Chantel's Reviews > Small Town Horror

** spoiler alert ** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on violent crime, the death of an animal, grief, the death of a loved one, body mutilation, substance abuse, & others.

Oh, the rumble of the familiar road. Some form of resemblance to the life once known, a twinge of the dimple engraved in the hollowed false smile, lies the dawn of reparation; the final layer of the beast that is regret. Who is to judge that which causes harm to the wishing & washing of casual daydreams? Sometimes, the ghoul itself will raise its head in a pulsating threat, staring down the reflection it finds in the mirror.

Seldom is more terrifying than that which is comprehensible, attainable, & proximate to the reader. I have stated before that the scariest story is one that reminds the reader of themselves & I remain convinced of this fact after finishing Malfi’s most recent novel.

It is certainly the fangs of reality, those able to pierce the security one pretends to have in this life, that creep & crawl through the mind long after the immortal bat has taken flight. You will find that I repeat myself & that is only to reinforce my point. Readers familiar with my reviews will have heard me praise Malfi before. What you shall read in this review will be nothing new though, my experience with this story adopted new edges & saw me invested without shedding my annoyance, only to leave me surprised that I had come to the conclusion I accepted at the start.

In essence, this is a story about regret. Andrew, the main character, is thirty-five & is living a life he is proud to have achieved. The borderline trite nature of his experiences in Manhattan is cooling to the touch; the lawyer, his wife—the editor, their soon-to-be-born first child, the life of luxury all stemming from the humble beginnings in a town whose name no one knows but which is familiar to readers like a collector’s coin they’ve hidden in the attic.

Andrew returns to his hometown to meet his four friends. Though they have not kept in contact & though it has been, cumulatively twenty years since they engaged in any friendly activity, Andrew returns to engage in his trade in keeping one of his friends out of jail. The rest, as they say, is history.

When I was young, I was quite certain that Horror was not the genre for me, therefore, I distanced myself from the garish covers & tomes lining the shelves of the libraries I frequented. I had enough to deal with, I did not need a reminder of the threat I knew by name. As the years passed, something like comfort grew in me as I poured over books that spoke to me through the pages; the experiences I sheltered, secretly pleading to disappear, transcribed gently via the time-stamped ink of a total stranger, allowed me reprieve. The transition between these two realities was rather more seamless than I am detailing. It never ceases to astound me that the wide world with all its rivers, oceans, mountains, molehills, & prairies, can be so very small as to fit compactly within the binds of a book.

I highlight this personal experience because this story brought me back to the feelings I had towards those early novels. I often wondered why the truth was never spoken or why a character’s guilt allowed them to evade the claws of self-decomposing despair. The convenient ending felt too quaint & I pondered the nature of concluding a story that covets reality with the magical dreamland bonbons of forgiveness & tender healing.

You may think me a pessimist & you may not be entirely wrong. However, this question persisted. It was through many years of life & a gargantuan pile of books that I concluded that the age-old adage was indeed accurate; the sun does, in fact, shine bright & clearest on the unperturbed landscape. Where does that leave the veteran reader?

When coming upon this book, my immediate sentiment was, thrill. After reading “Black Mouth” (2022) by Malfi, I was a fan for life, regardless of whether his books ever impacted me so deeply, ever again. Readers will find in the repertoire of stories that the author crafts the ease of a storyteller’s gift. Certainly, there are plots that pivot the gaze of marvel & in some others, the Leviathan itself seethes through the veins of a foul tale. It is a gift to tell a story; it is a delicate talent to transmit it to others. I would not say that the main character of this story had such talent though, he had little choice but to share or hold his peace, forever.

This is an interesting story & one that devoted readers will clock as the ode to the Titan’s great work, “Ghost Story” (1979) by Peter Straub. Should a reader not have had the opportunity to read about the jaundiced demons intent on revenge, this story will still offer them a sliver of flavour to masticate on, unique in its succulence.

