It's just a house, right? Houses can't hurt. Houses can't bleed.
But this house wants you to.
When the Waite family moves into their new home, they don't bargain on being unwanted guests. But this house has deep-rooted, blood soaked history, and it's angry. This Thing is Starving is an unflinchingly feminist love letter to the abused, bursting with feminine rage and told from the perspective of a haunted house.
Isobel Aislin published their first book at age 16 and promptly said they'd never do that again. They proceeded to prove this to be a lie three times under another pen name.
After uprooting their entire life moving from one coast of the United States to the other, they decided to start a new chapter. Inspired from survival horror games and her psychology/criminal justice studies, Aislin examines themes personal to their traumatic upbringing through the psychological horror and suspense genres.
This story destroyed me; very few books have left me with a "book hangover," but this one definitely did. I love the point of view of the house, not wanting change but becoming protective of this family. How the house has seen, felt, and even loved over many eras, and it still hopes it can guide the future. The stories that make the house what it is are heartbreaking and real and makes you understand why the house thinks the way it does. I did not want this to end but look forward to devouring anything this author writes. Her heart really comes through the page.
What if a house could absorb the personalities of people who died there? It feels like a haunted house right? This Thing is Starving is that, but also so much more! This book oozes grief horror, feminine rage, desperation, revenge, all infused with so much love, misplaced at times but love nonetheless.
It is a haunted story, but like never I've read before, and executed with such mastery that I breathed and truly lived all of the house's lives at the same time as they appeared in the book. The characters are all damaged in one way or another and I found fascinating how there was a dual relationship between the house and its many inhabitants. How the house was attracted to them and at the same time, how these particular characters were drawn to the house. I found myself seething with rage often, stricken by the events happening and by the inner turmoil of both the house and its inhabitants.
I'd say this is a complex book, but also easy at the same time (so many of us, sadly, know very well these same dreadful events), and if I had to summarise it in a few words, I'd say it's a collective coming of age where different aspects of grief, rage and perpetuating of the same mistakes are resolved through a peculiar therapeutic session. And the house is not only the focal point as the place where all this happens but also the reason why it happens.
There's no doubt I'm in love with this story, with all its wronged and "wrong" personalities and horrific events! It is a hard book but very therapeutic that left me with a lot of food for thought. I found the concept of the house as an additional character with its point of view and feelings so fascinating, and I can't wait to delve into more works from this author!
Thanks to the author for a copy and this is my honest opinion.
This work begins with some extremely confronting statistics regarding the current rates of violence against women (VAW), so you know it’s not going to be a comfortable read from the get-go. The first two thirds of this pretty unique twist on a haunted house story is reminiscent of Helen Oyeyemi’s work, particularly ‘White Is For Witching’ – it is lyrical, powerful, and fully immerses you in the frustration and rage of the (primarily) female protagonists, all of whom are treated badly by men. The queer representation and description of the emotional impacts of being targeted by men for simply daring to exist is second to none, and it is also a well-paced read despite quite a lot of time shifts, and some choppiness with these, and quite a few introspective passages. Unfortunately, the last third of the book appears to change gear somewhat with a ‘reveal’ that seems a bit unnecessary, and it quickly slips into more ‘conventional’ YA horror, as a result. I can see that the author is passionate about raising awareness of VAW and queer issues – it is very clear in this story that they know these subjects intimately, and it is very important work that they are doing by shining a light on them – but although I did care about the characters to some degree, the concept of the house ‘feeding’ off rage was not explained as well as it could have been, and felt like it ran out of steam towards the end to the point where I now cannot remember the ending despite only finishing it a few days ago. I had the same issue with David Mitchell’s ‘Slade House’, though, so the author is in good company! Overall, this is a strong debut from this author which certainly adds to the conversations that we should all be having about how we treat more than half the world’s population.
This book is so good. I usually read horror and things that are much darker than this, but this book truly sucked me in from the beginning. I love everything about it, the characters, the atmosphere, and the way the story unfolds. It's a masterpiece.
