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White Is for Witching
“ Miranda is at home — homesick, home sick ...”
As a child, Miranda Silver developed pica, a rare eating disorder that causes its victims to consume nonedible substances. The death of her mother when Miranda is sixteen exacerbates her condition; nothing, however, satisfies a strange hunger passed down through the women in her family. And then there’s the family house in Dover, England, converted to a bed-and-breakfast by Miranda’s father. Dover has long been known for its hostility toward outsiders. But the Silver House manifests a more conscious malice toward strangers, dispatching those visitors it despises. Enraged by the constant stream of foreign staff and guests, the house finally unleashes its most destructive power.
With distinct originality and grace, and an extraordinary gift for making the fantastic believable, Helen Oyeyemi spins the politics of family and nation into a riveting and unforgettable mystery.
As a child, Miranda Silver developed pica, a rare eating disorder that causes its victims to consume nonedible substances. The death of her mother when Miranda is sixteen exacerbates her condition; nothing, however, satisfies a strange hunger passed down through the women in her family. And then there’s the family house in Dover, England, converted to a bed-and-breakfast by Miranda’s father. Dover has long been known for its hostility toward outsiders. But the Silver House manifests a more conscious malice toward strangers, dispatching those visitors it despises. Enraged by the constant stream of foreign staff and guests, the house finally unleashes its most destructive power.
With distinct originality and grace, and an extraordinary gift for making the fantastic believable, Helen Oyeyemi spins the politics of family and nation into a riveting and unforgettable mystery.
230 pages, Hardcover
First published June 23, 2009
About the author
Helen Oyeyemi
34 books5,187 followersHelen Oyeyemi is a British novelist. She lives in Prague, and has written eleven books so far, none of which involve ‘magical realism’. Can’t fiction sometimes get extra fictional without being called such names…?
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,984 reviews
April 16, 2020
i read this. i'm not sure how to review it. like the other things i have read by her, she shows a great flair for foreboding and atmosphere but the end is a void. i'm not sure what this book is. it's not a traditional story, it's kind of fairy-tale-like, but even that... there are characters who are involved heavily, and then they are absent from the narrative, never to return. i guess in that way, it is like the real-life situation of never knowing when the last time you will see someone will be. but in a novel, i have certain expectations of structure and novel-sense which are not being satisfied here. there is much in this novel that is dreamlike and dream-logic, and that is very enjoyable, but if you are looking for a plot-driven book with closure and all the good traditional stuff, i would tell you you don't want this one. but i liked it more than i seem to have here.
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October 13, 2011
This is the first book I'd read by Helen Oyeyemi, and I instantly had to purchase everything else. Girl has a way with words, a way with weird, and a way with witching. It kills me, full on kills me that she is writing like this and she's only, dear god, 26 years old. (And moan, I think she wrote this one when she was 23.) I'd possibly die of jealousy, except that she's completely amazing, and you know what? It's in the world's interest to have writers this good working in it. I think Oyeyemi is going to win gigantic prizes. Right now, she's doing work that writers twice her age only wish they could do. Her voice is utterly unique, and though there are slight hitches in her work, the hitches are so slight, and the work so mindblowing, that any troubles in her books are completely forgivable. Problems of bounty, as I've said in a previous review - that of Chris Adrian's The Great Night, are much less troubling to me than are problems of starkness.
The basic outlines of the story involve Miranda Silver and her fraternal twin Eliot, whose closely merged lives are, in the wake of both tragedy, and also simply because of growing up, beginning to diverge. Miranda has pica - in her case, a hunger for chalk, and plastic - and has melted down emotionally following the death of the twin's mother, Lily. Eliot is hungry for something else, the hunger of many who've come from such close quarters. He's hungry for the world, hungry to get away from his childhood, and from the house he grew up in. The house has its own agenda when it comes to Miranda. It has no intention of letting her go.
White is For Witching reads like a contemporary London hybrid of Shirley Jackson's fantastically creepy too-close-too-ruined sister story We Have Always Lived in the Castle and, oh, what? Charlotte Perkins Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper and Herland? Maybe throw in a little Lorca, a little House Of Bernarda Alba. There are four generations of women in this book, and none of them end well. There's also this house, which has its own opinions and goals, and its own voice. Sometimes the book is narrated by the house. Need I say that the house is bloody scary?
It's a victory of storytelling. Oyeyemi balances multiple POV's very tidily - those of Eliot, Miranda, Miranda's lover Ore, and of the house itself. It's also a heartbreaker. Miranda transforms over the course of the novel, unwillingly, from a fairy tale heroine to a monster, to at last, Snow White, but a Snow White whose prince will never come. Oyeyemi doesn't pull punches here. Her ending isn't a relief, but a collapsing certainty. You know that things will not end well from the first pages of the book. It's no spoiler to say so. The keen pleasure here is in the infinitely imaginative way that Oyeyemi controls her narrative, like an elevator operator holding the pulleys in her hands, easing them down, down, and then with a lurch, letting go. Down into the darkness we tumble.
The basic outlines of the story involve Miranda Silver and her fraternal twin Eliot, whose closely merged lives are, in the wake of both tragedy, and also simply because of growing up, beginning to diverge. Miranda has pica - in her case, a hunger for chalk, and plastic - and has melted down emotionally following the death of the twin's mother, Lily. Eliot is hungry for something else, the hunger of many who've come from such close quarters. He's hungry for the world, hungry to get away from his childhood, and from the house he grew up in. The house has its own agenda when it comes to Miranda. It has no intention of letting her go.
White is For Witching reads like a contemporary London hybrid of Shirley Jackson's fantastically creepy too-close-too-ruined sister story We Have Always Lived in the Castle and, oh, what? Charlotte Perkins Gilman's The Yellow Wallpaper and Herland? Maybe throw in a little Lorca, a little House Of Bernarda Alba. There are four generations of women in this book, and none of them end well. There's also this house, which has its own opinions and goals, and its own voice. Sometimes the book is narrated by the house. Need I say that the house is bloody scary?
It's a victory of storytelling. Oyeyemi balances multiple POV's very tidily - those of Eliot, Miranda, Miranda's lover Ore, and of the house itself. It's also a heartbreaker. Miranda transforms over the course of the novel, unwillingly, from a fairy tale heroine to a monster, to at last, Snow White, but a Snow White whose prince will never come. Oyeyemi doesn't pull punches here. Her ending isn't a relief, but a collapsing certainty. You know that things will not end well from the first pages of the book. It's no spoiler to say so. The keen pleasure here is in the infinitely imaginative way that Oyeyemi controls her narrative, like an elevator operator holding the pulleys in her hands, easing them down, down, and then with a lurch, letting go. Down into the darkness we tumble.
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June 21, 2023
A lyrical book about a house that keeps its women captive. Miri has pica: the name for an urge to eat things that aren't food. Throughout the book we follow her downward spiral, through deep illness to attempted revelry at university, alongside her twin brother and widow father.
It's an interesting book. At first, the stilted chapters and flow of chapters had me a little hooked, but by the end they become boring and a little tedious to work out whom is narrating each little bit. Perhaps the who doesn't matter a huge amount, but even so it jolts you out of reading and it takes a while to sink back in.
Another problem I found was the severe lack of plot. I suppose a book like this doesn't need one-or this book didn't want one-but I need a good plot to enjoy a book and sadly this one only hinted at things.
That was my main issue. The hinting. Was there incest going on? Was everyone racist? Did she murder the refugees? Hint hint hint. Maybe, maybe not. It infuriated me at the end whereas at the beginning it was like a little game. Hinting at these wild things, these secret things, these possibilities. Books need to ask questions and then answer them at the end. This didn't answer anything and that is infuriating.
The writing is nice and gives me hope that maybe others will be better than this. I get the book as a whole, but I get a lot of things I don't agree with or like, so it leaves a slightly metallic taste in my mouth.
It's an interesting book. At first, the stilted chapters and flow of chapters had me a little hooked, but by the end they become boring and a little tedious to work out whom is narrating each little bit. Perhaps the who doesn't matter a huge amount, but even so it jolts you out of reading and it takes a while to sink back in.
Another problem I found was the severe lack of plot. I suppose a book like this doesn't need one-or this book didn't want one-but I need a good plot to enjoy a book and sadly this one only hinted at things.
That was my main issue. The hinting. Was there incest going on? Was everyone racist? Did she murder the refugees? Hint hint hint. Maybe, maybe not. It infuriated me at the end whereas at the beginning it was like a little game. Hinting at these wild things, these secret things, these possibilities. Books need to ask questions and then answer them at the end. This didn't answer anything and that is infuriating.
The writing is nice and gives me hope that maybe others will be better than this. I get the book as a whole, but I get a lot of things I don't agree with or like, so it leaves a slightly metallic taste in my mouth.
August 2, 2017
Rating: 2* of five
The Publisher Says: As a child, Miranda Silver developed pica, a rare eating disorder that causes its victims to consume nonedible substances. The death of her mother when Miranda is sixteen exacerbates her condition; nothing, however, satisfies a strange hunger passed down through the women in her family. And then there’s the family house in Dover, England, converted to a bed-and-breakfast by Miranda’s father. Dover has long been known for its hostility toward outsiders. But the Silver House manifests a more conscious malice toward strangers, dispatching those visitors it despises. Enraged by the constant stream of foreign staff and guests, the house finally unleashes its most destructive power.
With distinct originality and grace, and an extraordinary gift for making the fantastic believable, Helen Oyeyemi spins the politics of family and nation into a riveting and unforgettable mystery.
My Review: Teenaged girl from a long line of off-kilter female ancestors loses her mother after developing a rare eating disorder. Clueless males make things worse. Her house is haunted. Blah blah blah.
I cannot believe I wasted eyeblinks on this boring, vapid girl. Her mother couldn't stand her to the point of being gone most of the time, and I say go mom. Dad's a selfish, clueless cretin.