The witching aspect of this story gave me pause. Following everything I’ve said, one would be right to assume that I had a complicated relationship with this story. The opening chapters reminded me so deeply of Straub’s work that I forgave them for the meandering dialogue. I wasn’t necessarily reading because I was invested in Andrew’s personal life or because he may prove to be insightful. Rather, I read this book because I love the sentiment of fear—the most intimate of emotions. The weaving nature of the terror that loomed behind the everyday grief—consequences of a series of horrible decisions—was not something I welcomed.

The Graves family & their history was interesting. I was not seeking a story that would include earnest witchcraft, spells, or ghoulish old women on a murder rampage but, that is what the author has written. My insecurity towards my feelings began to develop early in my reading. At times, I grew hopeful that the plot would be the double-entendre; the morbid nature of a mind that does not rest & the fabulously mystical Grimm Brother’s antagonist in her cottage. Certainly, readers who do not mind one or the other, or even both, will delight. I, on the other hand, found myself conflicted.

Though I appreciated the nature of a real-life villain, one that was always around & one that felt rather quaintly placed in reality, one asks oneself in actually, who it is that is rioting against the cause for colonialism & gentrification? Who can be rooted for? My personal sentiments about the mystique of the old Graves woman did not leave me with unease but, a sulking frown.

Do not mistake me, Malfi paced his story well & the villain was ripe with reason, she was a vigilante whose goal was to murder those who violently killed her child twenty years ago. I understand her plight. While reading about their torment of Robert Graves I too found my sympathy waning. The group of friends vandalized the Graves house, nearly setting it on fire, then shot a firework through Robert Graves' eye socket, leaving him to drown after shooting off the side of a cliff. Is a reader meant to root for these characters?

In some sense, I believe that Malfi played on my secret desire to read a story that did not offer a calming ending. The characters did not experience reprieve & rather, their tar tore each other apart, leaving one after the other for the vultures to devour.

Will readers believe that each character was treated with the consequence, torment, guilt, & terror that they deserved? I cannot say that I feel that each member of the group received what they merited. In the original situation, wherein Robert Graves was murdered by negligence, assault & battery, not every member of the group acted in an equal fashion.

Here the reader may need to call upon their mature experiences to deconstruct the setting. An innocent life was taken because a group of teenagers were spoilt, deeply ignorant of how closely death walks in step with each of us, & they held a deep inability to gauge the legal consequences of manslaughter.

Tig did not pay for the death of Robert Graves. She grovelled for forgiveness & was set free whereas Andrew was left in a coma following a car crash. Meach was murdered by Eric, & Dale was murdered by Eric; can these be considered as penance paid or, the easy way out?

What was it that the Graves Witch wished to inflict? If one is pondering her motive to act twenty years after Robert’s death it may be as simple as her knowing that her time is nearing a close or, perhaps she has seen how well the lives of those responsible have become & felt it her calling to act now, though, this is not altogether true since Tig is experiencing very serious financial insecurity & Meach is suffering from physical illness & addiction. Neither of these characters acted as violently as Eric & Dale—who, in my opinion, are the true antagonists. Though I would not state that Andrew is innocent, I am not sure whether he deserved to be in the cellar of his mind’s horror for the rest of time.

The cowardice that took place across the pages, as was exhibited by each character left me to wonder how this same situation may play out for anyone in real life. The answers one looks for, those that may set us free from the guilt we hold for our actions, are rarely found in this lifetime. Andrew became a shadow of his potential because the people he was close with were responsible for the death of another teenager. Does this make him the evil mastermind? Should he have told Rebecca that he knew what happened to her brother? What is altered by telling the truth?

I found Andrew to be a compelling narrator only because he was so simple. His goal was to escape, no matter the consequences or the toll it took, yet at every turn he made the most ignorantly banal decisions. I found myself curious only because he was so silly. Readers observe Andrew deciding to live in a house that is infested with flies; a house that has a possible sewer leak; a house that is without basic amenities for reasons he never makes clear. What would have led him to be comfortable with living with all of these things, let alone one? It would not have been unusual for him to choose to sleep in his car rather than lay in a bed that was swarming with flies.

Andrew’s senseless behaviour persisted throughout the story. He engaged with Eric who was surely culpable of the First Degree; he sat with Dale as he lied straight to his face; he went back to his hometown knowing how little gumption he held in his person. Why did he do this?

