The book starts out as discussion of Freud's essay of the same name and then spins out into separate chapters on a range of "uncanny" subjects. At times this makes the book feel like a random assortment of essays in search of thematic coherence. Having said that some of the chapters are very good: the one on teaching as an uncanny activity is almost worth the price of admission.
However, the book is written under the sign of Derrida, who seems to be so indispensable to the argument that hardy a chapter seems to pass without him taking centre stage or at least muttering in the wings. The reverence for Derrida may be understandable, but Royle's attempts at Derridean syntax grates after a while.
I feel like saying: I paid money for your book: give me something other than your exercise in vocabulary. But this is trendy new criticism; the critic no longer explains, analyses or defines, nor does he seem to have any kind of obligation to the reader, he doesn't even seem to hold an opinion on the subject which he wants to expound to the reader. No, the critic performs his subject. One writes uncannily to explore the uncanny, so some of the chapters are fiction, and not very good fiction, dressed up as something between a story and an essay and a something else.
And while blurring the boundaries between literature and philosophy and criticism may well be theoretically fashionable, the results are a horrible neither/nor. At times the book wanders off into no man's land.
Perhaps its an academic trend, but it would be nice once in a blue moon to read a critic who had something to say and was interested in conveying it. The idea that theory somehow supersedes literature, or that reading Derrida is like reading poetry only better, is simply not true: a truth this book performs.
A fair question might be: Will you have a better understanding of either Freud's essay or "The Uncanny".
And the answer is probably yes.
Then again....maybe not.