “Porcelain Sisters”, Rachel and her sister Leah (who is Jack’s mother) when they met Jacob Flint of Echo Hall.
With all of these names, this may sound confusing. But it’s not. Moffatt does a great job making connections between the three eras, and the major characters have distinct personalities. I particularly enjoyed the Elsie/Jack/Daniel story.
Certain elements of the book reminded me of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. (It helps that I’d just re-read that novel.) Neither Ruth nor the unnamed narrator know what lies in store for them as they arrive at their new homes with their barely-known husbands. A desolate, foreboding landscape. Deadly secrets. A house haunted by the ghostly presence of its former occupants. A locked, forbidden area of the house. And there’s even a wardrobe mishap that is shades of Manderley’s costume ball disaster. And though Echo Hall’s real housekeeper is kinder than Mrs. Danvers, the unhappy Leah Flint plays the role of Rebecca‘s obsessive, jealous housekeeper quite well as she torments her daughter-in-law.
While this book is quite different, of course–it’s got more of a family saga feel and thank heavens all the women have names!–these are fun nods to du Maurier’s classic Gothic suspense novel. I enjoyed them a lot.
War haunts this novel. It’s sometimes a little heavy-handed but given the time periods when the stories take place, this preoccupation is understandable. War (and people’s views of it) divides the relationships in this family. It also gives rise to my favorite character: Daniel.
Daniel is a Quaker, like his parents, Rachel and Joseph. But by the time World War II rolls around, both his parents are dead. As a Quaker, he’s a conscientious objector. He wrestles with what type of person he is, ashamed that he’s unlike his father, who was willing to go to jail for his pacifism. But he’s also unlike those in their village who are willing to die for their belief in their country. This includes his cousin and best friend, Jack.
Daniel fears he’s a coward. But he cannot go against his conscience and fight. He doesn’t know how to handle this internal turmoil as it threatens to turn external. I found his inner conflict compelling and moving. The dilemma of conscientious objectors in a time of war isn’t often discussed in historical fiction. Moffatt does a great job with this element, letting the issue arise naturally from within the character rather than building this character around the issue.
The book does sometimes feel heavy-handed on the war theme. Everyone seems to be at war: Adam and Ruth, Elsie versus her in-laws, Leah versus Rachel versus Jacob, friends and lovers and enemies alike are all in conflict. And that doesn’t even count the external wars happening during the various stories’ events: both World Wars and the Gulf War, the predicament of conscientious objectors during a time of war, and the suffragettes fight for the right to vote. It’s not that I disliked any of the individual elements–I enjoyed most a great deal!–but sometimes the theme felt too obvious, especially in the conflict between Ruth and Adam.
Still, I enjoyed the book a great deal. It’s readable and captivating. Though there are many dark, horrible things lurking in the stories, there are just as many beautiful moments of reconciliation and love–and hope.
In the end, the story reminds us that there is always hope. People can change. Enemies can reconcile. Good can come from evil. We can love those with whom we disagree. While we should never forget the past, we don’t have to allow it to determine our future. The past does not have to repeat itself. In its own unique way, Echo Hall gives us a message that we desperately need in our troubled times.
Thanks to Emma Welton of damppebbles blog tours, the author, and Unbound publishers for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review