Books Read in 2023: Four-Star Horror Part Two

Why am I writing these posts while sick? Because I am reading about people getting into a Fresh! New! Routine! for the new year, and working out and starting new projects and I already tend to feel bad about myself in January so just working and then dragging myself home to read in bed until I fall asleep with the book on my face is not ideal for my mood. I can do the posts while sitting down with kleenex and my inhaler (and vat of opioid juice) beside me, and stop when I get tired, and I find them soothing to do. That said, I'm not one hundred percent sure I haven't trailed off in the middle of a sentence here, so do let me know. Twice in recent days I have misspelled 'your' as 'you're' *visceral shudder*. That's the fever, right? RIGHT? 

I did finally get back to yoga today. It's pretty cold here and Angus's old bedroom where I do yoga is freezing, but I warmed up once I got going. I felt done in after yoga and showering, but it felt good and my back audibly released at one point. 

Four-Star Horror

Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher. Synopsis from Goodreads: Thornhedge is the tale of a kind-hearted, toad-shaped heroine, a gentle knight, and a mission gone completely sideways. There's a princess trapped in a tower. This isn't her story. Meet Toadling. On the day of her birth, she was stolen from her family by the fairies, but she grew up safe and loved in the warm waters of faerieland. Once an adult though, the fae ask a favor of Toadling: return to the human world and offer a blessing of protection to a newborn child. Simple, right? But nothing with fairies is ever simple. Centuries later, a knight approaches a towering wall of brambles, where the thorns are as thick as your arm and as sharp as swords. He's heard there's a curse here that needs breaking, but it's a curse Toadling will do anything to uphold…

-"The fairy was the greenish-tan color of mushroom stems and her skin bruised blue-black, like mushroom flesh. She had a broad, frog-like face and waterweed hair. She was neither beautiful nor made of malice, as many of the Fair Folk are said to be. Mostly she was fretful and often tired."

-Hi, hello folks, this is totally not a horror novel, just stuck it in to see if you were paying attention, ha ha ha ha sob. I love T. Kingfisher. She writes some great classic horror, but also takes on some traditional forms and subverts them very enjoyably. I always love when someone takes a fairy tale and then writes about someone other than the main character. This is so melancholy and yet hopeful, bitter and yet sweet, and her writing is just so cadenced and charming. 

A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher. Synopsis from Goodreads: A haunting Southern Gothic from an award-winning master of suspense, A House With Good Bones explores the dark, twisted roots lurking just beneath the veneer of a perfect home and family. "Mom seems off." Her brother's words echo in Sam Montgomery's ear as she turns onto the quiet North Carolina street where their mother lives alone. She brushes the thought away as she climbs the front steps. Sam's excited for this rare extended visit, and looking forward to nights with just the two of them, drinking boxed wine, watching murder mystery shows, and guessing who the killer is long before the characters figure it out. But stepping inside, she quickly realizes home isn’t what it used to be. Gone is the warm, cluttered charm her mom is known for; now the walls are painted a sterile white. Her mom jumps at the smallest noises and looks over her shoulder even when she’s the only person in the room. And when Sam steps out back to clear her head, she finds a jar of teeth hidden beneath the magazine-worthy rose bushes, and vultures are circling the garden from above.

So presumably I stacked up the two T. Kingfisher books and then didn't realize one was a different genre. I really enjoyed this. I'm not sure it's actually Southern Gothic, possibly because one genre I like even less than 'Gothic' is probably 'Southern Gothic'.  Southern Gothic with a twist, maybe, but there's too much humour and too much of a modern sensibility for that label to fit. Complicated family dynamics and mother-daughter relationships pair nicely with horror, and that is definitely present. Sam is a wonderful character - the interjections about entomology and her confidence about elements of her personality that traditional women find horrifying are delightful, and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. This has a lighter touch than Kingfisher's other horror books, and sometimes that doesn't really hit the spot for me, but this was well done. 

