THE CORNFLAKE HOUSE

A debut novel describing a young woman’s coming-of-age in an English family only slightly less dysfunctional than the Mitfords or the Krays. Narrator Eve never knew who her father was. That’s unusual, perhaps, but not exactly freakish nowadays. Her mother, Victory, was, after all, quite the free spirit—a Gypsy fortuneteller with a knack for magic and clairvoyance—and showed a distinct lack of interest in men during Eve’s childhood. But, unlike a typical hippie dropout with the odd child in tow, Victory has managed to accumulate seven: Eve is the eldest, but she has two sisters (Zulema and Perdita) and four brothers (Fabian, Merry, Django, and Samik) as well. She tells her story from prison (—I am Eve, with a long history and a personality which goes way beyond my crime—) to Matthew, a pen-pal with whom she’s become infatuated in the best jailhouse tradition. Why she is in prison is more or less the point—or, at least, the climax—of the story: suffice it to say that she burned down a house that still had someone in it (she had a very good reason) and that afterward all the authorities basically misunderstood the situation. That’s par for the course. Eve’s mother once won a breakfast cereal contest and was awarded a house in a starchy English suburb as first prize, so her children got an early taste of living among people much duller and more narrow-minded than themselves. It made them all tough and independent, but it also left them vulnerable to their neighbors— suspicions—and worse. Eventually, these reach a climax at Eve’s trial, where certain facts about Victory are revealed that surprise even her children. Rambling and too long, but told with a fresh-faced innocence bound to win the author fans on her first time out.