“I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.”

Just the first line of Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle encapsulates the book’s simple, whimsical, and charming nature. The story is written as the journal of seventeen-year-old Cassandra Mortmain, who lives in a crumbling castle in the 1930s English countryside with her wildly eccentric and poverty-stricken family, consisting of her recluse of a father who, after reaching his literary zenith, seems to be going mad; her melodramatic and self-indulgent yet devoted step-mother, Topaz; her chronically-romantic, covetous, and loving sister, Rose; her “tolerably[-]bright” and observant brother, Thomas; and Stephen, the awkward and demure live-in jack-of-all-trades who is hopelessly staunch in his fondness for Cassandra. When two American brothers arrive at Godsend, the village in which they live, with the legal claim to their castle, two more personalities enter the mix, and the Mortmain family enters a new chapter of their lives, one filled with friendship, upheaval, first love, money, mystery, and so on. 

Cassandra Mortmain is a flesh-and-blood character who is more a friend than a narrator. Her story-telling is intimate and authentic in ways that defy its fictional identity. Through digressions in narration that sound too human and in-real-time to be voiced by a written character and sensory details that feel too vivid and distinct to have been from the author’s imagination alone, I came to love the book with a warmth that exceeds the typical admiration for an author’s skill and rather matched the sort of affection one feels for a close companion. Cassandra's story has no clear arc and doesn’t confine itself to one genre or message. Instead, it is an exploration of all those things that comprise life — love, friendship, religion, humor, self-discovery, mystery, curiosity, emotion. This book has the power to make you laugh, cry, smile, think, hope, and experience so many things that you feel almost as though you’re living it. 

This is the kind of book for which you can easily forget there was a professional author, thanks to the easy, natural hand in which Cassandra narrates. But Smith’s genius is entirely behind the strength of this effect. Sometimes Cassandra is intentionally funny, and other times Smith works to make her amusing in ways that the character isn’t even aware of, like when Cassandra wallows in dramatics, thinking herself sincere, and you just can’t help but smile at her silliness. Smith makes her impossibly relatable, describing such small, everyday human mental experiences that no book cares to mention but that make any reader of this book feel an instant connection with Cassandra. 

The only complaints I think any reader could muster about this book is that it lacks exciting events to give it shape and that Cassandra becomes an absolute bother in the last third of the novel. This slice-of-life story, however, was not intended to have a “rollercoaster plot,” and its simplicity is part of what makes it so potent. If you’re a reader who gets bored easily, maybe don’t read this book. But if you’re a reader who appreciates life in its raw form, in which the plot comes from within rather than from without, this book will be an unforgettable gem to you. 

And, yes, it is indisputably painful to watch Cassandra transform from someone optimistically independent, endearingly naïve, and passionately idealistic into someone self-centered, emotionally-indulgent, and obsessive. But this is hardly an issue with the quality of the book or with Smith’s literary ability. No, it is an issue with humanity. Cassandra falls in love (to find out with whom, you must read the book!), and it is the undoing of her. She nurtures her feelings until they are all-consuming and self-destructive. And the awful part is that she never realizes it. This, too, along with the more positive parts of the novel, is an honest reflection of real life and a testimony to Smith’s incredible grasp on the human psyche. The masterfully-written end of the novel thus leaves us with a feeling of melancholy but also of hope.

When asked about Cassandra’s future beyond the conclusion of the book, Dodie Smith said she much rather liked to think of Cassandra as she was in the last page of the novel, “just hopeful for the future,” never to grow older. So, to you, who might be considering reading this book, I sincerely hope that you will, and that you will meet Cassandra as she is now, sitting up on her mound by Belmotte Tower, just hopeful for the future.