A Good House for Children by Kate Collins. Synopsis from Goodreads: Once upon a time Orla was: a woman, a painter, a lover. Now she is a mother and a wife, and when her husband Nick suggests that their city apartment has grown too small for their lives, she agrees, in part because she does agree, and in part because she is too tired to think about what she really does want. She agrees again when Nick announces with pride that he has found an antiquated Georgian house on the Dorset cliffs—a good house for children, he says, tons of space and gorgeous grounds. But as the family settles into the mansion—Nick absent all week, commuting to the city for work—Orla finds herself unsettled. She hears voices when no one is around; doors open and close on their own; and her son Sam, who has not spoken in six months, seems to have made an imaginary friend whose motives Orla does not trust. Four decades earlier, Lydia moves into the same house as a live-in nanny to a grieving family. Lydia, too, becomes aware of intangible presences in the large house, and she, like Orla four decades later, becomes increasingly fearful for the safety of the children in her care. But no one in either woman’s life believes the stories that seem fanciful, the stuff of magic and mayhem, sprung from the imaginations of hysterical women who spend too much time in the company of children. Are both families careening towards tragedy? Are Orla and Lydia seeing things that aren’t there? What secrets is the house hiding? 

A feminist gothic tale perfectly suited for the current moment, A Good House for Children combines an atmospheric mystery with resonant themes of motherhood, madness, and the value of a woman’s work.

-"Mornings are a promise, afternoons are a heartbreak. Evenings are sly, and they deliver you into the thin arms of each dark night. But mornings hold such possibility, the tangible weight of better: today will be different. When the evening comes (such dreadful hours), the promise of the day has been broken because nothing is different -- you are still yourself. To return to that, every day, to return to the truth of who and where you are, if more than a person should have to bear."

Feminist gothic now! It's like I don't even read the descriptions of these books! Just kidding, I do, I just ignore them and then complain afterwards if necessary. There was atmosphere to burn here, and plenty of that enraging stuff that comes from women being marooned with the children and having valid concerns and men fucking off on the regular and dismissing all the valid concerns, plus the ones that sound a little less valid because they're about supernatural stuff, whatever, if you think the house is so unhaunted Jeff why don't YOU stay home today? Anyway, this wasn't scare-forward, but the creeping dread was peerless.

The Whistling by Rebecca Netley. Synopsis from Goodreads: Alone in the world, Elspeth Swansome has taken the position of nanny to a family on the remote Scottish island of Skelthsea. Her charge, Mary, is a troubled child. Distracted and secretive, she hasn't uttered a word since the sudden death of her twin, William—just days after their former nanny disappeared. With Mary defiantly silent, Elspeth turns to the islanders. But no one will speak of what happened to William. Just as no one can explain the hypnotic lullabies sung in empty corridors. Nor the strange dolls that appear in abandoned rooms. Nor the faint whistling that comes in the night... As winter draws in and passage to the mainland becomes impossible, Elspeth finds herself trapped. But is this house haunted by the ghosts of the past? Or the secrets of the living?

-"As I entered the hall, Iskar felt different. The resonance of Mary's grief was replaced with something else -- the mute unacceptability of William's life and the acceptance of his death."

-"I was aware of my human weight on the treads, their reassuring firmness, the way my heart beat inside my living chest. The mind, my father had always taught me, was the most unreliable of man's organs. Hearts could fail, kidneys could grow septic, but the brain was capable of further reaches; we trust what we see and hear, but how do we truly justify the conclusions we reach?"

This was an obvious companion read to the previous book - spooky houses on cliffsides above water, just an older time period. In a way it reminded me of a Turn of the Screw that I didn't hate (sorry not sorry Henry James, you know what you did). 

Nestlings by Nat Cassidy. Synopsis from Goodreads: Nat Cassidy is at his razor-sharp best again with his horror novel Nestlings, which harnesses the creeping paranoia of Rosemary's Baby and the urban horror of 'Salem's Lot, set in an exclusive New York City residential building. Ana and Reid need a break. The horrifically complicated birth of their first child has left Ana paralyzed, bitter, and struggling―with mobility, with her relationship with Reid, with resentment for her baby. Reid dismisses disturbing events and Ana’s deep unease and paranoia, but he can't explain the needle-like bite marks on their baby.