In short, nothing new, except the little dullard has an affliction called “pica,” which makes her eat non-biological non-foodstuffs. Oh goody good good, another girl with an eating disorder that makes her Different from others, isolated, misunderstood! How refreshing! Such a bold storytelling choice. Why, NO ONE does that! Oh, and then there's the aforementioned clueless maleness. My sweet saints, why has no woman thought to use *that* in her books before?
Two stars for introducing me to pica. Apart from that, I'd've settled on 1/2-star and a much longer, more vituperative attack on the pointless, me-too, competently written snore-inducingly dull book.
The Publisher Says: As a child, Miranda Silver developed pica, a rare eating disorder that causes its victims to consume nonedible substances. The death of her mother when Miranda is sixteen exacerbates her condition; nothing, however, satisfies a strange hunger passed down through the women in her family. And then there’s the family house in Dover, England, converted to a bed-and-breakfast by Miranda’s father. Dover has long been known for its hostility toward outsiders. But the Silver House manifests a more conscious malice toward strangers, dispatching those visitors it despises. Enraged by the constant stream of foreign staff and guests, the house finally unleashes its most destructive power.
With distinct originality and grace, and an extraordinary gift for making the fantastic believable, Helen Oyeyemi spins the politics of family and nation into a riveting and unforgettable mystery.
My Review: Teenaged girl from a long line of off-kilter female ancestors loses her mother after developing a rare eating disorder. Clueless males make things worse. Her house is haunted. Blah blah blah.
I cannot believe I wasted eyeblinks on this boring, vapid girl. Her mother couldn't stand her to the point of being gone most of the time, and I say go mom. Dad's a selfish, clueless cretin.
In short, nothing new, except the little dullard has an affliction called “pica,” which makes her eat non-biological non-foodstuffs. Oh goody good good, another girl with an eating disorder that makes her Different from others, isolated, misunderstood! How refreshing! Such a bold storytelling choice. Why, NO ONE does that! Oh, and then there's the aforementioned clueless maleness. My sweet saints, why has no woman thought to use *that* in her books before?
Two stars for introducing me to pica. Apart from that, I'd've settled on 1/2-star and a much longer, more vituperative attack on the pointless, me-too, competently written snore-inducingly dull book.
December 20, 2018
Okay, I finished this. It was only 200 pages or so. I read another one by her that I liked a bit better. Both books have lovely cover art and great titles, the other book was Boy, Snow, Bird. This one has a creepy house which is given a voice in the narrative which I really liked. Basically it is about a haunted house which likes to keep its female owners around itself even after death and encouraged said women to hasten their deaths. Narrative structure and clarity is not to be found here although she does create poetry with her words.
February 10, 2017
“I am here, reading with you. I am reading this over your shoulder. I make your home home, I’m the Braille on your wallpaper that only your fingers can read–I tell you where you are. Don’t turn to look at me. I am only tangible when you don’t look.”- The house in Helen Oyeyemi’s “White is For Witching”
Although I bought an Oyeyemi book a few years ago, this is actually the first book of hers that I’ve read. I really enjoyed it although reading the review from the Toronto Star that referred to Oyeyemi as a “kin of Morrison” really rubbed me the wrong way as very lazy and misleading because Oyeyemi’s writing is really not like Morrison’s at all and it’s clear to me that she’s carved her own niche and did so well.
This was a great story, one which I admittedly found it hard to follow at first. However, it’s a story I was rewarded for not giving up on. There is a very unusual stricture wherein a new character starts speaking IN THE MIDDLE OF A SENTENCE! I personally found this brilliant after I got over my initial confusion. Once I got used to that quirk and realized that more like it were coming, it was a fun read. It’s essentially a neo-gothic storyline featuring a demented house which is one of the characters in the book, a pair of strange twins, the spirit of a deceased mother, and a Nigerian housekeeper who watches Nollywood movies. It has some contemporary storylines that focus on refugees and immigration detention centres in England:
"You come without papers because you have been unable to prove that you are useful to anyone, and then when you arrive they put you in prison, and if you are unable to prove that you have suffered, they send you home."
I’m really looking forward to reading more from Oyeyemi, i don’t think I’ve ever come across a writer like her, and as young as she is it will be great to see how her craft develops. Definitely recommended.
Although I bought an Oyeyemi book a few years ago, this is actually the first book of hers that I’ve read. I really enjoyed it although reading the review from the Toronto Star that referred to Oyeyemi as a “kin of Morrison” really rubbed me the wrong way as very lazy and misleading because Oyeyemi’s writing is really not like Morrison’s at all and it’s clear to me that she’s carved her own niche and did so well.
This was a great story, one which I admittedly found it hard to follow at first. However, it’s a story I was rewarded for not giving up on. There is a very unusual stricture wherein a new character starts speaking IN THE MIDDLE OF A SENTENCE! I personally found this brilliant after I got over my initial confusion. Once I got used to that quirk and realized that more like it were coming, it was a fun read. It’s essentially a neo-gothic storyline featuring a demented house which is one of the characters in the book, a pair of strange twins, the spirit of a deceased mother, and a Nigerian housekeeper who watches Nollywood movies. It has some contemporary storylines that focus on refugees and immigration detention centres in England:
"You come without papers because you have been unable to prove that you are useful to anyone, and then when you arrive they put you in prison, and if you are unable to prove that you have suffered, they send you home."
I’m really looking forward to reading more from Oyeyemi, i don’t think I’ve ever come across a writer like her, and as young as she is it will be great to see how her craft develops. Definitely recommended.
July 14, 2023
I’d been thinking of reading Oyeyemi for a while now, though I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get around to her. I’m glad I did. Her writing ticks off certain boxes for me, or maybe just one specific box: great prose with storytelling that combines fairytale tropes with an almost-Shirley Jackson feel.
The Silver family’s matriarchal house in Dover is one of the first-person narrators. I didn’t think of it while reading, but its relationship to Miranda is reminiscent of the antagonistic, destiny-laden relationship of the evil patriarchal house to Eleanor in The Haunting of Hill House: Both houses are spaces of oppression. While reading, I did think of the host-hostage theory from the essay by Rebecca Million in Shirley Jackson, though here it’s not of the mother-role, but concerning Luc, the father of Miranda and her twin brother Eliot. The Cambridge section of the novel should’ve reminded me of Hangsaman, but only did after the fact. Instead, while reading it, I thought of Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Gate of Angels.
Eliot is another first-person narrator, and his reliability and the house’s are both called into question at least once when one of them has to be lying. Luc—not a Silver (and French)—operates a bed-and-breakfast in the ancestral house his wife Lily inherited. The house doesn’t seem to want Luc there. It certainly doesn’t want the guests and employees who are not English and not white to stay there.
As for the fairytales, there’s no specific story I was reminded of, though Hansel and Gretel are mentioned once in reference to the twins. They’re finished with the local school and it’s time for them to leave the family home—or not. There are all-season apples (shades of Snow White). There’s an entity Miranda calls the goodlady; her friend Ore, of Nigerian descent, sees it as a soucouyant.
I have theories about the questions I was left with, especially regarding Lily and the power the house had over her, despite her being different from her mother and grandmother. Lily is not a focus of the book, but is a focus of the twins, especially Miranda, who has inherited her mother’s eating disorder: What else has Miranda inherited that she has no power over?
The Silver family’s matriarchal house in Dover is one of the first-person narrators. I didn’t think of it while reading, but its relationship to Miranda is reminiscent of the antagonistic, destiny-laden relationship of the evil patriarchal house to Eleanor in The Haunting of Hill House: Both houses are spaces of oppression. While reading, I did think of the host-hostage theory from the essay by Rebecca Million in Shirley Jackson, though here it’s not of the mother-role, but concerning Luc, the father of Miranda and her twin brother Eliot. The Cambridge section of the novel should’ve reminded me of Hangsaman, but only did after the fact. Instead, while reading it, I thought of Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Gate of Angels.
Eliot is another first-person narrator, and his reliability and the house’s are both called into question at least once when one of them has to be lying. Luc—not a Silver (and French)—operates a bed-and-breakfast in the ancestral house his wife Lily inherited. The house doesn’t seem to want Luc there. It certainly doesn’t want the guests and employees who are not English and not white to stay there.
As for the fairytales, there’s no specific story I was reminded of, though Hansel and Gretel are mentioned once in reference to the twins. They’re finished with the local school and it’s time for them to leave the family home—or not. There are all-season apples (shades of Snow White). There’s an entity Miranda calls the goodlady; her friend Ore, of Nigerian descent, sees it as a soucouyant.
I have theories about the questions I was left with, especially regarding Lily and the power the house had over her, despite her being different from her mother and grandmother. Lily is not a focus of the book, but is a focus of the twins, especially Miranda, who has inherited her mother’s eating disorder: What else has Miranda inherited that she has no power over?
January 13, 2010
Sometimes when I'm reading a book, it's so out there that it makes me feel stupid. I think, "I bet a city woman on a subway would understand this thing." Or at least fake it. I can see this book being the subject of coffee table chatter at cocktail hour or at a ivy league campus book club, but not anywhere close to Paris, Illinois. Why? Because it's darn confusing. There are three narrators--Minerva, a yougn lady who suffers from pica (eating stuff like clay and chalk), Ore, a girlfriend Minerva meets in college, and the house. Yep, that's right, one of the narrators is a house. And it's a creepy house. All the women in Minerva's family have been crazy to some extent, so Minerva was bound to suffer from something. She gets away from the house during college, but still is sick and doesn't recover from the pica that institutionalized her during high school. Add in Minerva's twin brother who thinks Ore is beautiful, but Ore is in love with Minerva.
