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A Pig's View of Heaven by Stephen McQuiggan (12-May-2015) Paperback
There's something in Troughton's Moss that speaks to the people of Ellsford, whispers in their ear, burrows into their minds, like a Brainworm, and tells them what to do. THE MADONNA Twenty years ago it spoke to Paul Cunningham and set the wheels in motion. He brutally murdered, then raped a young woman. A short while later, within the narrow confines of her grave, she gave birth to ... THE CHILD Grown to young adulthood, it moves undetected among the people of Ellsford with only one purpose. THE END TIMES The time has come. The Moss is beginning to give up its dead, sacrifices made in its name throughout the ages. THE CHOSEN ONE Dobson Heather, a child of the Moss himself, has been marked. But is he Ellsford's salvation, or their damnation?
- GenresHorror
Unknown Binding
First published May 1, 2015
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 9, 2015
Small town horror that is relentless in it's brutality and despair. I needed a brain-bleaching after this with something happier--like Jack Ketchum.
The writing was lyrical, clean and skillful. I see big things in store for Stephen Mcquiggan, who wove the story of five friends trapped under the spell of an undefined, hungry darkess, into a satisfying ending that was anything but cliche. Each character was a surprise in their complexity and originality and kept me engaged up until the bittersweet end.
The writing was lyrical, clean and skillful. I see big things in store for Stephen Mcquiggan, who wove the story of five friends trapped under the spell of an undefined, hungry darkess, into a satisfying ending that was anything but cliche. Each character was a surprise in their complexity and originality and kept me engaged up until the bittersweet end.
June 17, 2017
Review: A PIG'S VIEW OF HEAVEN by Stephen McQuiggan
Something exists beneath the swampy Troughton's Moss, something evil, ancient, and very hungry--hungry for blood and flesh, for murder and mutilation. In the village, it can readily find malleable humans to carry out its desires. For its purposes, humans are virtually interchangeable. For no, that's sufficient; but eventually this Something wants to act on its own. A PIG'S VIEW OF HEAVEN is a dark look at evil, within the human heart and without, at deception and illusion, desire and dismay.
Something exists beneath the swampy Troughton's Moss, something evil, ancient, and very hungry--hungry for blood and flesh, for murder and mutilation. In the village, it can readily find malleable humans to carry out its desires. For its purposes, humans are virtually interchangeable. For no, that's sufficient; but eventually this Something wants to act on its own. A PIG'S VIEW OF HEAVEN is a dark look at evil, within the human heart and without, at deception and illusion, desire and dismay.
September 25, 2015
Stephen McQuiggan's A PIG'S VIEW OF HEAVEN could have been a truly great novel. I mean that. And though McQuiggan's creepy tale of murder and destiny may constitute a good book, perhaps even a very good one, it fails to achieve greatness.
In all aspects, save for one, the book rivals early Stephen King and Peter Straub. Here, you'll find the same epic quality to McQuiggan's writing, notwithstanding that the book is set in a small British town, reminiscent of 'SALEMS LOT and GHOST STORY.
(I liked the novel quite a bit but I vacillated between giving it three or four stars when I realized that I liked it far more for its potential than for what was actually on the page. In the end, I decided that "Liked it" was more honest than "Really Liked It" though, had I been only slightly less frustrated by the book, my decision could have easily gone the other way.)
McQuiggan certainly knows his way around language. To make another comparison with better known authors, his prose often rivals Anne Rice, or even later McCammon, only with a more poetic flair. The author has a penchant for metaphor that, surprisingly, isn't at all pretentious. Many writers, especially those who use so-called "elevated" language to create an ersatz sophistication which requires a thesaurus to translate, could glean some valuable and constructive lessons from McQuiggan's prose.
His flair for language is deceptively complex for something that at first appears simple, often reflecting the surrounding events in the story. When he writes,"By the time he reached the pavilion, he was sweating, his breath a tracker dog before him," the reader's visualization is swift and complete. Some of his prose borders on poetic, such as this little gem,"His hand stuck on the steel handle, stealing skin instead of fingerprints." And, in a single evocative sentence that carries so much more meaning than the words alone suggest, McQuiggan writes,"She pushed her daughter along at a dangerous pace, her knuckles swollen and angry from the cold or lack of a wedding ring."
McQuiggan also has a talent for story. He keeps several plot lines going at once to create a story of a prophecy gone bad. There is nothing cliched here; all of his ideas are fresh and new.
McQuiggan's bete noir, on the other hand, is his ability to craft characters. That is not to say that his fictional creations aren't believable; they are. But the author fails to give any of them a distinctive voice and thus, they never emerge from the page as separate personalities. Instead, his characters blend together into groups of "types" such as the Young Men, the Villagers, the Older Women with little to distinguish them from one another.
