If I am a connoisseur of anything, it is having an unpredicted attraction to stories of the spine-chilling, mysterious variety. A curious relationship, yes, but one I’ve always known. So it was without hesitance, after spying Miss Peregrine’s distinctive cover, that I went forth and removed the novel from the seller’s shelf. Hoping to find a rather eerie tale – filled to the brim with quirky characters and illusive riddles – I ventured into the unknown, turning page by page, only to discover the most unexpected: a story of heart, adoration and curiosity, with just a tad of peculiarity mixed in.
It’s the archetypal hero’s tale. Jacob Portman, your average nonconformist rich kid, seeks a way out, finding his life to be as normal and boring as any. The only solace he finds is in his grandfather’s remarkable stories and collection of haunting antique photographs. Levitating girls. Creators of fire. Invisible men. The weird and unusual. Jacob has never thought much of it, choosing to believe the extraordinary as nothing more than pure hokum. But when tragedy steps in, Jacob discovers it’s more than just fantasy and fable. Desperate for answers, Jacob travels to his grandfather’s childhood home in search for the infamous Miss Peregrine. Will she be able to help him? Or are the secrets she’s keeping more than he could possibly imagine?