Okay, so the plot isn't that bad. But the switching of narration drove me nuts. There is no indication when it happens, other than things don't make sense. I kept thinking, "What is going on?" and "Why am I reading this?" I kept hoping the book would read easier, but it never happened for me. I strongly disliked this book, except for the cover. It looks reader-friendly, but the mystery of the book was destroyed with the way the mystery was told. I didn't find the house mysterious, just annoying.
Okay, so the plot isn't that bad. But the switching of narration drove me nuts. There is no indication when it happens, other than things don't make sense. I kept thinking, "What is going on?" and "Why am I reading this?" I kept hoping the book would read easier, but it never happened for me. I strongly disliked this book, except for the cover. It looks reader-friendly, but the mystery of the book was destroyed with the way the mystery was told. I didn't find the house mysterious, just annoying.
December 3, 2019
Strange and unusual with a malevolent house as a narrator. I have to admit I had a hard time finding my footing with this one and I never truly understood what was happening which made me happy to put it down and a struggle to pick it back up. It took me over a week to finish this very short book.
At least it was a library book. 2 stars!
At least it was a library book. 2 stars!
July 1, 2017
I was very close to putting this book down as I wasn't getting on with it at all, but I stuck with it and soon found myself falling head over heels!
This one follows the Silver family who run a bed and breakfast in Dover - Luc and the twins, Miranda and Eliot. You soon learn that Lily (the wife and mother) has passed away. Not only has this caused strife within the family, the house appears to be reacting as well. We soon learn that generations of the Silver family women are living within the walls of the B&B. Miranda is able to hear these spirits and we slowly see the effect they are having on her mental health. As the novel moves we unfold the secrets of this house, when Miranda goes missing - where will they find her?
This one left me feeling unsettled and I thought it was brilliant - once I got used to the writing style I found myself completely gripped. I would highly recommend this one for a dark winter's night!
This one follows the Silver family who run a bed and breakfast in Dover - Luc and the twins, Miranda and Eliot. You soon learn that Lily (the wife and mother) has passed away. Not only has this caused strife within the family, the house appears to be reacting as well. We soon learn that generations of the Silver family women are living within the walls of the B&B. Miranda is able to hear these spirits and we slowly see the effect they are having on her mental health. As the novel moves we unfold the secrets of this house, when Miranda goes missing - where will they find her?
This one left me feeling unsettled and I thought it was brilliant - once I got used to the writing style I found myself completely gripped. I would highly recommend this one for a dark winter's night!
February 25, 2017
White is for Witching is a strange but rather beautiful book. It's a story about lots of things - the fragility of family relationships, the bond between twins, sexuality, racial prejudice - but at the same time it isn't really about any of these. The unfinished themes are held together by Oyeyemi's prose, which is fluid, lyrical and reads almost like poetry at some points. The narrative is unconventional and initially hard to follow, as it switches between different viewpoints without explaining which is which (oh, and one of the narrators is a house...) although I got used to this quite quickly.
The thing I found most frustrating about the story is that it's impossible to tell what is real and what is not when it comes to the supernatural element regarding the Silver family's house. It's made clear that there is a strong history of mental illness in the Silver women, but what actually ends up happening to them is a mystery. Is the house really haunted by Miranda's great-grandmother, or are the apparent manifestations of this a product of Miranda's damaged imagination? The fact that Ore, in her own narrative, appears to experience some of the house's power would suggest there really is some kind of evil presence, but some scenes segue into things that can't possibly be happening - if the house/Anna narrative is true, Sade should be dead, but she later reappears more or less alive and well. Are all the narrators unreliable, including the third-person one? It's a fascinating, but mind-boggling question. Personally, I don't think this is a supernatural tale as much as it is a story about actual madness and the madness of relationships and love. Something that slightly annoyed me was that Miranda's character is such a cliché - a mentally disturbed young woman, described as looking so wasted and ill as to be on the verge of death, yet everyone somehow finds her beautiful and falls in love with her... Ultimately, the truth about Miranda's fate (murdered because of her connection with the Kosovan refugees? 'Taken' by the house? Committed suicide?) remains a mystery.
Fittingly, this is a bewitching tale and a great winter read. Dover and Cambridge are brought to life effortlessly and everything flows so well that you believe in all of it. There are numerous plot holes and unfinished strands, but the prose is so spellbinding that you don't notice this until after you finish reading and start thinking back over everything that's happened - and there is a LOT to think about; it would be fascinating to study and analyse, and would be a perfect book club choice as it can be interpreted in so many different ways and I imagine this would make for some great discussions. A beautifully written book, but beware - you may find it frustrating.
The thing I found most frustrating about the story is that it's impossible to tell what is real and what is not when it comes to the supernatural element regarding the Silver family's house. It's made clear that there is a strong history of mental illness in the Silver women, but what actually ends up happening to them is a mystery. Is the house really haunted by Miranda's great-grandmother, or are the apparent manifestations of this a product of Miranda's damaged imagination? The fact that Ore, in her own narrative, appears to experience some of the house's power would suggest there really is some kind of evil presence, but some scenes segue into things that can't possibly be happening - if the house/Anna narrative is true, Sade should be dead, but she later reappears more or less alive and well. Are all the narrators unreliable, including the third-person one? It's a fascinating, but mind-boggling question. Personally, I don't think this is a supernatural tale as much as it is a story about actual madness and the madness of relationships and love. Something that slightly annoyed me was that Miranda's character is such a cliché - a mentally disturbed young woman, described as looking so wasted and ill as to be on the verge of death, yet everyone somehow finds her beautiful and falls in love with her... Ultimately, the truth about Miranda's fate (murdered because of her connection with the Kosovan refugees? 'Taken' by the house? Committed suicide?) remains a mystery.
Fittingly, this is a bewitching tale and a great winter read. Dover and Cambridge are brought to life effortlessly and everything flows so well that you believe in all of it. There are numerous plot holes and unfinished strands, but the prose is so spellbinding that you don't notice this until after you finish reading and start thinking back over everything that's happened - and there is a LOT to think about; it would be fascinating to study and analyse, and would be a perfect book club choice as it can be interpreted in so many different ways and I imagine this would make for some great discussions. A beautifully written book, but beware - you may find it frustrating.
March 11, 2017
OH THANK GOD ITS FINALLY OVER
First of all, THIS BOOK FRUSTRATED THE CRAP OUT OF ME. It felt like it was trying SO hard to be eerie and suspenseful when in reality it was just straight up confusing. I can't immerse myself in your story if I have ZERO idea what's going on in it. Please don't hurl random occurrences at my face and expect me to feel creeped out; that is not how you create ambiance, creepy or otherwise.
Character-wise, this book was also a complete disaster. Miranda is (supposed to be) your prototypical Quirky girl: she wears super high heels all the time, is always in black, and always wears vibrant red lipstick. (wow, high heels, lipstick, and black clothes. SUPER QUIRKY. -_-) That not Quirky enough for you? Well, fret not dear reader because Miranda also has an eating disorder, Pica, to make her Extra Quirky! Sarcasm aside though, the eating disorder, considering how serious it is, is never really fully addressed, nor are its consequences. Oyeyemi is just like oh, Miranda went to a psychiatric facility for a while for her Pica but now she's back, and even though Miranda's disordered eating continues throughout the book (on top of the fact that her brother continues to enable her), absolutely nothing substantial is said about it or its potential treatment. You can't just capriciously give a character an eating disorder to make them seem interesting and then largely ignore it throughout the rest of the narrative. If you're going to give a character an eating disorder—or any kind of disorder for that matter—then you better make sure you're up to the task of fully and properly representing it.
As for the other characters, they were bland at best and interchangeable at worst. Ore is just kinda there to contrast Miranda's strangeness; Eliot has zero personality apart from the fact that he occasionally says "fuck" and smokes weed (after all, that's what all teenage boys do: say "fuck" and smoke weed!!! That's totally how you write interesting, three-dimensional characters!!!); and Luc, Miranda and Eliot's dad, could've been replaced with a piece of paper for all I cared because that's how flat he was as a character. (Brief tangent: somebody give Luc an award for being the SHITTIEST PARENT OUT THERE because he was so freaking useless in this book. He was never present, and when he was, he was cooking his dumb pastries and avoiding any and all problems.)
To put it lightly, White is for Witching felt less like an atmospheric read to me and more like a phony one. To put it bluntly, EVERYTHING WAS HELLA CONFUSING AND FRUSTRATING AND THINKING ABOUT THIS BOOK ANGERS ME SO I'M GONNA STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW
Yeah...I didn't enjoy this very much—at all, really.
First of all, THIS BOOK FRUSTRATED THE CRAP OUT OF ME. It felt like it was trying SO hard to be eerie and suspenseful when in reality it was just straight up confusing. I can't immerse myself in your story if I have ZERO idea what's going on in it. Please don't hurl random occurrences at my face and expect me to feel creeped out; that is not how you create ambiance, creepy or otherwise.
Character-wise, this book was also a complete disaster. Miranda is (supposed to be) your prototypical Quirky girl: she wears super high heels all the time, is always in black, and always wears vibrant red lipstick. (wow, high heels, lipstick, and black clothes. SUPER QUIRKY. -_-) That not Quirky enough for you? Well, fret not dear reader because Miranda also has an eating disorder, Pica, to make her Extra Quirky! Sarcasm aside though, the eating disorder, considering how serious it is, is never really fully addressed, nor are its consequences. Oyeyemi is just like oh, Miranda went to a psychiatric facility for a while for her Pica but now she's back, and even though Miranda's disordered eating continues throughout the book (on top of the fact that her brother continues to enable her), absolutely nothing substantial is said about it or its potential treatment. You can't just capriciously give a character an eating disorder to make them seem interesting and then largely ignore it throughout the rest of the narrative. If you're going to give a character an eating disorder—or any kind of disorder for that matter—then you better make sure you're up to the task of fully and properly representing it.