Given the complexities of the novel's plot, it becomes almost impossible for the reader to remember who is who. In the end, this is a fatal flaw. We don't really know the people and thus, we fail to muster much sympathy for them or to care very much what happens. McQuiggan also makes the very strange and frustrating choice to give several of his characters very similar names, making it even more difficult for the reader to follow the story. By the halfway point, I felt lost and hopelessly mixed up.
Yet there is an awful lot of good writing in the novel, along with some genuinely creepy or highly emotional moments. I recommend it, albeit with a slight hesitation. Some readers are likely to become confused or frustrated and toss it aside, which is a true shame. In any case, McQuiggan is certainly a writer to keep an eye on and, once he masters the craft of creating characters with distinctive voices, I think we'll see some great work out of him. I, for one, am certainly looking forward to it.
In all aspects, save for one, the book rivals early Stephen King and Peter Straub. Here, you'll find the same epic quality to McQuiggan's writing, notwithstanding that the book is set in a small British town, reminiscent of 'SALEMS LOT and GHOST STORY.
(I liked the novel quite a bit but I vacillated between giving it three or four stars when I realized that I liked it far more for its potential than for what was actually on the page. In the end, I decided that "Liked it" was more honest than "Really Liked It" though, had I been only slightly less frustrated by the book, my decision could have easily gone the other way.)
McQuiggan certainly knows his way around language. To make another comparison with better known authors, his prose often rivals Anne Rice, or even later McCammon, only with a more poetic flair. The author has a penchant for metaphor that, surprisingly, isn't at all pretentious. Many writers, especially those who use so-called "elevated" language to create an ersatz sophistication which requires a thesaurus to translate, could glean some valuable and constructive lessons from McQuiggan's prose.
His flair for language is deceptively complex for something that at first appears simple, often reflecting the surrounding events in the story. When he writes,"By the time he reached the pavilion, he was sweating, his breath a tracker dog before him," the reader's visualization is swift and complete. Some of his prose borders on poetic, such as this little gem,"His hand stuck on the steel handle, stealing skin instead of fingerprints." And, in a single evocative sentence that carries so much more meaning than the words alone suggest, McQuiggan writes,"She pushed her daughter along at a dangerous pace, her knuckles swollen and angry from the cold or lack of a wedding ring."
McQuiggan also has a talent for story. He keeps several plot lines going at once to create a story of a prophecy gone bad. There is nothing cliched here; all of his ideas are fresh and new.
McQuiggan's bete noir, on the other hand, is his ability to craft characters. That is not to say that his fictional creations aren't believable; they are. But the author fails to give any of them a distinctive voice and thus, they never emerge from the page as separate personalities. Instead, his characters blend together into groups of "types" such as the Young Men, the Villagers, the Older Women with little to distinguish them from one another.
Given the complexities of the novel's plot, it becomes almost impossible for the reader to remember who is who. In the end, this is a fatal flaw. We don't really know the people and thus, we fail to muster much sympathy for them or to care very much what happens. McQuiggan also makes the very strange and frustrating choice to give several of his characters very similar names, making it even more difficult for the reader to follow the story. By the halfway point, I felt lost and hopelessly mixed up.
Yet there is an awful lot of good writing in the novel, along with some genuinely creepy or highly emotional moments. I recommend it, albeit with a slight hesitation. Some readers are likely to become confused or frustrated and toss it aside, which is a true shame. In any case, McQuiggan is certainly a writer to keep an eye on and, once he masters the craft of creating characters with distinctive voices, I think we'll see some great work out of him. I, for one, am certainly looking forward to it.
May 26, 2015
I couldn't wait to get my hands on this book from the minute I saw the cover and read the description, and it did not disappoint me. This is a dark and twisted tale full of nasty little secrets that are beginning to come to light. Depravity and evil abounds in Troughton's Moss.
July 4, 2018
Irish author McQuiggan's A Pig's View of Heaven is a twisted, albeit flawed, masterpiece of horror writing. I haven't read exquisite prose like this in a long time, a true joy to read. McQuiggan can twist a metaphor with unexpectedly fresh phrasing. The story involves a group of slacker friends in a small Irish town drawn into a web of murder and supernatural secrets. I think. The final third of the book becomes a bit confusing, almost rushed. There are numerous characters, maybe too many, rousting about and it doesn't help that they're referred to by up to three or more names (first, last, nicknames). But these are minor quibbles when the writing is this spectacular. Come for the horror, stay--and savor--the prose. Truly outstanding and recommended.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews