Customer Reviews

Red House: Being a Mostly Accurate Account of New England's Oldest Continuously Lived-in House

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

...and the Red House in Marshfield, Massachusetts, is fortunate enough to have one-time resident Sarah Messer as its storyteller. Englishman Walter Hatch built the original structure in 1647. Ownership passed through 9 or 10 generations of Hatches until 1965, when it left Hatch hands and Messer's parents bought the house. Thus is the author linked to her subject.

She alternates between her own family's history and that of the Hatches, tracing both the fate of the individuals and the imprint each left on the house. There are additions, renovations, fires and restorations. Relatives move away and others come back. Time passes, and the Red House outlives all of its inhabitants. And all along the underlying question is: Whose house is it, really?

"The house contains both the living and the dead, and there are always traces, because the house is not separate, has not one owner but many, has many beams, many different panes of glass, the way a body might have many lovers, the way each owner might look at the house as if at the body of a lover. If the window is removed, is it still a part of the house? If the fireplace swing-arm is taken and put in a museum, is it no longer a part of the house? Can the house be removed from itself? The owner, the past, the parts of the house. I thought: Who can steal a house? Who owns the lover but the loved?" (p. 234)

This reader cannot help but be reminded of a farmhouse in her own past: one that's been in her family since 1915 and might not survive the decade with that surname on the mailbox. But that's a story for another day.

To delve into this fascinating book is to relive the cultural and coastal history of the Bay State through the lives of one extended family, and to further ponder one's own footprint left on the earth. Highly recommended for all who know of such homes and who want not only to restore and remember them, but to also know intimately the souls who once spent (and perhaps STILL spend) time there.

The Red House is the oldest continuously lived in house in New England. It was built by Walter Hatch in 1646. When he died, he left a will sayaing that the house could never be sold. It was to be passed down from generation to generation. It was, for over 300 years, until 1965 when Sarah Messer's parents bought the house. The author alternates between telling early history of the house and her own family's history. She does this only marginallly successfully. The historical stories of the house are interesting, her family's stories are not. Some of the family stories are relevant and relate to the house, but then others seemed to be tossed in for no apparent reason.

At one point, the author describes one of her boyfriends: "He smelled like geraniums, screen doors, metal screws. Once, while walking, he grabbed a handful of apple petals and stuffed them into a tree. "There, this is you," he said."

Snippets and memories like this are tossed in amongst the house's story. It is jarring, and I found myself reading over them quickly, except some of them are just so odd, like the one above, that I tried to figure out the reasoning for including them.

I'm giving this 3 stars based on the parts having to do with the house, the rest would get zero to one stars.

This book is beautifully written and in many places, it reads like poetry. Having come from Scituate, Massachusetts myself I know how accurate her descriptions of old houses are (I do not know the author). She has a true feel for the early period of this country and what life was like at that time. Mr. Murena (another reviewer) you are wrong. Ice did actually form in water bowls even in rooms with fireplaces if they were placed at the opposite end of the room. This is documented as fact by people living in early American homes in New England even into the 19th century. It's true that forks were in use in England by 1608 by the very privileged Mr. Murena, but they were not in use in early America until much, much later. Especially not by the early settlers. So she got that right too. Check your facts, she did.

So back to the book. It's a wonderful read. I couldn't put it down and finished it in one night. Her descriptions of the early overgrown road behind the house is just like one that ran behind our house in Scituate. The book evokes accurate images of the past in wonderful detail. She alternates the story of the Hatch family, who originally built and lived in the house, with the story of her own family. The house is fascinating enough on its own, but the families are what gives it life. It even has a ghost or two. What more could any reader want. I strongly recommend this book. I intend to read it again.

Paula Higgins

I enjoyed this book on several levels. First, a disclaimer, I'm a friend of the author's sister. So the book was interesting from that perspective. But I loved reading about the generations of the Hatch family as well as the impact of living in a centuries old house on the Messers. Anyone who has a relationship with a house which goes beyond the mere structure can relate to this story of emotional attachment to the building known as home. And Sarah Messer's poetic talents are evident in the beauty of the prose.

I started to read this book on a Saturday and invented excuses on Sunday so that I could stay at home and finish it. It will definitely merit a place on my shelf of favorites. The intertwining of the story of the house and the story of the Messer family is masterful, and the writing itself is so flowing that you just can't stop at the end of each chapter. I highly recommend this book to anyone with a love of New England history, old houses or just a good story!

I picked this book up at a discount bookstore because the cover caught my eye--what a beautiful photo. And since I had enjoyed "The Big House" by George Howe Colt, and he gave this book a two-sentence positive blurb (top of front cover), I was excited to dive in. I wish I could say I enjoyed it. I kept thinking, what is the point that the author is trying to make? Is she trying to be a detective and figure out some mysteries about the old house? If so, she never comes to a conclusion. Is she trying to paint a portrait of her parents' blended family? If so, she leaves many gaping holes. She meanders, goes off on tangents, until I began to think that she must have had a good title/topic, but didn't know what to do with it. She spent six years researching material, which makes me feel even worse that I did not appreciate the results. I almost quit about 2/3 through, but pressed on, thinking she must be going to tie all the threads together at the end. Unfortunately, she just kind of peters out. Conclusion: very interesting premise for a book, but mission not accomplished.

Loved this book. Sometimes I got a little lost, but the imagery was so vivid I could imagine being in that house and with those families throughout. Highly recommend to someone who loves historic colonial homes and Old New England.

This is a wonderful book down memory lane as I once lived in Marshfield. But it could be anywhere in New Enland. It's funny and poignant, historical fact, and so very interesting to read.

You have to love old houses to live in one. This was an impossible to put down book written by an old house lover, a caretaker of history. Having lived in a 200+ year old house, I can truly understand wanting to know who lived there before you and what transpired in their lives. Ghosts or no, the spirits of past residents permiate the entire house. What did they see when they looked out this very window that you are now looking out? What happened in the rooms, how did they live in this house over the generations? Sarah Messer did a remarkable job of bringing the Red House's history to the reader and intermingling it with her own family's lives in the house. Loved the book, couldn't put it down. Ms. Messer did a remarkable job in the telling of the story.

I started this book a few years ago, and never finished it. Forgive me if don't quite recall the details of the book. I do remember

the disgust I felt as I read it. I was prepared to love this book, but found it weird and offensive. The author describes a family so obsessed

with purchasing old New England family cred that, after moving into their new old home, they frame and display photos and documents related to

the family who built the house, and the "writer" brags that these are hung instead of her own family's photos.

She proceeds to almost burn the house down, destroying kitchen, which is the oldest part of the house. Some people have an intense love for the old and historical. They want to care for it and preserve it. Messer express no regret about the fire that did irreparable damage, as if it's just another "gee, guess what crazy thing happened next!" story. The creepiest scene is the one in which the last heir to the house that could "never be sold" from the family shows up on the lawn to wail "it was a mistake!" and to beg for a chance to buy his family's house back. The new family ignores the man until he goes away. Messer seems untouched by this episode, relating it with almost a "huh, willya look at that?" kind of air.

Pocket of gold, heart of stone.