As for the other characters, they were bland at best and interchangeable at worst. Ore is just kinda there to contrast Miranda's strangeness; Eliot has zero personality apart from the fact that he occasionally says "fuck" and smokes weed (after all, that's what all teenage boys do: say "fuck" and smoke weed!!! That's totally how you write interesting, three-dimensional characters!!!); and Luc, Miranda and Eliot's dad, could've been replaced with a piece of paper for all I cared because that's how flat he was as a character. (Brief tangent: somebody give Luc an award for being the SHITTIEST PARENT OUT THERE because he was so freaking useless in this book. He was never present, and when he was, he was cooking his dumb pastries and avoiding any and all problems.)
To put it lightly, White is for Witching felt less like an atmospheric read to me and more like a phony one. To put it bluntly, EVERYTHING WAS HELLA CONFUSING AND FRUSTRATING AND THINKING ABOUT THIS BOOK ANGERS ME SO I'M GONNA STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW
Yeah...I didn't enjoy this very much—at all, really.
April 28, 2020
“ Please tell a story about a girl who gets away.”
So... I’m not too sure how to rate this book...
I can’t say I enjoyed it but to say it was a bad book would be equally as big a lie. This is probably not going to be a coherent review, but more “thoughts on paper”, so feel free to skip this one if you’re looking for a proper review.
This was confusing, yet somehow entrancing, strange, yet somehow familiar and had little plot as far as I could descern. That all pales in comparison to my dominant feeling about this novel:
White is for Witching freaked me right the hell out... To the point where I struggled a little to even finish it.’
What begins as the story of a haunted house, soon develops into the story of a haunted girl. A girl obsessed with grief, obsessed with her own body and its flaws, and wanting that body to become a ghost itself…
Protagonist Miranda suffers from Pica, a rare eating disorder that leads to an uncontrolable compulsion to eat unedible objects, often combined with an aversion to eating actual food. I’m not personally familiar with this disorder: I’ve only seen it once in my years as a medical student and that alone was quite an impactful experience. I am however, from my personal enviroment, more familiar with other forms of eating disorders, and have to commend Helen Oyeyemi for the way she described this experience, which is part of why this freaked me out so much.
Although I want to give credits to Oyeyemi for describing such an unconventional disorder in a way that still managed to strike a personal note with me, I also suspect that there may have been other motives at play. At times it felt to me like the author used picked this specific disorder for its creep-factor, with the purpose to make the reader uncomfortable. This in turn made me uncomfortable, as I don’t agree with the use of real mental illnesses to this effect.
The subject matter isn’t the only unconventional aspect of White is for Witching: the style and layout themselves are often a bit “off” as well, only exaggeraing that feeling of unease in the reader. Personally, I don’t quite like when authors do this: I like my layouts plain and “readable”, but in this case I think it did match the story quite well.
If you like the type of “stream of consciousness” novels, that don’t necessarily have a coherent plot, if you want an experience more than a story, or if you desperately want a modern novel in the vain of Shirley Jackson: this might be for you.
If you think this all sounds a little to abstract and vague: skip it, for sure.
If you or someone close to you currently struggles with an eating disorder, perhaps also give this one a pass. Again; even though this disease doesn’t affect me personally, the description of mental-illness and eating disorders in this novel freaked me out a bit.
This was my first experience with Oyeyemi’s writingstyle, and I can’t quite decide if I’m more put-off, or intrigued, or equal parts of both. I’m at the very least curious to see how her style will fit in her other novels. I’m still very interested in Gingerbread and Boy, Snow, Bird and plan on picking them up in the near future. Perhaps that will help me make a little more sense of my thoughts on this novel as well.
In the mean-time: feel free to let me know your thoughts. I’m curious to hear what others thought of this.
So... I’m not too sure how to rate this book...
I can’t say I enjoyed it but to say it was a bad book would be equally as big a lie. This is probably not going to be a coherent review, but more “thoughts on paper”, so feel free to skip this one if you’re looking for a proper review.
This was confusing, yet somehow entrancing, strange, yet somehow familiar and had little plot as far as I could descern. That all pales in comparison to my dominant feeling about this novel:
White is for Witching freaked me right the hell out... To the point where I struggled a little to even finish it.’
What begins as the story of a haunted house, soon develops into the story of a haunted girl. A girl obsessed with grief, obsessed with her own body and its flaws, and wanting that body to become a ghost itself…
Protagonist Miranda suffers from Pica, a rare eating disorder that leads to an uncontrolable compulsion to eat unedible objects, often combined with an aversion to eating actual food. I’m not personally familiar with this disorder: I’ve only seen it once in my years as a medical student and that alone was quite an impactful experience. I am however, from my personal enviroment, more familiar with other forms of eating disorders, and have to commend Helen Oyeyemi for the way she described this experience, which is part of why this freaked me out so much.
Although I want to give credits to Oyeyemi for describing such an unconventional disorder in a way that still managed to strike a personal note with me, I also suspect that there may have been other motives at play. At times it felt to me like the author used picked this specific disorder for its creep-factor, with the purpose to make the reader uncomfortable. This in turn made me uncomfortable, as I don’t agree with the use of real mental illnesses to this effect.
The subject matter isn’t the only unconventional aspect of White is for Witching: the style and layout themselves are often a bit “off” as well, only exaggeraing that feeling of unease in the reader. Personally, I don’t quite like when authors do this: I like my layouts plain and “readable”, but in this case I think it did match the story quite well.
If you like the type of “stream of consciousness” novels, that don’t necessarily have a coherent plot, if you want an experience more than a story, or if you desperately want a modern novel in the vain of Shirley Jackson: this might be for you.
If you think this all sounds a little to abstract and vague: skip it, for sure.
If you or someone close to you currently struggles with an eating disorder, perhaps also give this one a pass. Again; even though this disease doesn’t affect me personally, the description of mental-illness and eating disorders in this novel freaked me out a bit.
This was my first experience with Oyeyemi’s writingstyle, and I can’t quite decide if I’m more put-off, or intrigued, or equal parts of both. I’m at the very least curious to see how her style will fit in her other novels. I’m still very interested in Gingerbread and Boy, Snow, Bird and plan on picking them up in the near future. Perhaps that will help me make a little more sense of my thoughts on this novel as well.
In the mean-time: feel free to let me know your thoughts. I’m curious to hear what others thought of this.
August 15, 2021
This book just absolutely blew me away! It is fabulously dark and sinister and at certain points I could feel the hair on my arms rising and it was the most delicious feeling. The story starts off seemingly innocent and almost like a fairytale but the descent into darkness and horror happens quickly and it swept me right off my feet. I was anxiously turning the pages, my mouth in a permanent “O” as I was reading, simultaneously fascinated and horrified. I wasn’t expecting to fall madly in love with this book but I sure as hell did and I enjoyed every second of the descent into madness!
March 22, 2019
In White is for Witching the classic Gothic story of a haunted house is given new life, but keeps being just as unsettling and dark as the older ones.
Despite what the title suggests, this book doesn’t contain any witches. It’s the eerie and intriguing tale of a young teenage girl named Miranda ‘Miri’ Silver who moves with her twin brother Elliot and her father into a new house after the death of her mother. That old house in Dover has been in the Silver family for generations, and while her brother and father try to move on with their lives, Miri slowly falls prey to the dark influence of the house.
In this book the writer Helen Oyeyemi has mixed the classic Gothic elements with myths and ideas from her own Nigerian background. This gives the book a unique character and combined with the author’s mysterious writing style, makes this a ghost story that will make your hair stand on end.
The author has a good understanding of “show, don’t tell” and since the story is told from different points of view, by not entirely reliable narrators, you don’t know who to trust or what to believe. Are the spirits of the Silver house really possessing Miri, or is it all a hallucination caused by her mental illness?
So the story is strange and pretty frightening at times, but although Oyeyemi does a great job on describing the shadowy house, the book doesn’t have much of a plot. Besides Miri, very few people become aware that the house is haunted or try to do something about it.
Miri is also a stereotypical ‘ghost-girl’ with pale skin, dark hair and because she suffers from an eating disorder called Pica, she’s very thin and unhealthy looking. She fortunately gets some character development in the second part of the book, but sadly her brother and father remain very flat. Which is a shame, since family (bonds) are such an important theme in this book.
Another thing what bothered me was Miri’s Pica. From what I looked up Pica is a pretty dangerous eating/mental disorder, but nobody seems to treat it seriously in the novel. Elliot and Miri’s father don’t pay close attention to what she eats and only throw away chalk when they find it, as if Pica isn’t something that can kill a person. This leads me to conclude that Oyeyemi played Miri’s Pica for creepiness only…which doesn’t sit quite right with me.
So while the characters are thin (especially Miri) and the storyline isn’t very thrilling, you should read this book alone for Oyeyemi’s tale of the haunted Silver house. Thanks to the author’s cryptic prose the story will get under your skin, just the ghost do to Miri, and keep you reading to find out how it ends.
White is for Witching is like a dark fairy-tale, a bewildering nightmare, and a novel that made me very interested in reading more from Helen Oyeyemi.
3,5 stars and a great book to read this October! #Halloween
Despite what the title suggests, this book doesn’t contain any witches. It’s the eerie and intriguing tale of a young teenage girl named Miranda ‘Miri’ Silver who moves with her twin brother Elliot and her father into a new house after the death of her mother. That old house in Dover has been in the Silver family for generations, and while her brother and father try to move on with their lives, Miri slowly falls prey to the dark influence of the house.
In this book the writer Helen Oyeyemi has mixed the classic Gothic elements with myths and ideas from her own Nigerian background. This gives the book a unique character and combined with the author’s mysterious writing style, makes this a ghost story that will make your hair stand on end.
The author has a good understanding of “show, don’t tell” and since the story is told from different points of view, by not entirely reliable narrators, you don’t know who to trust or what to believe. Are the spirits of the Silver house really possessing Miri, or is it all a hallucination caused by her mental illness?
