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Everybody seems to be familiar with Hep A, B, and C. However, this particular book has a case of Hep P, and it's all because of its main character, Hepzibah Pyncheon. Or, if you like, Hep Z. Bah!What exactly makes Hep P such a "killer"? According to the author, it's her scowl. A frown with a "deadly import" that is apparently mentioned 33 times in the book. But, when I think about it, I probably had an unflattering scowl myself while reading this. So, I can kind of sympathize with old Hep and her wrinkled face.More than anything else, I scowled at the never-ending rambling of the narrator. A significant portion, perhaps 60 - 70 percent of the book, is just prattle. Whole chapters are dedicated to idle thoughts about things like chickens, shafts of light, and physiognomy. The continuous stream of babble, blabber, and jibber-jabber got to me to the point where I resorted to something I'd never done before. I started skimming around the halfway point.It's really too bad that I had to stoop to this way of reading. Because the book and the titular house actually have a great foundation. It's a foundation that was poured over the bones and ghost of the land's owner, who was hanged for witchcraft. His malevolent death brought with it a multi-generational curse on the family of one of Hepzibah's prominent ancestors. This ancestor wasted no time in seizing the dead wizard's land and building a mansion on it. The opening is exquisite, but the plot gets muddled with the endless meandering that follows.There is plenty of beautiful language and old words (like grimalkin, quidnunc, scapegrace) to enjoy in this book. But just be aware from the start that there's nothing really scary about it. A house with so many gables surely has a lot of windows too. And it seems that the spookiness that this story promised at the beginning must have leaked out of one of those windows, while the dullness remained inside.A digression-free version