The Madwoman Upstairs, by Catherine Lowell

It is hard to know what to make of this book for most of the way through it. At times it veers towards Jasper Fforde send-up territory, while at others it teeters on the edge of dry, with a sustained debate on literary criticism. An examination of authorial intent versus reader perception; a treasure hunt; a romance; a mystery; a psychological study of the price of fame and another of father-daughter relationships; the story has all of them and is consequently somewhat disjointed. The reader is never quite sure what direction it will take next, which is a bit disconcerting but ultimately quite fun. The last remaining descendent of the Bronte family, American Samantha Whipple enters Oxford with trepidation about the potential affect of her name. The original thinker discovers her beloved late father has set her a quest for her family legacy, but will her terribly English tutor help or hinder? One of the best things about this story is its championship of Anne as the most interesting Bronte, and it has some new angles on Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. The ending provides a genuine laugh-out loud moment for Bronte readers, a satisfying conclusion to an odd book.