So the story is strange and pretty frightening at times, but although Oyeyemi does a great job on describing the shadowy house, the book doesn’t have much of a plot. Besides Miri, very few people become aware that the house is haunted or try to do something about it.
Miri is also a stereotypical ‘ghost-girl’ with pale skin, dark hair and because she suffers from an eating disorder called Pica, she’s very thin and unhealthy looking. She fortunately gets some character development in the second part of the book, but sadly her brother and father remain very flat. Which is a shame, since family (bonds) are such an important theme in this book.
Another thing what bothered me was Miri’s Pica. From what I looked up Pica is a pretty dangerous eating/mental disorder, but nobody seems to treat it seriously in the novel. Elliot and Miri’s father don’t pay close attention to what she eats and only throw away chalk when they find it, as if Pica isn’t something that can kill a person. This leads me to conclude that Oyeyemi played Miri’s Pica for creepiness only…which doesn’t sit quite right with me.
So while the characters are thin (especially Miri) and the storyline isn’t very thrilling, you should read this book alone for Oyeyemi’s tale of the haunted Silver house. Thanks to the author’s cryptic prose the story will get under your skin, just the ghost do to Miri, and keep you reading to find out how it ends.
White is for Witching is like a dark fairy-tale, a bewildering nightmare, and a novel that made me very interested in reading more from Helen Oyeyemi.
3,5 stars and a great book to read this October! #Halloween
August 16, 2020
3.75 stars
Any fans of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House might want to put Helen Oyeyemi’s White is for Witching on their radar! Or really any fans of any books where a house plays a major role - Rebecca, Salem’s Lot, you get the idea.
.
It’s quite a chilling little book, following twin brother and sister as they try to move on from their home in Devon which their father attempts to run as a guesthouse, onto university, even though they’re both still struggling with the death of their mother, and Miranda battles with her pica.
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I’ve never read a book that featured a character afflicted by pica, which is an appetite for non-edible or hold no nutritious content, and I thought Oyeyemi did a good job of balancing Miranda’s struggle, the effects of being addicted to eating chalk, her desire to please her father battling against her repugnance to normal food. It was creepy at times yes (especially her ancestors’ pica, I won’t spoil it but it had me cringing on the train), but it wasn’t like the disorder was being used as just a sensational plot device.
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I really liked all the characters, and I enjoyed the relationship which didn’t feel forced (yay for more normalised f/f romances!), but I did get confused by the narration sometimes. It jumps around in the middle of chapters, and it’s not always clear who is speaking (sometimes it’s the house itself). It might take a little while to get back in the flow, but it’s a very atmospheric read, with dark fairytale vibes and some fabulous writing in there, even if it is a bit uneven at times.
Any fans of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House might want to put Helen Oyeyemi’s White is for Witching on their radar! Or really any fans of any books where a house plays a major role - Rebecca, Salem’s Lot, you get the idea.
.
It’s quite a chilling little book, following twin brother and sister as they try to move on from their home in Devon which their father attempts to run as a guesthouse, onto university, even though they’re both still struggling with the death of their mother, and Miranda battles with her pica.
.
I’ve never read a book that featured a character afflicted by pica, which is an appetite for non-edible or hold no nutritious content, and I thought Oyeyemi did a good job of balancing Miranda’s struggle, the effects of being addicted to eating chalk, her desire to please her father battling against her repugnance to normal food. It was creepy at times yes (especially her ancestors’ pica, I won’t spoil it but it had me cringing on the train), but it wasn’t like the disorder was being used as just a sensational plot device.
.
I really liked all the characters, and I enjoyed the relationship which didn’t feel forced (yay for more normalised f/f romances!), but I did get confused by the narration sometimes. It jumps around in the middle of chapters, and it’s not always clear who is speaking (sometimes it’s the house itself). It might take a little while to get back in the flow, but it’s a very atmospheric read, with dark fairytale vibes and some fabulous writing in there, even if it is a bit uneven at times.
January 11, 2019
This book is gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.
As dark as its title is not; haunting is the most useful word to describe it. Oyeyemi is an incredible writer, though in some ways you have to be in the mood for it. Luscious prose that slips in and out of lucidity, characters that are bent and torn and broken yet iron-cored strong.
There is no reliable narrator here. There are multiple possibilities for an ending, but the most satisfying one is where all attachment to this physical, mundane, three-dimensional world is thrown aside. I found myself having to hold at least three separate understandings in my mind at once, each one as relevant as the next, complementary but directly in opposition.
I'll say nothing of the plot; I don't think anything can be said that Oyeyemi hasn't said herself.
As dark as its title is not; haunting is the most useful word to describe it. Oyeyemi is an incredible writer, though in some ways you have to be in the mood for it. Luscious prose that slips in and out of lucidity, characters that are bent and torn and broken yet iron-cored strong.
There is no reliable narrator here. There are multiple possibilities for an ending, but the most satisfying one is where all attachment to this physical, mundane, three-dimensional world is thrown aside. I found myself having to hold at least three separate understandings in my mind at once, each one as relevant as the next, complementary but directly in opposition.
I'll say nothing of the plot; I don't think anything can be said that Oyeyemi hasn't said herself.
March 15, 2017
“She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening.” This is a quote by Angela Carter that's totally unrelated to this book, but that still fits the themes of the story absolutely perfectly in my opinion.
White is for Witching is a very weird, often times confusing, but ultimately very satisfying read about a haunted house and essentially, a haunted girl. Even though the story has various narrators (including the house itself) and one might argue various main characters, at the centre of the novel stands a young girl called Miranda. She recently lost her mother and at the beginning of the book, returns home after staying in a mental health clinic because of her pica, an eating disorder that made her a develop an appetite for things like chalk and plastic. As she goes off to college she slowly realizes that the house her and her family have lived in for generations does not quite want to let her go.
This book deals with themes like the power of female ancestry, race and racism and mental illness. It was my first book by Helen Oyeyemi, but most certainly not my last!
White is for Witching is a very weird, often times confusing, but ultimately very satisfying read about a haunted house and essentially, a haunted girl. Even though the story has various narrators (including the house itself) and one might argue various main characters, at the centre of the novel stands a young girl called Miranda. She recently lost her mother and at the beginning of the book, returns home after staying in a mental health clinic because of her pica, an eating disorder that made her a develop an appetite for things like chalk and plastic. As she goes off to college she slowly realizes that the house her and her family have lived in for generations does not quite want to let her go.
This book deals with themes like the power of female ancestry, race and racism and mental illness. It was my first book by Helen Oyeyemi, but most certainly not my last!
December 4, 2014
Miranda Silver is in Dover, in the ground beneath her mother’s house.
Her throat is blocked with a slice of apple
(to stop her speaking words that may betray her)
her ears are filled with earth
(to keep her from hearing sounds that will confuse her)
her eyes are closed, but
her heart thrums hard like hummingbird wings.
Does she remember me at all I miss her I miss the way her eyes are the same shade of grey no matter the strength or weakness of the light I miss the taste of her I
see her in my sleep, a star planted seed-deep, her arms outstretched, her fists clenched, her black dress clinging to her like mud.
She chose this as the only way to fight the soucouyant.
I'd like to quote every line of this book.
But you might as well just read it.
Her throat is blocked with a slice of apple
(to stop her speaking words that may betray her)
her ears are filled with earth
(to keep her from hearing sounds that will confuse her)
her eyes are closed, but
her heart thrums hard like hummingbird wings.
Does she remember me at all I miss her I miss the way her eyes are the same shade of grey no matter the strength or weakness of the light I miss the taste of her I
see her in my sleep, a star planted seed-deep, her arms outstretched, her fists clenched, her black dress clinging to her like mud.
She chose this as the only way to fight the soucouyant.
I'd like to quote every line of this book.
But you might as well just read it.
June 30, 2009
White Is for Witching blends gothic horror, racial politics, and the older, bloodier sort of fairy tales into a deeply unsettling novel. The story opens with a passage intentionally reminiscent of "Snow White," describing the mysterious imprisonment? disappearance? death? of the heroine, Miranda Silver. From there, we move backward in time, to the point when the events leading to Miranda's fate began.
The story is told from several points of view, all of them seeing events from different perspectives, all of them possibly unreliable narrators. Miranda herself, her brother Eliot, her lover Ore, and her ancestral home all have their own versions to tell as the plot unfolds.
The house looms as the center of Miranda's tale. Menacing and xenophobic, it desires control over the people it considers its own, and means harm toward those it sees as foreign. The house and its ghosts want to make Miranda a vessel for their hatred. Miranda struggles against the house's domination, a battle that threatens to destroy her mental health and possibly her life.
Helen Oyeyemi's prose is haunting and poetic. I hesitate to use the word "beautiful," as that might give a false impression of "pleasantness." Oyeyemi depicts nightmares, not pretty dreams. She has a knack for describing ordinary things in a way that makes them suddenly horrific, and when she describes horrific things, she does it in a subtle, oblique way that feels like you're looking at something so unspeakable that you can only look with your peripheral vision:
The University Library is a mouth shut tight, each tooth a book, each book growing over, under and behind the other. The writing desks are placed in front of bookshelves, some of them between bookshelves so that whoever is sitting at the desk gets a feeling of something dusty, intangible and unspeakably powerful, something like God, watching them through tiny gaps in the shelves. People kept trooping past the desk I'd chosen, in search of books and free seats, and within half an hour I'd stopped looking up when someone passed. I wanted to read about the soucouyant. I wanted to write about her, I still do. What do I want to write? Just a book, probably, another tooth for the UL's mouth. Something that explores the meaning of the old woman whose only interaction with other people was consumption. The soucouyant who is not content with her self. She is a double danger — there is the danger of meeting her, and the danger of becoming her.