When analyzing the behaviour exhibited by Andrew one may wonder at his reasoning. I suppose it might be as straightforward as to state that he is not a complex person, nor he is very smart, or well-rounded; he’s a man who went to law school & married the sister of a boy he left for dead. The rest is background noise.

Reading about the absurd decisions that Andrew was intent on making left me frustrated. I kept hoping that something more would happen that would leave him shocked & electrocuted to the world around him like a strike from the sky. In some ways, I felt that there was something he was not communicating to the reader, something that left this story wanting altogether. What was the point in all of this? Why did Tig murder Cynthia? Why did she attack her with an ashtray? Tig has worked in a bar her whole life, she would have known, or even seen, the repercussions of an ashtray thrown in anger. Why did Tig lean on Dale & his unspoken love of her to get her off Scott-free while Dale died?

In an ideal world, readers may consume this story & judge the characters for their actions. Readers may wonder why none of the characters made different choices Why did none of the characters go to the police & why did they not tell the truth? Based solely on the cold written word of the law, Dale is to blame for Robert’s death & the others may be tried as accessories to the fact. Had they called for help immediately Robert may have been blind, but it is not a certainty that he would have died due to his injury caused by the firework. Leaving him for dead secured their fate, each character is responsible for his death. Would calling a first responder have prevented any of the events that took place?

Had Eric’s father not been a police officer or the sheriff, I may be inclined to believe that real life would swoop into the story & the group of friends be made to suffer the consequences of a wishy-washy justice system. One could ponder the probabilities all day, my point is that no consideration was given & in their adulthood the characters believed it their right to take justice into their own hands, leaving each other for dead.

My favourite part of this book was the scene in the Motel. By this point in the book, I knew who the cold-blooded killer was & I knew who relied on their self-secured ignorance to wade the tides of criminal activity. I was sure that Rebecca was Robert’s sister & I was sure that the parents of the group, had done what was in their abilities to safeguard their children from the law. What I wanted from this story was for it to spell out how morbid the lives of these characters were. I wanted the narrator to make clear to the reader all of the terrible things that happened leading up to the horror the reader encountered but, it did not offer any of this.

Instead, the Motel allowed readers to ponder the nature of the story they were reading. Is time linear or, did Andrew act as a voice to young Meach? Was Meach’s psychosis as entrenched as his friends believed or was, he suffering the repercussions of untreated addiction? Why was Bonnie sleepwalking? Why did the Graves Witch include Bonnie as a vessel for the torment? How were Bonnie & Cynthia beckoned in sleep to wander the town? Did Eric’s father remain physically abusive or did his behaviour extend into other forms? Why did Eric’s father commit suicide?

Ultimately, I think what made this story enjoyable was the ending. There was no resolution, no happiness, no final hurrah to forgive & live a life worthy of existence. The characters, each in their own way, suffered a fate that they created for themselves.

It is unkind to say that Meach deserved his addiction & it is cruel to say that the innocent life of Robert Graves merited a torturous end. Neither of these individuals were granted freedom for what befell them. I will not sit & write out how much better Meach is now that he is free because I do not know that his soul could rest, floating around a room carved out of the flesh of lies, terror, & sorrow.

The familiarity of this plot spoke softly to the reader, the shadowed carcass of the deceased, the vultures, the shadow man, & burning figure of desecration in the drywall; the paralysis, the nightmares, the loved ones lost, the group's secret, the small town, the stories, the lies. It is up to the reader, depending on the day & the hour, whether they feel that these glimmering notes of an ode sung to the departed whisper a tune worthy of the Serpent himself.

In dreams, the nightmare fuel of walking through rays of sunlight is made clear, cruel, & staunchly vivid, to the suffering soul who has thrown away the key to their salvation. Meriting a second’s glance is the accessory; the sorcerer whose spell is in the living creatures who suffer the magic cast with intent to harm. May the souls of the birds whose necks were snapped & whose bellies sliced open, be free in skies unincumbered by torrential rain & human horror.

Thank you to NetGalley, Titan Books, & Ronald Malfi for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!