海角大神

Lifestyles of the fabulously wealthy 鈥� from the outside, they seem so glossy and carefree. E. Lockhart鈥檚 We Were Liars gives us a peek inside the gilded chalice, but what's found there is one long, uncomfortable drink of water, rippling with bitterness, jealousy, and inadequacy.

鈥淲elcome to the beautiful Sinclair family,鈥� the novel begins. 鈥淣o one is a criminal. No one is an addict. No one is a failure.... No one is needy. No one is wrong.鈥� Oh, how the Sinclairs delude themselves.

The summer when she was 15, something happened to Cadence Sinclair Eastman while summering on her family鈥檚 private island. For two years after, she suffered memory loss and debilitating migraines. She returns to the island at 17 to piece together the shards of the accident, but it鈥檚 a聽twisted journey.

The Sinclairs are New England elite. They retreat to their island near Martha鈥檚 Vineyard every summer, led by patriarch Harris, Cadence鈥檚 grandfather. Cadence, her cousins Johnny and Mirren, and Johnny鈥檚 friend Gat 鈥� collectively known as The Liars, for no apparent reason 鈥� grew up lounging on the beach with an endless supply of fudge and strawberries. (Spoiler alert: Cadence and Gat are an item.)

However, behind the beautiful Sinclair veneer lies a family reeking of vitriol and failure. Cadence鈥檚 grandmother is the glue, and when she passes on, the hundreds of hairline fractures in the facade are thrown into high relief.

At the heart of the rot is the Sinclair estate, which includes the private island, a few mansions, and princely sums of money. Harris 鈥� hypocritical, proud, patriarchal Harris 鈥� relishes the power he wields in settling the estate and makes his daughters compete for his favor.

Cadence鈥檚 fractured memory recalls brief flashes, and Lockhart works magic in weaving them together. "We Were Liars" reads like a villanelle in the way it loops back on itself with chants and echoes. Each repetition of the refrain shows us another hidden angle, drums the phrases into our minds, and when we finally learn the truth, it鈥檚 as if a bomb goes off.

"We Were Liars" is pretty much the opposite of a young adult novel like Jenny Han's "To All the Boys I've Loved Before". Han's book is a paean to sisterhood, while "We Were Liars" is a primer for vicious sibling rivalry. The 鈥渓iars鈥� are ostensibly the four kids, but more often than not, it鈥檚 King Harris and his three poisonous princesses who twist the truth.

The Sinclair aunts, having squandered their inheritances long ago, are backstabbing, empty, self-loathing harpies. They try to use their children as pawns in power plays, but the Liars refuse to take the bait.

鈥淢y mother and her sisters were dependent on Granddad and his money,鈥� Cadence says. 鈥淭hey had the best educations, a thousand chances, a thousand connections, and still they鈥檇 ended up unable to support themselves. None of them did anything useful in the world. Nothing necessary. Nothing brave. They were still little girls, trying to get in good with Daddy.鈥�

Lockhart has a choppy, poetic style in which the crags are offset by luxurious turns of phrase. I love the moment when Gat likens himself to Heathcliff in "Wuthering Heights" to show Cadence that Harris will never accept him. Gat is bitter: 鈥淭here鈥檚 nothing Heathcliff can ever do to make these Earnshaws think he鈥檚 good enough. And he tries. He goes away, educates himself, becomes a gentleman. Still, they think he鈥檚 an animal.... Heathcliff becomes what they think of him, you know? He becomes a brute.聽The evil in him comes out.鈥�

Cadence dismisses the notion that her dear granddad can think anything of the sort, but Gat is firm. 鈥淚鈥檓 telling you, he does,鈥� he presses. 鈥淎 brute beneath a pleasant surface, betraying his kindness in letting me come to his sheltered island every year 鈥� I鈥檝e betrayed him by seducing his Catherine, his Cadence. And my penance is to become the monster he always saw in me.鈥�

Lockhart plays with variations like this, flitting between shades of gray, little fibs, outright lies, or wishful thinking; twists of meaning and misinterpretations abound, often deliberate.

Be advised that Cadence flirts with magical realism in describing the migraines she suffers while racking her faulty memory 鈥� 鈥渁 giant [wielding] a rusty saw ... slicing through [Cadence鈥檚] forehead and into the mind behind it.鈥� It threw me for a loop at first, but I grew used to it in time.

One last note: I can鈥檛 even tell you 鈥� no, seriously, I cannot tell you 鈥� how much the ending shocked me. It鈥檚 not an easy book, but you鈥檒l want to read it twice. Stunningly sharp, "We Were Liars" will sear itself into your memory.

Katie Ward Beim-Esche is the Monitor's young adult fiction critic.