White Is for Witching works as a novel of the supernatural, and it also works as an allegory. I hesitate to even mention the A-word, for fear of driving away readers who've been burned by preachy authors. Helen Oyeyemi doesn't preach, however. There's a message, but it never overshadows the plot and characters. It's just that you can see an extra dimension to the story if you look through the lens of allegory.
The story is told from several points of view, all of them seeing events from different perspectives, all of them possibly unreliable narrators. Miranda herself, her brother Eliot, her lover Ore, and her ancestral home all have their own versions to tell as the plot unfolds.
The house looms as the center of Miranda's tale. Menacing and xenophobic, it desires control over the people it considers its own, and means harm toward those it sees as foreign. The house and its ghosts want to make Miranda a vessel for their hatred. Miranda struggles against the house's domination, a battle that threatens to destroy her mental health and possibly her life.
Helen Oyeyemi's prose is haunting and poetic. I hesitate to use the word "beautiful," as that might give a false impression of "pleasantness." Oyeyemi depicts nightmares, not pretty dreams. She has a knack for describing ordinary things in a way that makes them suddenly horrific, and when she describes horrific things, she does it in a subtle, oblique way that feels like you're looking at something so unspeakable that you can only look with your peripheral vision:
The University Library is a mouth shut tight, each tooth a book, each book growing over, under and behind the other. The writing desks are placed in front of bookshelves, some of them between bookshelves so that whoever is sitting at the desk gets a feeling of something dusty, intangible and unspeakably powerful, something like God, watching them through tiny gaps in the shelves. People kept trooping past the desk I'd chosen, in search of books and free seats, and within half an hour I'd stopped looking up when someone passed. I wanted to read about the soucouyant. I wanted to write about her, I still do. What do I want to write? Just a book, probably, another tooth for the UL's mouth. Something that explores the meaning of the old woman whose only interaction with other people was consumption. The soucouyant who is not content with her self. She is a double danger — there is the danger of meeting her, and the danger of becoming her.
White Is for Witching works as a novel of the supernatural, and it also works as an allegory. I hesitate to even mention the A-word, for fear of driving away readers who've been burned by preachy authors. Helen Oyeyemi doesn't preach, however. There's a message, but it never overshadows the plot and characters. It's just that you can see an extra dimension to the story if you look through the lens of allegory.
July 22, 2015
I feel really guilty that I didn't review this sooner—it's three months ago that I read it, and already most of it has faded, leaving only a shimmer of a disturbing dark magical feeling. Which, now that I write it out, is fairly apt: this book gets a million stars for its knock-out language and harrowing captivation, but I just never really felt like I understood what it all meant.
Our heroine (such as she is) is Miranda Silver, a gothic waif with swirling dark hair who stumbles about in stiletto heels wasting away because of a condition called pica, which compels her to eat only things that are not food: chalk, dirt, plastic. She is also inhabited by, or able to commune with, or possessed or obsessed or terrified of her dead mother and her dead mother's dead mother and a few more dead moms on up the chain—and possibly also the house in which she lives with her brother and widowed father, both of whom are desperately trying to keep her alive, but also trying to keep their own grieving and strange heads above water. So.
The whole book is very slippery, very magical, very dark, with lots of harrowing dreams and hopeless striving and languorous sex and unspoken doublespeak. If you let yourself sink in, it will envelop you and cast a pall of foreboding shadow-sparkle at the edges of your vision while you're reading, and for a good while after. But ultimately I think I felt like it was all just a web of spun black sugar that melted away to reveal nothing concrete at the center that I could sink my teeth into.
Our heroine (such as she is) is Miranda Silver, a gothic waif with swirling dark hair who stumbles about in stiletto heels wasting away because of a condition called pica, which compels her to eat only things that are not food: chalk, dirt, plastic. She is also inhabited by, or able to commune with, or possessed or obsessed or terrified of her dead mother and her dead mother's dead mother and a few more dead moms on up the chain—and possibly also the house in which she lives with her brother and widowed father, both of whom are desperately trying to keep her alive, but also trying to keep their own grieving and strange heads above water. So.
The whole book is very slippery, very magical, very dark, with lots of harrowing dreams and hopeless striving and languorous sex and unspoken doublespeak. If you let yourself sink in, it will envelop you and cast a pall of foreboding shadow-sparkle at the edges of your vision while you're reading, and for a good while after. But ultimately I think I felt like it was all just a web of spun black sugar that melted away to reveal nothing concrete at the center that I could sink my teeth into.
February 1, 2016
Bewildered. Confused. Empty. I was never able to find the rhythm of this. The groove. There were times I did, but I lost it. It was hazy. It slipped away. Sometimes I lost who the narrator was, I had to go back to find him/her/it. Sometimes I lost the time we were in. Maybe it has to to with the stopped watch. Maybe the house was playing tricks on me. Again I had to go back to find it, the time. All this going back was made easy by the delicious sentences. But in the end even those sentences did not make up for my disappointment. Things went exactly how I thought. I wanted something more. I wanted to peek deeper behind the doors, I wanted something darker. I just couldn't grasp it.
Read
March 28, 2015Not for me. Maybe for people with an interest in books about mental illness, who like that subject presented in a sort of mythopoetic manner.
February 8, 2015
I thought about this book for a long time last night. After I finished it I turned the light of to go to sleep, and I couldn't turn my brain off. Honestly, this book has sort of been like a dark cloud or shadow following me since I started it. It's weighty, almost claustrophobic, and I felt almost as if I had a literal weight pressing down on me whenever I was reading it.
White is for Witching is not for everyone. If you are looking for straight-up horror, this isn't it. But it is a deeply unsettling and creepy book.
Oyeyemi's prose is elegant and poetic. This woman knows how to write. Any book that has multiple narrators and several instances of stream of consciousness writing, and yet still remains easy to follow and thoroughly engaging is utter brilliance. There are really no surprises in the story, but the subtle horror and downright disturbing imagery make up for the fact that we pretty much know where this story is headed.
Oyeyemi defies convention, and uses several unreliable narrators, some of which come as sort of a surprise toward the end. She slowly teases out a doomed love story that makes what is happening to one of the characters even more tragic, if that's even possible.
White is for Witching is unique and beautifully written. If you are looking for something dark and thought provoking, this is it.
White is for Witching is not for everyone. If you are looking for straight-up horror, this isn't it. But it is a deeply unsettling and creepy book.
Oyeyemi's prose is elegant and poetic. This woman knows how to write. Any book that has multiple narrators and several instances of stream of consciousness writing, and yet still remains easy to follow and thoroughly engaging is utter brilliance. There are really no surprises in the story, but the subtle horror and downright disturbing imagery make up for the fact that we pretty much know where this story is headed.
Oyeyemi defies convention, and uses several unreliable narrators, some of which come as sort of a surprise toward the end. She slowly teases out a doomed love story that makes what is happening to one of the characters even more tragic, if that's even possible.
White is for Witching is unique and beautifully written. If you are looking for something dark and thought provoking, this is it.
September 8, 2023
Ok - let's begin with the Good Stuff. The second half of this book is much better than the first although it's a much shorter half - the whole mystery, gaps in the narrative, disorienting set up of the first half is replaced with several strong narrative drives. In the second half, Miranda is at University, Cambridge - no less; and we're re-introduced to Ore, whom we met briefly in the first half. Tijana is also a presence - the Kosovan girl that Miranda has had a violent encounter with at school - knife held to the cheek, and accused of almost killing a Kosovan boy, Agim. There is a strange confusion over identifying Miranda, which her twin brother Eliot tries to clear up. He threatens the Kosovan girl and her cousin to stay away from his sister - just an example of the mysterious events taking up space in the first half.
I liked all the Cambridge scenes - these parts I would say are based on real-life experiences - they are convincing - the place, the gravity of the ancient university, its rituals etc, gowns for hall dinner, Freshers Week, the portraits hanging around the dining room - all white men - gives the undercut of Oyeyemi's perspective - the fourteenth century college building with its rooms cut into the walls of the building etc, etc. I liked the romance between again I found it convincing. I especially liked Ore's background, her level-headed responses to the problems Miranda is trying to deal with - and most of all her kindness, her active care for Miranda; which comes at some cost to her own health and well-being.
For me the Big deal about the Cambridge sections was how accurately Oyeyemi captures that sense of disconnect that I think is rife, especially with First Years. It brought to mind The Idiot by Elif Batuman who is also convincing reference student life. I had the same experience myself and it's only now I actually understand it - short aside here, but if you have dogs - sorry about this, bear with me. Dogs and their owners recognise being part of a pack - and as a child in a family unit, your family is also your pack - so being sent to University, generally viewed as a privileged but also a rights of passage experience is also full of the disconnections of being ejected from the pack. Humans need to remember we also function as animals - and I think Oyeyemi's delve into the occult and the mysteries in life, brings those sensations strongly to the forefront, one could say that those alienating experiences, especially of the first term at Uni is exactly the setting that suits the purpose of her novel.
Other good things - again from the second half - Miranda and Ore recount tales to each other, spooky stories containing a hag, an elderly woman who preys on children - yes she intends to eat them. These stories bothered my head until I thought of Baba Yaga - an old hag who flies around in a pestle and mortar - it's a well known Russian folk-tale - probably more well-known if you're Russian, or East-European etc.
Now to the dislikes: Miranda's parents and even her twin brother Eliot - are side-lined into very ephemeral substances. The father is present in his worry and care about Miranda - he tries to feed her - and sorry another aside, a good point - Oyeyemi captures that perfect essence of a person sinking into madness - on the surface everything seems 'normal' even her nearest and dearest although aware of the issues are nowhere close to her. There is a very poignant scene towards the end between father and daughter, where Miranda says, "I think it might be better to leave here... " she means the house, but only the reader knows - something we call dramatic irony - the reader knows instant and immediate action is required. Later the same night Eliot brings Miranda an apple pie also seeking to help her, but he like his father is literally light years from perceiving the immediacy of Miranda's desperation.