Thank you to the author, Isobel Aislin, for this ARC. This is an honest review. First, I feel the book requires some forewarning about the intense topics that are covered, which include misogyny, violence against women, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Also, I am not sure I would count this as a typical horror novel. We see the generational harm to women through the eyes and lives of the house as well as the women who still live or are trapped within its walls. I am not sure how else to categorize the book, since the house, which is semi-sentient at times, is the narrator of the tale, and the shades that co-exist as the house definitely haunt the inhabitants and terrorize any visitors it/they can. So, while not what most would expect from a horror novel, it is a horrific tale of generations of harm done to women, all seen and overseen by this particular house. The feelings of those women are collected and coalesced across the years into rage.
We meet Lillian, who, during prohibition, helped her husband run a secret underground speakeasy in their hidden basement room. Lillian became the first shade to take up residence of the house. Her rage fuels most of the house’s anger, but the other women are able to exert some control over her, sometimes. Her rage, however, sometimes seeps through when the house is a witness to mistreatment of women. This happens to Kay, who we meet in the story. She leaves her mark on/in the house– These women led complicated and difficult lives that had no road to peace. After decades of history and multiple women, a new family moves in and the house wakes up to intruders. The family – a mom, teenage, adopted daughter, twin sons, and young daughter – is noisy and unwelcome. The house is not happy until it senses something in the teenager, Veronica. We follow the slow destruction of this family, watching how horrible things keep happening to the women, and even the young daughter. We also watch Veronica find her strength and begin to fight back and stand on her own against the rage. In this story of horror, we also see a story of growth – one where Veronica finds her way through the darkness.
~This was given to me as an ARC read under the conditions that post my honest review on GR. I'll do my best to tag spoilers.~
The only thing that kept me from devouring this book in one caffeine-feuled-obsessive-all-nighter was life responsibilities (gross).
"You can’t erase me, something thinks back. I never left."
I'm nearly speechless after finishing this masterpiece of a book. It was the pinnacle of feminine rage wrapped into a creative take on horror and haunted houses and I was here for it every fucking step of the way. I could feel the anger and bitterness and resentment seeping off the paper(my phone screen) and it left me ravenous for the next page.
The writing style was gorgeous. I wish I had words as pretty as the prose to describe how engaging and fantastic it was. It was the absolute epitome of showing not telling and I felt so captured in the world (lol captured.. like the spirits in the house? get it?). . The vignettes at the beginning of each part to introduce another aspect of the haunting were hauntingly(lol) beautiful, and I sat there and reread them multiple times just to get goosebumps over and over again. There were also slight formatting changes at some points to punctuate certain passages and I'm a sucker for those.
The tone shifted a lot towards the end and it threw me off a bit and it certainly wasn't enough to detract from my overall obsession with this book. There were some things left unresolved but I think that it adds to the overarching message of the story.
I wasn't even finished reading this and I was shoving it down my friend's throats to read when it publishes. I want a hardcopy of this book to place on my trophy shelf of my favorite reads to admire daily. Easily one of my top reads of 2024.
ETA: the inclusivity in this book was *chef's kiss*
Many moments that occur within the confines of a house are kept private but what occurs when a house is able to interact with living beings in response to those moments is explored in This Thing is Starving by Isobel Aislin.
The Waite family has moved into a new home, one that has a reputation for being haunted, as they endeavor to escape the horrors haunting their own lives, but little would they expect that the house views them as unwanted guests; however, the teenage daughter, Veronica, captures the attention and fascination of the house and it begins to follow her movements and emotional state as she settles in, becoming invested in her wellbeing. As the house follows Veronica’s life moments it causes the house to remember those who passed through it in previous decades, recalling the unfortunate events that took place both within their lives and within the house’s walls. In seeking to obtain a level of peace and security for her and her family, Veronica uncovers long-kept secrets of the house’s dark and brutal history that, though startling, could prove to be a means to have a happier future.
