(Rounded from 3.5)
What an unexpected, dark exploration of desire, identity, and family. Where is the line between desire and the need to devour? This unapologetically queer story wrestles with a lot of heavy questions but doesn’t feel compelled to give any easy, fairy-tale answers.
The world-building and atmosphere are really quite incredible. This small, mountain town that is almost proud of being not-quite-backwards but close, the way generational relationships loom over every interaction, the way it is suffocating and offers a type of completion… it really does serve almost as an additional character in this drama. Everything is measured against the world, the environment, and the legacies and lore that will forever haunt the mountains and the people who live there. Then you add to that a really complicated and heartfelt main character and it feels like the story is constantly playing with fire near a powder keg. Our main character is so full of contradictions, there is such internal struggle, and the way the town, the community, exists around her and her force of will, it is just really compelling to read. The sexual and racial politics, and the way they collide with other social privileges and unspoken pockets of generational power, is like a wonderfully complicated feast, with new flavors emerging with every bite. In additional to a really well-crafted and arresting main character, all of the ancillary characters feel equally genuine and complicated, and I just wanted to spend more time with them. The character work and the world-building, which really go hand-in-hand, serve as a really strong foundation for the story.
Building on that, the story itself is great. The way a monster from myth and superstition forces us to see ourselves in critical and unvarnished ways is really smart. Plus, the idea of a monster feeding on your potential futures is a very conceptual kind of beast, and when you tie that to generational trauma it just seems to be commenting on so many things at once. I will say that I had some reservations in the early parts of the story. When we first meet the monster, or the monstrous presence, and it is still weak, it reminded me very much of the way Venom is portrayed in the contemporary Venom movies, and it just seemed a little goofy and I wasn’t sure where it was going to go. But that was a really effective smokescreen, because it totally lowers your (and the characters’) guards, and so as it gains strength and starts taking over more of the story in more violent and direct ways you are not prepared for it. In addition to that it isn’t exactly fast paced. It isn’t monotonous or slow, there is always some sort of character growth or plot device being explored or maneuvered, but it is going at its own pace, that of a small mountain town during the off-season. I could have done with a little more muscle to the narrative velocity, especially at the beginning, but I never felt bored or weighed down. The writing was always this wonderful mix of sincere, playful, and a little sensual, or coy. It is direct and feels unadorned, but in a good way. Again, it works really well for the story and the setting.
There are so many ideas that come up, it is hard to keep up, a little. There are clear issues of discrimination, both in terms of race and sexual identity, but that is complicated by how certain other markers of privilege can obscure or mediate that discrimination, for some. There are constant questions of power, and who holds it, and what it looks like. Sometimes power is in owning your outsider-ness, but sometimes power is found in letting yourself be absorbed into something bigger than you, a family unit, for instance, sacrificing individuality for the power of the group. What does it mean to have ownership of your self, not just of your emotional states and decisions but also of your potential? When does obsessive longing become destruction, masquerading as affectionate attention? There is an actual supernatural entity at play in this story, it isn’t just an extended metaphor that is playing out in our character’s mind… but also, it kind of is. What kind of monstrous appetites do we all contain? How are they formed and shaped by our family and social ties, or expectations? What is gained and what is lost when we indulge them?
This story has some genuinely frightening moments. The suspense and horror don’t come from scenes of gore or literary jump scares, but from a dark psychological uncertainty. Although I would have appreciated a little bit brisker pacing I thought the characters and world-building were top notch, and the many themes and ideas worked for the story without ever feeling like it was trying to preach. This is especially true because what answers you find at the end are messy, and maybe not be entirely satisfying to everyone, because it is more concerned with getting to know your monstrosity instead of banishing it. It doesn’t give spooky vibes but there is something wildly predatory about it, a dis-ease that is always right under the surface. I had a lot of fun with it once I fell into its rhythm, and I finished it impressed at the choices it made and with a lot to think about.
I want to thank the author, the publisher Grand Central Publishing, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.