Dislikes. The first half - the narrative switches repeatedly between the twins and The House and I think the father and dead Lily, the Mother, gets an occasional voice to fill out the backstory of this family. But alienation doesn't really work within the confines of a protective family - they needed to go - and the story rocks into the teenage realm of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' - is that right? And various other Vampire like movies - I caught a glimpse just the other night on Sci-fi channel of a girl sucking the life out of her victim - black smoke being pulled from the victim's mouth into the undead - and unfortunately there are certain scenes in White is for Witching which fall splat into this hackneyed visual.
Anything else? I was surprised I think at how good the second half is - I was pulled in and I had to keep reading. It's clear to me that Oyeyemi has an academic background, I couldn't help wonder at the choice of Miranda - Prospero's daughter in The Tempest - which certainly reflected the father-daughter relationship. My antennae also picked up overtones of Amos Tutuola, the Nigerian writer in Oyeyemi's first half - it took me awhile to pin down The Palm-Wine Drinkard - which I read as a student - and found to be very powerful. I suspect I also dipped into Tutuola's My Life in the Bush of Ghosts - which I will be re-reading.
I'll also be re-reading Baba Yaga: A Russian Folk Tale.
Conclusion: Yes, I probably will try another Oyeyemi - not The Icarus Girl which I tried. Yes, Oyeyemi is a talented writer, with plenty of contemporary issues in her books; and I love her use of folk and fairy tales; but I want to see something which moves on from teenage angst, love -affairs and such. I want something for the 56 year old me - with fairy tales and folk lore and soucouyants.
I liked all the Cambridge scenes - these parts I would say are based on real-life experiences - they are convincing - the place, the gravity of the ancient university, its rituals etc, gowns for hall dinner, Freshers Week, the portraits hanging around the dining room - all white men - gives the undercut of Oyeyemi's perspective - the fourteenth century college building with its rooms cut into the walls of the building etc, etc. I liked the romance between again I found it convincing. I especially liked Ore's background, her level-headed responses to the problems Miranda is trying to deal with - and most of all her kindness, her active care for Miranda; which comes at some cost to her own health and well-being.
For me the Big deal about the Cambridge sections was how accurately Oyeyemi captures that sense of disconnect that I think is rife, especially with First Years. It brought to mind The Idiot by Elif Batuman who is also convincing reference student life. I had the same experience myself and it's only now I actually understand it - short aside here, but if you have dogs - sorry about this, bear with me. Dogs and their owners recognise being part of a pack - and as a child in a family unit, your family is also your pack - so being sent to University, generally viewed as a privileged but also a rights of passage experience is also full of the disconnections of being ejected from the pack. Humans need to remember we also function as animals - and I think Oyeyemi's delve into the occult and the mysteries in life, brings those sensations strongly to the forefront, one could say that those alienating experiences, especially of the first term at Uni is exactly the setting that suits the purpose of her novel.
Other good things - again from the second half - Miranda and Ore recount tales to each other, spooky stories containing a hag, an elderly woman who preys on children - yes she intends to eat them. These stories bothered my head until I thought of Baba Yaga - an old hag who flies around in a pestle and mortar - it's a well known Russian folk-tale - probably more well-known if you're Russian, or East-European etc.
Now to the dislikes: Miranda's parents and even her twin brother Eliot - are side-lined into very ephemeral substances. The father is present in his worry and care about Miranda - he tries to feed her - and sorry another aside, a good point - Oyeyemi captures that perfect essence of a person sinking into madness - on the surface everything seems 'normal' even her nearest and dearest although aware of the issues are nowhere close to her. There is a very poignant scene towards the end between father and daughter, where Miranda says, "I think it might be better to leave here... " she means the house, but only the reader knows - something we call dramatic irony - the reader knows instant and immediate action is required. Later the same night Eliot brings Miranda an apple pie also seeking to help her, but he like his father is literally light years from perceiving the immediacy of Miranda's desperation.
Dislikes. The first half - the narrative switches repeatedly between the twins and The House and I think the father and dead Lily, the Mother, gets an occasional voice to fill out the backstory of this family. But alienation doesn't really work within the confines of a protective family - they needed to go - and the story rocks into the teenage realm of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' - is that right? And various other Vampire like movies - I caught a glimpse just the other night on Sci-fi channel of a girl sucking the life out of her victim - black smoke being pulled from the victim's mouth into the undead - and unfortunately there are certain scenes in White is for Witching which fall splat into this hackneyed visual.
Anything else? I was surprised I think at how good the second half is - I was pulled in and I had to keep reading. It's clear to me that Oyeyemi has an academic background, I couldn't help wonder at the choice of Miranda - Prospero's daughter in The Tempest - which certainly reflected the father-daughter relationship. My antennae also picked up overtones of Amos Tutuola, the Nigerian writer in Oyeyemi's first half - it took me awhile to pin down The Palm-Wine Drinkard - which I read as a student - and found to be very powerful. I suspect I also dipped into Tutuola's My Life in the Bush of Ghosts - which I will be re-reading.
I'll also be re-reading Baba Yaga: A Russian Folk Tale.
Conclusion: Yes, I probably will try another Oyeyemi - not The Icarus Girl which I tried. Yes, Oyeyemi is a talented writer, with plenty of contemporary issues in her books; and I love her use of folk and fairy tales; but I want to see something which moves on from teenage angst, love -affairs and such. I want something for the 56 year old me - with fairy tales and folk lore and soucouyants.
September 11, 2023
Helen Oyeyemi’s White is for Witching is the story of twins Miranda and Eliot Silver, who are grieving the death of their mother Lily while living in the matriarchal home, which their father Luc has turned into a bed and breakfast. The focus of the novel is Miranda, who suffers from pica and anorexia, and at the opening of the story has just been released from a long stay in a psychiatric hospital.
This is a challenging and fragmented work, told from four different points of view over the course of the book that are occasionally difficult to distinguish. Among other things, the novel works as a unique haunted house story, wherein one of the narrators is the house itself (which is a trope I love). Early on, the house presents to readers as an ambiguous character, at least to those who dwell in it. But you soon get little hints that it might not be neutral or safe. This becomes clear mainly from the perspective of characters outside of the family, as evidenced when two young daughters of the housekeeper and gardener leave a letter of warning to Miranda upon their family’s hasty departure: This house is bigger than you know! There are extra floors, with lots of people on them. They are looking people. They look at you, and they never move.
It soon becomes apparent that the house is a symbol of xenophobia and racism, which towards the end of the novel gets a bit heavy handed through repetition, but I definitely appreciate what Oyeyemi’s is saying about the dehumanizing effects of isolationism. It’s certainly a timely tale.
There are some very unsettling scenes in this book, including a midnight run-in with a doppelganger and a creepy scene involving a dressmaker’s dummy, although the scares were few and far between. White is for Witching called to mind The Haunting of Hill House, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, “The Fall of the House of Usher”, Grimm's fairy tales, and Emily Dickinson. It is also very much Oyeyemi's own lyrical voice.
This is a challenging and fragmented work, told from four different points of view over the course of the book that are occasionally difficult to distinguish. Among other things, the novel works as a unique haunted house story, wherein one of the narrators is the house itself (which is a trope I love). Early on, the house presents to readers as an ambiguous character, at least to those who dwell in it. But you soon get little hints that it might not be neutral or safe. This becomes clear mainly from the perspective of characters outside of the family, as evidenced when two young daughters of the housekeeper and gardener leave a letter of warning to Miranda upon their family’s hasty departure: This house is bigger than you know! There are extra floors, with lots of people on them. They are looking people. They look at you, and they never move.
It soon becomes apparent that the house is a symbol of xenophobia and racism, which towards the end of the novel gets a bit heavy handed through repetition, but I definitely appreciate what Oyeyemi’s is saying about the dehumanizing effects of isolationism. It’s certainly a timely tale.
There are some very unsettling scenes in this book, including a midnight run-in with a doppelganger and a creepy scene involving a dressmaker’s dummy, although the scares were few and far between. White is for Witching called to mind The Haunting of Hill House, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, “The Fall of the House of Usher”, Grimm's fairy tales, and Emily Dickinson. It is also very much Oyeyemi's own lyrical voice.
March 14, 2014
So, I'm still trying to digest things on this one. Which, of course, I like (because anything that challenges me must ultimately be good for me, yes?). Unfortunately, I feel a bit like I did after reading the Goon Squad: that is, maybe there is nothing to find and so it's not really that the book is challenging me, but instead is simply that I am second guessing my own reaction. In other words, is the author a genius or is she a fake? I enjoyed Mr. Fox and I loved Boy, Snow, Bird so I'm tempted to give Oyeyemi the benefit of the doubt. And yet, I just can't really bring myself to give it more than the middle-of-the-bell curve 3 star rating.
This is a ghost story; it is the story of a haunted house. The house is not haunted by ghosts, it is haunted by its own presence (which I would argue is decidedly male given its predilection for collecting female souls and its desire for control). The ghosts are the past generations of Silver women (Anna, Jennifer, Lily) and during the course of this story, Miranda. However, the purpose of these ghosts is unclear. The house itself doesn't really haunt others; it simply collects the women. The women do not harm others, they just join themselves. I guess they cause emotional harm to Luc, Elliot and Ore, but really they are not doing much.
It is a fairy tale. There are lots of references to Snow White (including the poisoned winter apples). The story also includes fairy tales (the story of the souycouant and the goodlady), as well as oblique references to Hansel and Gretal and Sleeping Beauty. It is not clearly defined, nor does it follow the pattern of a traditional fairy tale. There is no clear bad guy, there is no escape (or attempt to escape).
It really is just a collection of pretty images. And yes, Oyeyemi can write the images. However, this book is not convincingly a story. There is no plot tension or development or crisis.
