(This review contains spoilers throughout.)
I like to think that books can transport a person, not just into a different world, but into a different person. Books are their strongest when you can feel yourself become the protagonist, become the narrator and essentially adopt every facet of their life. That is exactly what We Were Liars did. E. Lockhart shapes an extraordinary novel amalgamated from pure mystery and frustration as Cadence Sinclair, our narrator , attempts to finally unearth the secrets of the forgotten summer when she was fifteen years old. Spending year after year on the private Beechwood Island with the extended Sinclair family, Cadence is now seventeen and has forgotten all the details of that summer. She knows something important, something crucial, is missing. And yet her entire family refuse to tell her the truth. This novel excels at showing her journey of self-discovery as she speculates, realises and is forced to survive with the stark horror of that truth.
We Were Liars at its simplest, is about family. In this case, it is the abundant, wealthy and beautiful Sinclairs who are established as significant right from page one, where an ornate family tree outlines three generations of them. Immediately the book installs the themes of aristocracy and lineage. Chapter One is dedicated entirely to describing this family, seeming to be of nothing bad, a family bred out of perfection and success. The unadulterated nature of this family is too sinister and slowly, the imperfections leak out at turbulent speeds. One of my favourite aspects of this novel was Lockhart's effortless way of portraying family dynamics. It is complicated, it is hopelessly frustrating and it is undeniably realistic. A family of that stature would have constant idealisations of inheritance and appearances which seep through every pore of the Sinclairs. It was so interesting to read the three main sisters argue endlessly over seemingly pointless paradoxes of who would inherit the biggest house on their private island, and who would get to keep the ivory ornaments once their parents died. It was so dark and so materialistic to read. Another interesting element of the family dynamic were how the mothers would scheme and perform constant passive aggressive acts of declaring their worth by using their children. The children became puppets to goad and beg to their grandfather for money without knowing why they were doing it. Even from personal experience, parents can mould you into something that looks shiny and kind just so other parents and other people can be jealous of your obedience. But with the Sinclairs, this was amplified to the maximum. Family became so much more powerful.
