From School Library Journal
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From Booklist
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Review
Declan Steeple is a bright16-year old whose memories of his absent mother return to him as vivid re-creations of his childhood past. He longs to find the truth about his missing mother who abandoned the family when he was ten. Did she really leave, as his father claims, and why? Is she alive and, if so, where is she?
When Declan and his 6-year-old sister discover the body of a would-be thief in the estate known as Steeple Hall, his mothers character and her tattered past become intertwined with his attempt to solve both the puzzle of her disappearance and the death of the burglar. His father, Bernard, sole inheritor of the Steeple fortune and committed to preserving the past as it is, stifles his attempts.
Steeple Hall, the ancestral home for generations of the Steeple family, is the books House of Memory. It evokes comparisons, as one of Declans classmates says, to Poes House of Usher. After Declans mother leaves the family, his father builds a smaller, more modest house down the hill from the mansion for his children and Birdie, their new mother. However, Steeple Hall is not entirely abandoned by them. It is lovingly maintained by Bernard (whose passion for history has him building a scale model replica of the Canadians landing at Juno Beach on D-Day) as a museum to the Steeple name, a place to store the past. For Declan the old mansion is also a link to the past and he makes regular visits to his former home and bedroom in order to relive memories of his mother.
With the help of Ezra, a school friend who serves as a foil for his ideas and suspicions, Declan discovers that his mothers past is as tainted as Bernard and Birdies coverup of the truth. In the House of Memory he learns that the past is what happens when the present has no future in it. He also realizes by the end of the novel that when one world ends, theres another one about to begin. The ambiguity of who really is the thief in the House of Memory deepens as the story unfolds. Figuratively, there are several. And inasmuch as the house is a memory-maker for Declan, helping to reconstruct his mothers past, it also liberates the truth that makes the present bearable for everyone at Steeple Hall.
Such is the writing skill of Tim Wynne-Jones that an adolescent reader will recognize in A Thief in the House of Memory that a good story, a story that hums with the dynamics of human relationships, gets told through character and theme as much as it reveals itself through a well-constructed plot. That same reader will also appreciate the fast-paced, sturdy writing of an author who paints his scenes with images equally as well as he furnishes his House of Memory with ideas worth thinking about.
Antony Di Nardo (Books in Canada)
-- Books in Canada
Book Description
It began when he was ten, the day his mother, Lindy, suddenly left home. In the past six years Dec hasnt thought about her much, nor about why his reclusive father has turned the family mansion into a kind of museum -- the House of Memory. They dont live there anymore. Less than a year after Lindy left, his father built a modern house on the same property and began a new life with Lindy's best friend, Birdy. Dec has always been mildly embarrassed and puzzled by the Old House. The hitchhiking incident changes all that. It leads not only to a gruesome death, but also unleashes a flood of memories of Decs beloved mother. And in coming to terms with her leaving, he must face some difficult questions. What really happened? Who is to blame? And what happens now? In this brilliant new novel, Tim Wynne-Jones turns his hand to the fictional territory he knows best -- the prickly ties that bind families, the murky and fertile ground that connects imagination and real life, and the liberating, healing power of good friends. All told, as always, with wit, compassion and humour.
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
They rounded the final curve and the big house sprang fully into view. Light glinted off the glass of the conservatory. The newly budding maples shhhhhed in the breeze. There was always wind up here.
Steeple Hall. The words were carved in stone above the entranceway with a shamrock on either side. Sunny broke into a run. Her yellow boots made galumphing noise on the wide stone pathway.
She waited for him by the door, wiggling like a puppy back from a walk. Dec dug out the long brass key. The tumblers turned. Sunny pushed open the door.
He smelled it before he saw it, a disturbing scent on the dry, old air. The frosted-glass vestibule door was slightly ajar. Sunny slithered out of her boots, pushed open the door, and stopped dead.
"Uh-oh," she said.
A glass-paneled bookcase had fallen. The spacious front hallway was lined on the eastern wall with bookcases, ten feet tall and the three feet wide. One of those cases lay before them. Books were strewn everywhere. A bronze bust of Plato lay at Sunny's feet. She stepped back into her brother's arms.
Then they saw the hand.