-"Remembering that, the craving came on strong. That puncture. That poop. Most people hated needles -- hell, even a lot of junkies hated needles -- but not Bizzie. For Bizzie, every needle felt like a new line separating the past from the present."

A couple with a troubled relationship move into an exclusive New York City residential building, WHAT COULD GO WRONG. What I liked most about this was that Ana was allowed to be a 'bad' mother. She doesn't suffer in silence, and resents the hell out of the baby who is the proximate cause of her disability. This is not un-formulaic, but it's a capable and satisfying iteration, and the ending bucks the trend. There's a place for own voices, but the writing about motherhood is impressive given the author is a man. The afterword, about events in the author's life that inspired the novel, adds a certain poignancy. 

Mister Magic by Kiersten White. Synopsis from Goodreads: Thirty years after a tragic accident shut down production of the classic children’s program Mister Magic, the five surviving cast members have done their best to move on. But just as generations of cultishly devoted fans still cling to the lessons they learned from the show, the cast, known as the Circle of Friends, have spent their lives searching for the happiness they felt while they were on it. The friendship. The feeling of belonging. And the protection of Mister Magic. But with no surviving video of the show, no evidence of who directed or produced it, and no records of who—or what—the beloved host actually was, memories are all the former Circle of Friends has. Then a twist of fate brings the castmates back together at the remote desert filming compound that feels like it’s been waiting for them all this time. Even though they haven’t seen each other for years, they understand one another better than anyone has since.

-"Jenny lets out a strange braying gasp of a laugh. Then she shakes her head and puts her regular smile back on, like pulling an apron over her clothes to protect them."

This was one of those books that I was reading when I got busy, so it felt a little slow-paced in the first half, which it might have been, but it may have just been that I took much longer to read it than I usually do a book of this length. There was a similar theme to a previous book of hers that I read, which makes sense given the afterword. The theme of the possibly-sinister long-ago children's television show is popular in horror, with good reason - it is rich with possibilities. I thought it was quite well done - it was pretty clear generally what was happening, but it wasn't all obvious, and I enjoyed the journey anyway. Characterization was very good, especially Val and Jenny, and the different ways in which childhood trauma manifests in adults. 

Bone Harvest by James Brogden. Synopsis from Goodreads: Struggling with the effects of early-onset dementia, Dennie Keeling now leads a quiet life. Her husband is dead, her children are grown, and her best friend, Sarah, was convicted of murdering her abusive husband. After Sarah's tragic death in prison, Dennie has found solace in her allotment, and all she wants is to be left to tend it in peace. Life remains quiet for twelve years, until three strangers take on a nearby plot and Dennie starts to notice unnatural things. Shadowy figures prowl at night; plants flower well before their time. And then Sarah appears, bringing dire warnings and vanishing after daubing symbols on the walls in Dennie's own blood. Dennie soon realises that she is face to face with an ancient evil - but with her dementia steadily growing worse, who is going to believe her?

I was a bit disappointed at first, because it seemed to give away too much of the 'horror' part in the very long backstory at the beginning of the book. Once I settled into it as more of a sort-of-retro thriller with horror elements, I enjoyed it. Dennie is a great character -I'm always up for a good 'tough older woman doesn't let the bastards grind her down', and the explanation of the gradual corruption of the allotment-holders - and the hold-outs - generates a good tension.

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw. Synopsis from Goodreads: You may think you know how the fairytale goes: a mermaid comes to shore and weds the prince. But what the fables forget is that mermaids have teeth. And now, her daughters have devoured the kingdom and burned it to ashes. On the run, the mermaid is joined by a mysterious plague doctor with a darkness of their own. Deep in the eerie, snow-crusted forest, the pair stumble upon a village of ageless children who thirst for blood, and the three 'saints' who control them. The mermaid and her doctor must embrace the cruellest parts of their true nature if they hope to survive.