I would call it a character piece except that the three narrators are Ore, Elliot, and the house ghost and none of these change. They don't develop; they don't challenge themselves or others. Miranda is the fourth main character, but of course she is always portrayed in third person (because she a compilation of Anna, Jennifer, and Lily? I was unsure why she was not granted narration status). She changes the most throughout time, but not necessarily in the course of the novel. She is a slightly brooding teenager with pica before her mother dies (and she determines it is her fault for falling asleep the night that Elliot predicted Lily's death), but otherwise she was pretty normal. After Lily's death, Miranda becomes a shadow of her former self (hah, hah, pun intended). She wastes away turning into the ghost of her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. Unfortunately, she is not very sympathetic and so the reader is left not really caring.
Overall it is a worthwhile read. It is compelling, spooky at times (although not as dark as I typically like), and a quick read. Certainly recommended as a page turner, but not really sure that there is much more here.
This is a ghost story; it is the story of a haunted house. The house is not haunted by ghosts, it is haunted by its own presence (which I would argue is decidedly male given its predilection for collecting female souls and its desire for control). The ghosts are the past generations of Silver women (Anna, Jennifer, Lily) and during the course of this story, Miranda. However, the purpose of these ghosts is unclear. The house itself doesn't really haunt others; it simply collects the women. The women do not harm others, they just join themselves. I guess they cause emotional harm to Luc, Elliot and Ore, but really they are not doing much.
It is a fairy tale. There are lots of references to Snow White (including the poisoned winter apples). The story also includes fairy tales (the story of the souycouant and the goodlady), as well as oblique references to Hansel and Gretal and Sleeping Beauty. It is not clearly defined, nor does it follow the pattern of a traditional fairy tale. There is no clear bad guy, there is no escape (or attempt to escape).
It really is just a collection of pretty images. And yes, Oyeyemi can write the images. However, this book is not convincingly a story. There is no plot tension or development or crisis.
I would call it a character piece except that the three narrators are Ore, Elliot, and the house ghost and none of these change. They don't develop; they don't challenge themselves or others. Miranda is the fourth main character, but of course she is always portrayed in third person (because she a compilation of Anna, Jennifer, and Lily? I was unsure why she was not granted narration status). She changes the most throughout time, but not necessarily in the course of the novel. She is a slightly brooding teenager with pica before her mother dies (and she determines it is her fault for falling asleep the night that Elliot predicted Lily's death), but otherwise she was pretty normal. After Lily's death, Miranda becomes a shadow of her former self (hah, hah, pun intended). She wastes away turning into the ghost of her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. Unfortunately, she is not very sympathetic and so the reader is left not really caring.
Overall it is a worthwhile read. It is compelling, spooky at times (although not as dark as I typically like), and a quick read. Certainly recommended as a page turner, but not really sure that there is much more here.
July 2, 2024
I will be honest. I am not quite sure what I just read. Maybe I'm not quite as 'intelligent' as I need to be to understand this.
The book has an interesting narrative method, three different narrators through the whole story which led to minor confusion on my part. Largely the narration felt empty of any emotion and on occasions of any purpose. Do people really think like these characters? I'm seriously doubting it!
As a whole not a terrible read but I still feel that maybe I'm too dim to fully comprehend. I'm rating three stars for its boldness and originality but could just as easily award just the one.
The book has an interesting narrative method, three different narrators through the whole story which led to minor confusion on my part. Largely the narration felt empty of any emotion and on occasions of any purpose. Do people really think like these characters? I'm seriously doubting it!
As a whole not a terrible read but I still feel that maybe I'm too dim to fully comprehend. I'm rating three stars for its boldness and originality but could just as easily award just the one.
February 22, 2019
White is for Witching is a deeply unsettling horror story and another masterpiece by Helen Oyeyemi. This complex novel contains so much for a fairly short book. I'm spellbound by Oyeyemi's writing. It's so out of the box. She did that.
The Silver twins, Eliot and Miranda, live at their family house in Dover, England that their mother inherited. Their father convinced her to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. When the twins are sixteen their mother dies. This causes Miranda to have a nervous breakdown and exacerbates her pica—a condition where she craves and eats inedible items like chalk. When Miranda returns home from her stint at a mental hospital, strange things start happening at the house. Dover has problems with people being hostile to immigrants and refugees. The Silver house is especially alive with malice, possessing malevolent ways of making its inhospitality known.
A chorus of voices take it in turns relaying the story. The different voices and sections bleed into each other to very eerie effect. A surreality permeates the novel. Oyeyemi plays with sentence structure and language in a very cool way. It's so inventive with its use of line breaks & demarcations and the way indents for new paragraphs are sometimes omitted. The house is one of the narrators of this book—that's how innovative it is. Folklore is a recurring motif in Oyeyemi's work. In addition to the allusions to existing folktales in White is for Witching, we get the folklore of Silver family, as told to us by the house. I'm a big fan of supernatural, traumatic family histories, so this was just the ticket. (Recommended readalike: Human Croquet.)
Oyeyemi is great at portraying relationships, be they familial, romantic, or friendships. White is for Witching is a haunting portrayal of a fucked up, unnatural family. The relationship between the twins is really fascinating and finely drawn. Eliot—one of the narrators—is an especially compelling and complicated character. I loved Eliot's wry tones and I appreciated that this book is leavened by humorous parts. The voice of the house is wickedly deranged. Oyeyemi personifies the house in ingenious ways.
Within the book it's even queried how to tell this story. It explores reliable vs. unreliable narrators. Which is which? What can you believe? Sometimes the narrators will contradict themselves and call into question everything that came before. White is for Witching is layered with a lot going on beneath the surface.
Helen Oyeyemi has an alchemy with language. Her turns of phrase, her descriptions—I could feast on them forever. White is for Witching is scary and disturbing, with so many chilling details. It's SO CREEPY when the house speaks directly to the reader. It feels like the frightening things of the book could reach out and snatch you. My favorite movie genre is horror and I feel like a film adaptation of this would be too scary. (Don't get me wrong: I'd still be dying to watch.) I feel like I'll have the voice of that house in my head till the day I die—kind of like the characters it torments in the novel.
White is for Witching tackles racism, hatred, fear, blame, rage, and grief. It portrays the experiences of POC in Britain. This is a tale of bottomless hunger and nightmarish realities. Oyeyemi conjures up storyworlds I love to inhabit. I love the magical elements of her books because in fiction you really can make anything you want happen; Oyeyemi takes full advantage of that. You can rely on the fact that Oyeyemi may take her stories anywhere.
White is for Witching is a mysterious, ambiguous treat that will creep under your skin. It's a family saga, an examination of xenophobia, a tale of coming-of-age, a love story, and so much more. This one will stay with me for a long time. Read it and see for yourself.
The Silver twins, Eliot and Miranda, live at their family house in Dover, England that their mother inherited. Their father convinced her to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. When the twins are sixteen their mother dies. This causes Miranda to have a nervous breakdown and exacerbates her pica—a condition where she craves and eats inedible items like chalk. When Miranda returns home from her stint at a mental hospital, strange things start happening at the house. Dover has problems with people being hostile to immigrants and refugees. The Silver house is especially alive with malice, possessing malevolent ways of making its inhospitality known.
A chorus of voices take it in turns relaying the story. The different voices and sections bleed into each other to very eerie effect. A surreality permeates the novel. Oyeyemi plays with sentence structure and language in a very cool way. It's so inventive with its use of line breaks & demarcations and the way indents for new paragraphs are sometimes omitted. The house is one of the narrators of this book—that's how innovative it is. Folklore is a recurring motif in Oyeyemi's work. In addition to the allusions to existing folktales in White is for Witching, we get the folklore of Silver family, as told to us by the house. I'm a big fan of supernatural, traumatic family histories, so this was just the ticket. (Recommended readalike: Human Croquet.)
Oyeyemi is great at portraying relationships, be they familial, romantic, or friendships. White is for Witching is a haunting portrayal of a fucked up, unnatural family. The relationship between the twins is really fascinating and finely drawn. Eliot—one of the narrators—is an especially compelling and complicated character. I loved Eliot's wry tones and I appreciated that this book is leavened by humorous parts. The voice of the house is wickedly deranged. Oyeyemi personifies the house in ingenious ways.
Within the book it's even queried how to tell this story. It explores reliable vs. unreliable narrators. Which is which? What can you believe? Sometimes the narrators will contradict themselves and call into question everything that came before. White is for Witching is layered with a lot going on beneath the surface.
Helen Oyeyemi has an alchemy with language. Her turns of phrase, her descriptions—I could feast on them forever. White is for Witching is scary and disturbing, with so many chilling details. It's SO CREEPY when the house speaks directly to the reader. It feels like the frightening things of the book could reach out and snatch you. My favorite movie genre is horror and I feel like a film adaptation of this would be too scary. (Don't get me wrong: I'd still be dying to watch.) I feel like I'll have the voice of that house in my head till the day I die—kind of like the characters it torments in the novel.
White is for Witching tackles racism, hatred, fear, blame, rage, and grief. It portrays the experiences of POC in Britain. This is a tale of bottomless hunger and nightmarish realities. Oyeyemi conjures up storyworlds I love to inhabit. I love the magical elements of her books because in fiction you really can make anything you want happen; Oyeyemi takes full advantage of that. You can rely on the fact that Oyeyemi may take her stories anywhere.
White is for Witching is a mysterious, ambiguous treat that will creep under your skin. It's a family saga, an examination of xenophobia, a tale of coming-of-age, a love story, and so much more. This one will stay with me for a long time. Read it and see for yourself.
April 2, 2024
It's like Murakami, but raw and gothic (and less weird sex and misogyny). Oyeyemi's voice is so striking, so unique that I'm torn between jealousy and unadulterated admiration.
I want to read everything she's written.
I want to read everything she's written.
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