(2025 Re-read)
I am so glad I re-read this. I enjoyed it even more this time around, and the things that felt a little clumsy to me, a little didactic, felt less so this time around. Similarly, I think I appreciated the supernatural elements more this time around just as they were instead of wanting something else from them, as I did last time around. I think it is more important than ever for books like this to be read and celebrated, it was an emotional and utterly satisfying (re)read.
(2024 Review)
Andrew Joseph White is not interested in your comfort, as a reader. Let’s get that out of the way right now. His novels, this one included, go right for the jugular. They draw you in and implicate you and liberate you and force you to look at your mind, habits, motivations, and behaviors. I love them for that.
I have so many thoughts, I don’t know how to condense and formulate them for a review. Let’s try, together. It is important to know that this novel skews far more thriller than horror, especially in comparison to his previous two novels. There is a supernatural element, but it is not at the heart of this story, nor my favorite part. If you go in expecting some of the apocalyptic body horror of HFWU or the Victorian, gothic horror of TSBIT then you will be disappointed. If, instead, you are looking for an emotional thriller that is about inherited trauma and violence, class solidarity, and what it means to define and defend your self, home, and family, then you will be ensnared from the first page. This story is graphic and gut-wrenching, but with moments of incredible joy and solidarity, filled with perseverance and hope against all odds.
This is White’s least metaphorical book. There are explorations of socialist ideology/class solidarity, neurodivergence, and queer & trans identity and experience that are very straightforward, and almost didactic at times. White doesn’t give us any fantastical elements to hide behind; there is an immediacy, a refusal to let you look away. Sometimes this felt a little more preachy and a little less interesting than the way similar things were explored in his other novels. I always appreciate the ways genre can let you hyperbolize something to make a salient point more resonant and immediate in our real lives, but while the emotional journey and violence here can be overwhelming at times, there is no hyperbole. So that wasn’t my favorite. But the more I thought about it, after finishing the story, the more I came to appreciate it. Because I am reading this novel as an adult who has already studied a lot of these things. I already am invested in anti-capitalism and class solidarity, I already know a lot about queer experience and visibility and identity, and I have done work studying neurodivergence and disability politics. This is technically a YA novel, and the narrator is a teenager that is overwhelmed with these ideas, they are the super-focused center of his life. It makes sense for there to be an almost didactic feel to the way he explains some of these things. And there is a huge audience who won’t come in with my experiences, and to have a character be so bluntly explaining how even victimizers are victims caught in a web of capitalism and severe wealth inequality can actually be quite powerful. As I read the book I wanted more metaphor and less preaching, but as I contemplate the book I realize there was a huge benefit to the tone, approach, and structure. It was made jagged and sharp on purpose, and I have come to appreciate it.
The character work is, as usual, incredible. I feel invested in not just the protagonist but the whole bevy of ancillary characters, too. I see myself and people I know in them, they feel genuine and personal and complicated. And, importantly, there is growth and change and journey. There were a few small character moments, specifically related to family (and found-family) dynamics that made me literally tear up in public as I was reading this, because they are sometimes overwhelming in their simplicity, in how easy they should and can be but are far too often not. I also thought the plotting and timing was, for the most part, good. The story kept me invested and wanting to keep going the whole time—I devoured this novel in less than two days. Occasionally the plotting was a little stunted feeling, but it was always done for the sake of developing character moments, and so I never felt pulled away or distracted.
There are some things that I didn’t love, which I suppose worth noting. The supernatural element to this story felt like an afterthought. I liked the way it resolved, and the inherent ambiguity even in the resolution (I have already read other reviews that interpreted it differently than me), but it felt like it existed in this weird peripheral place that was frustrating. If the supernatural element had been either more prominent (without changing the resolution) or not there at all, that would have been better. I appreciate the narrative journey it facilitated for our protagonist, so I am glad it was there, I just wish it were more there. Secondly, this story is set in a very specific time and place. I understand why, given there is a family history and legacy that plays a big role in the story. It just felt like locking it to a specific presidency and time period penned it in a little. There is an explicit recognition that the violence experienced exists through bloodlines, spanning hundreds of years, and it isn’t new or unique to a Trump presidency, but still it felt more isolated, and less explosive, then maybe it could have been.
This story is confrontational, and makes no attempt to hide its bloody knuckles or battle scars. While there were some elements that I didn’t love, the intense passion, and compassion, at the center of this story kept me engaged. It was heavy-handed at times, but was doing so in such a way as to always offer an invitation to the reader, wanting you to be a comrade, to work for justice for all oppressed, marginalized, and victimized people. The story was visceral, intimate, and showed a different set of strengths to White’s writing. Even after having been given an eARC to read I have already pre-ordered a physical copy, because I want to make sure there is a copy easily available for my siblings and niblings and friends and even myself to return to, White has given us an immersive experience and I definitely recommend it.
(Rounded up from 4.5 stars)
I want to thank the author, the publisher Peachtree, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.