-"It was rumored that she had no heart and thus had to steal the king's own organ, that she was a bone-wight, cruel, a lie accoutred in stolen flesh, that she was hungry, bitter, resentful of her spouse's sweet son. It is always interesting to see how often women are described as ravenous when it is the men who, without exception, take without thought of compensation."

-"'My husband was a foolish man. But he understood one thing well.' I move the new oblations in place, thumb stroking across still-warm ventricles. 'For the falling star and the rising ape to meet, the former must first be debased. No myth can remain terrifying when you've seen it broken and beaten, rendered as toothless as an old crone.'"

This was very, very strange. The story, the characters, the vocabulary - I learned the word 'shivelight' (a clear shaft of sunlight piercing or filtering through foliage, probably from Old English, popularized by Gerard Manley Hopkins). It is a bit like a Grimm fairy tale, dark with extra darkness, chunks of black mixed in and tenebrous sprinkles on top. Lots of body horror, a pitiless sensibility, and a weird, ruthless beauty. 

The Ghost Woods by C.J. Cooke. Synopsis from Goodreads: In the midst of the woods stands a house called Lichen Hall. This place is shrouded in folklore—old stories of ghosts, of witches, of a child who was not quite a child. Now the woods are creeping closer, and something has been unleashed. Pearl Gorham arrives in 1965, one of a string of young women sent to Lichen Hall to give birth. And she soon suspects the proprietors are hiding something. Then she meets the mysterious mother and young boy who live in the grounds—and together they begin to unpick the secrets of this place. As the truth comes to the surface and the darkness moves in, Pearl must rethink everything she knew—and risk what she holds most dear.

Atmospheric and sympathetic. A house where unwed mothers are sent to give birth and then have their babies taken away is uniquely situated for horrific emotions and events. Once again, the chief horror element is very of-the-moment (it's almost like the thing they're all writing about is actually happening, omg), but that is by far not the most important part of the story. 

Holly by Stephen King. Synopsis from Goodreads: Stephen King’s Holly marks the triumphant return of beloved King character Holly Gibney. Readers have witnessed Holly’s gradual transformation from a shy (but also brave and ethical) recluse in Mr. Mercedes to Bill Hodges’s partner in Finders Keepers to a full-fledged, smart, and occasionally tough private detective in The Outsider. In King’s new novel, Holly is on her own, and up against a pair of unimaginably depraved and brilliantly disguised adversaries. When Penny Dahl calls the Finders Keepers detective agency hoping for help locating her missing daughter, Holly is reluctant to accept the case. Her partner, Pete, has Covid. Her (very complicated) mother has just died. And Holly is meant to be on leave. But something in Penny Dahl’s desperate voice makes it impossible for Holly to turn her down. Mere blocks from where Bonnie Dahl disappeared live Professors Rodney and Emily Harris. They are the picture of bourgeois respectability: married octogenarians, devoted to each other, and semi-retired lifelong academics. But they are harboring an unholy secret in the basement of their well-kept, book-lined home, one that may be related to Bonnie’s disappearance. And it will prove nearly impossible to discover what they are up to: they are savvy, they are patient, and they are ruthless.

I pre-ordered this to have while I was alone this fall while my husband traveled for work. The cover is gorgeous and I enjoyed having the actual book to read.
This is more thriller than horror, but I love Holly Gibney (a recurring character in recent Stephen King works) and was completely content to follow the plot from both sides, and see how Holly's thought process and determinedly methodical investigation led her to her conclusions.

It was interesting having the story take place mid-pandemic. When people were discussing this at the beginning, I thought 'of course writers will portray the pandemic happening, why wouldn't they?', but then I found it a little jarring. I found it a little weird that people volunteered what brand of vaccine they got, and also surprising that Holly would accept anyone's word that they were vaccinated, with all her other precautions and mild hypochondria. It will be interesting to see how this kind of thing reads as we draw further away from the height of Covid.