A narrative told from the unique perspective of the house unfolds with a palpable, visceral rage emanating from each page as the catalog of horrors that befell the characters is revealed; depicting the traumatic experiences of the various characters across different decades and situations of finding themselves, their suffering is combined to become a larger entity in the form of the house, which presents an opportunity for the victims who endured terrors at the hands of others to exact revenge against perpetrators of unspeakable acts. Skillfully and powerfully detailing a seemingly perpetual cycle of violence and power in the hands of men used against women at the heart of interactions that have shaped and drive the dead, and living, inhabiting the house to seek vengeance for the wrongs done to them and others, the story presents a hopeful break in the cycle and a chance for a modicum of peace, however restricted by the frustrating limitations of the contemporary justice system, offering a respite from the repetitive fury that each generation has inherited to face, tempering the general tone of boiling anger to a simmer with a dash of optimism.
Overall, I’d give it a 4.5 out of 5 stars.
*I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.
Some novels consciously take readers to familiar ground, tapping into the aesthetic pathways carved by other works and trusting that similar notes will engender favor. They summon familiar hallmarks to put readers at ease, draw them in, and hope whatever they ultimately do is just unique enough to ride those waves through to the end. It’s the reason modern writers so frequently revisit archetypal settings popularized by Poe, King, Jackson, etc. and why novels which don’t do this are–when everything else is right–breakouts.
This Thing is Starving opens with a haunted house that looks exactly like the one you’re already picturing: it has a large front porch, wide, stately windows–one of which will be at the attic level–and the entire vision is likely devoid of memorable color. The structure is a touch oversized, a bit ramshackle, and there’s a long, dark history of which perhaps only the most recent chapter is shared with the people who are coming through its front door.
They aren’t unfamiliar either: there’s a mother that we know is on her own from the practiced way she makes split-second assessments of each child before giving a moment to her own thoughts. You can see her gauging reactions of the new home, but letting them each go in short order, as this woman is foremost tired and her next much-needed rest might be just ahead. She is a single mother trying to get away from someone, and that flight has led her to the one place she can afford which can give her family refuge: a haunted house.
This is not a comfortable read and this isn’t solely due to the horror aspect of the house, which is disconcerting enough, but it really represents the emotional and physical abuse of women by men. The whole reason the family move into this house is that they are fleeing from their mother’s abusive partner and ultimately hiding. One of the most uncomfortable things to read was regarding Veronica’s new boyfriend and his subtle attempts to manipulate her into sex and what happens when she says no. There is also a lot of LGBTQ+ representation in this, especially regarding the trauma and abuse that people who are perceived to be ‘abnormal’ in the narrative are horrifically treated by the men in their lives.
I loved that the viewpoint we get is only from the houses perspective, we never get character POV’s. And that adds so much dimension to it, also while being unable to reach beyond the houses boundaries to whatever is going on outside of its walls. It has to watch and wait. The house isn’t what you would call a bad house only capable of destruction or annihilation, it has such protectiveness over Veronica and women in general against abusive men.
The ending for me is where it fell down and why it just didn’t get over the line for a 5 star read. I felt it leaned way too much on the traditional horror movie endings where through-out the book it has been so unique. Everything was wrapped up in a neat little bow regarding the house and those who dwell within its soul. But for all that the living characters go through, there is no therapy or ramifications for the actions of some individuals which is incredibly frustrating as it was such a big plot point.
I got this as an ARC last year and just didn’t get around to it before it was published in November. I was determined to read it in January but when I tried to download it to my kindle it was corrupted. It being so late I didn’t feel that I could go to the author and ask to send it again so I went on Amazon and bought it, serves me right for not doing it on time.
This book oozes talent, rage, and trauma, not always in that order. Brimming with originality, a deep sense of the horrific, and with some serious nods to Hereditary, it blends queer horror with themes of domestic abuse, ending up (rather unexpectedly!) in territory reminiscent of Insidious. The author's portrayal of a haunted house from the house's perspective may not be unique, may not even be a fair description (since the house is haunted, not possessed); it's so well-done, however, that it reaches levels of unprecedented subtlety, transforming into something new and immensely satisfying. Aislin doesn't waste any time trying to creep you out, unsettle and disturb you, be it with atmosphere, imagery or straightforward violent scenes. Psychological horror is embedded deeply into the supernatural, making it impossible to separate the two, though family issues are presented up front, nothing is hidden. The plot has lots of twists, lots of revelations, making use of flashbacks, diary entries, parallel narration and other non-formulaic means to convey both terror and frustration towards gender-based injustices. Trying to talk about the intricate picture evolving before the readers' eyes, either without spoilers or without oneself taking a position, is not easy. Overall, an intense and compelling haunted house read, with several memorable novelties!
