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402 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 10, 2025
‘What, then, is the body but a vessel for the mind? Is it right that we should be limited by it? Is it not monstrous to constrain ourselves when there might be another way?’In this surreal and grotesque, conflict-driven literary debut (my mind is boggled by that – how can this be a debut?!), the epistolary novel meets dystopian vampire Body Horror.
‘There was little dignity in suffering, but even less in suffering that was doubted. My mother suffered, and she suffered more so because there was a question mark hanging like the sword of Damocles over the legitimacy of her plight. The doubt of doctors was a poison to her efforts to survive. Every appointment became a battleground when it should have been a relief. The effort to become well again was blocked by the very people who were meant to help her. When doctors don’t believe you, who else can you turn to for help?’The author situates Chronic Fatigue Syndrome as provocation for her vivid and discomfiting exploration of sleep as poison; of tiredness, exhaustion, fatigue, as corruptions of the ideal state of being (‘Sleep, those little slices of death, carving out ever-greater chunks of life’), and of how science, in its attempt to resolve this disproportion in the near future, destroys humanity.
“Is what is natural the same as what is good? Is divergence from a norm unnatural […]?”As readers, we are used to the concept of vampires sleeping during the day and being ‘awakened’ at night, inverting the natural rhythms of our human bodies (one of the reasons we can assign them their place in Horror – they are ‘other’ than the ‘norm’, as Vlad puts it, above). Yet, Elliott’s vampire-aberrations, the Sleepless, enact a further ‘divergence from a norm’, being mutations of human bodies that have been – through the neural chip our protagonist Thea has designed – denied any portion of sleep at all.
[…]
“Tell me, Doctor Chares, where do you draw the line between unnatural science and nature’s monstrosity? How far would you step over it to survive?”
“Do you think that if you sacrifice enough you will find absolution? […] If you hurt yourself enough, deny yourself enough, you might be redeemed for the choices you’ve made?”And if the names Thea (‘goddess’ in Greek) and Vladimir (‘ruler of the world’ in Slavic translation) seem conspicuous, you’d be right in suspecting that the naming of names is a strong theme in the novel: “names have power, even if they aren’t intended to control”, Vladimir says. This cannot help but conjure Genesis, where Adam was given the power to name/control ‘every living thing’ in the Garden of Eden. The nameless aberration we come to know as Vlad is nicknamed by those inside the battlements variously, The Count, Vlad the Impaler, Vladimir, Dracula, Dantès, Drac, “and I believe sometimes Adam”, Thea says. Vlad replies:
“And Adam is Biblical, perhaps? The first of my kind, like the first man?”Symbolic in the most exemplary way, Eden as the backdrop to the birth of humankind is also the setting of ‘the Fall’ of humanity. Thus, Elliott likes to lay her parallels directly, and revels in signifying Garden of Eden imagery with her use of the motifs of incursion and expulsion, and thresholds, in what is essentially a classical siege narrative.
“Yes and no. Adam was Edgar’s suggestion, and I think it was more to do with the Adam of Victor’s labours.”Elliott grabs Shelley’s image of the macabre laboratory and flips it so that her hubristic protagonist is working on post-mortems and tissue or fluid extraction, and the disassembly of her ghastly humanoid mutations, rather than assembly and vivification as per Frankenstein. The ‘Frankenstein’ plot is also back-to-front because Vladimir independently appears and then presents himself for study, surrendering to the examination table himself.
“The child of Frankenstein? Charming.”
“Are you offended?”
[…] “Why should I be offended? It isn’t the child who’s the monster in the story.”
‘[The] act of naming is intimate. It suggests a deep level of care for the one being named, and perhaps a certain level of ownership by the one doing the naming. Parents name their children. Owners name their pets. Scientists occasionally get to name our discoveries. I didn’t want the responsibility of claiming either ownership or care of him, but he’d offered it to me anyway.’His choice of Vladimir signifies him as extremely powerful (‘ruler of the world’), and through inference, extremely cruel (Vlad the Impaler, known for his bloodthirstiness), as well as calling upon associations with imprisonment (Vlad Dracula was held in captivity for over a decade).
‘I’ve always thought of sleep as a form of possession and dreams as a symptom of haunting. Waves of hormones roll through our bodies demanding obedience and unconsciousness, and as we sink beneath their weight our minds replay images and sounds that are beyond our conscious control. In sleep, we might see people long dead, hold conversations with absent friends, walk across landscapes both real and fictional, and wake to find that we never left our beds. Can there be anything more paranormal than that?’The ending leaves you horrifically perplexed, but it has to! The scientists have to be driven mad by what they’ve done – look back to Vladimir’s earlier speech to Thea about redemption; she has to be damned because she has become the embodiment of the medical profession that ignored the suffering of her mother. She has ignored the suffering of the Sleepless. That is, until she can’t ignore it any longer. But that’s all I can say about it without spoilers!
‘Sleep is the thread that binds us to memory, and with it, secures us to ourselves.’Thank you to Angry Robot and NetGalley for the thrill of reading this astonishing debut. It is unlike anything I have read, but if I had to draw comparisons, I would say Private Rites by Julia Armfield and The Memory of Animals by Claire Fuller, and as a Pandemic Novel, the flavour is somewhere in the same variety as Eat the Ones You Love by Sarah Maria Griffin.
"I looked at us and felt joy, and in that joy I was horrified."
"There is a yearning within me, to relinquish control and sink into oblivion. To cease."
"We are all of us victims of our own recollections and servants to what they make of us."