"The sight of one's own heart is degrading; people are not meant to look inward - that's why they've been given bodies, to hide their souls."

This is a beautifully bizarre book about the end of the world and the awful people who may just be the sole survivors. Shirley Jackson is always wickedly funny, and her wit is particularly sharp here. You really get the feeling that she's relishing writing such despicable, unlikeable characters, and I found them a lot of fun to read about. Mrs Halloran is especially awful - one of the first things we learn about her is that it's highly likely that she murdered her own son in order to inherit the house he left her in his will - and she's delightfully spiteful and manipulative of all those around her. As the final day approaches, things get more tense and unpleasant as members of the group begin to doubt whether or not this is true, and we get a truly brilliant scene where one of them tries to leave. I won't spoil it but chills were zigzagging up and down my spine.

Shirley Jackson loves to terrorise her characters and readers alike, and there were parts of this book that were truly disturbing and chilled me to my core, though I wouldn't say it's in the same vein as The Haunting of Hill House per se. Deliciously funny and dark, The Sundial is a devilish little gem and I loved every second of it.