Wow! This Thing is Starving by Isobel Aislin is intense. The prose flows perfectly and the imagery is so vivid. There are a lot of timelines and characters that move in and out of the story, but the way Aislin balances them all is masterful.
Even though the themes (abuse/rape/murder of women, along with looking at transexuals, asexuals, lesbianism, feminism, and the rage that women have but are not allowed to express, to name a few) are very heavy, they are all ones that should be looked at and no one should be afraid to discuss them.
I read and watch a lot of horror and suspense, and I will admit there were times that I had to put the book down for a bit because I was getting overwhelmed by the emotions in the story, and myself. But I felt myself caring for the various characters very early on, so I wanted to keep reading to find out what had happened, and would happen, to them.
The way Aislin turned the classic haunted house story into a slightly different version where the reader gets to feel what the house feels and has gone through, was another layer to this book that made it feel fresh. I was concerned it would turn goofy or repetitive, but it worked so well to make the house into another main character.
I highly recommend this book to everyone, and I could see Women’s Studies courses or book clubs finding lots to discuss about This Thing is Starving.
I have always wondered if normal items could absorb our energy and hold memories of things that happened. This was a great take on that. This story was about a haunted house, but from the houses point of view.. The people that came and went, the events that happened there, the emotions that were felt, the traumas that were experienced. All absorbed into its walls. The writing style is a little more complex than what I'm used to, so it took me a little time to adjust to it. But it was beautiful none the less. The story did have some dark themes throughout and gave me the chills at times, but that's what captivated me. It kept me wanting to keep reading and to know more. It also had some parts that were a bit gruesome, but nothing unbearable. The characters were great and the plot was very well written and made the story very enjoyable. Definintely give this a read.
This book.... just, wow! I was gifted it as an ARC read by the author Isobel Aislin. It's just a house... only it's not. It's so much more. It was so much more.. it wants revenge. This story was dark and a bit disturbing. It speaks on how the double-standards of mens' views of women. How a mans' rage or impotence can lead to the death of a woman, so quick the change of charming and sweet to volatile and ruthless. It is told from the POV of the house. Of the spirits of the women ripped from this world. The ones taken by the hands of men they trusted, and ones lead there by the actions of men they loved. This story is also about found family, about adoption. It has triggers of rape, incest and abuse. So be warned, this is not for the faint of heart.
I was intrigued from the first moment I received the review request. A horror story told from the perspective of a house? It sounded intriguing.
The story immediately drew me in and I love that even though it is a house telling most of the story, you can feel the pain of past tenants and witness the abuses that the house has witnessed.
it's a fascinating story and it's fun to see how the house starts to care for the family inside and wants to protect Veronica the teenager especially. It's got some good horror themes and vibes, and some gruesome parts (as well as TW's) but it's a well-written story with an inside look at trauma and how it can carry across generations.
I received this book as an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
One of my favorite sub-genres of horror is haunted houses. This book was beyond what I could have imagined. This house had stories to tell. Each story encapsulated how the house corralled all emotion into what the house wanted to let out. I enjoyed reading how all the people who lived in this house, left behind strong emotions. I could feel the agony of the house. I could empathize with each person that happened upon this house. I especially liked how the stories all accumulated into an ending that gave closure to all those involved.
Wow, this book made me feel so many emotions. After so many tragic incidents, the house seems to have come alive somehow. Honestly, I can't imagine what this would have been for the family living there. Veronica, the oldest of the kids in the Waite family, must take over childcare after her mom breaks down and retreats. Throughout the story, she struggles to deal with things from her past and tries to be there for her younger siblings.
Please be aware that this book deals with some heavy subjects and may be triggering to some.
A horror story told from the perspective of a house, A hunted house story like nothing you will ever read It was so interesting and gripping. The house tells you a tale of pain, anger, rage, bitterness, grief, resentment, love, desperation, revenge and so much more. It feeling it has felt and see are dripping off pages of this book making you feel so much. I really don’t have words you have to read this for your self.