(Update: Now available as of 1/13/26!) A 4.5, forested, fanged, flaying, full-tilt, fulminating, formicating (and that’s no misspelling), frenzied, fantastical, feminist and folkloric feat of a fable about individual and community trauma and efforts toward survival, understanding, perseverance, integration, and healing.
Walking a woodsy shortcut between her remote hamlet cottage to her tavern job, protagonist Josie encounters what first appears to be a mutilated and discarded mannequin of a young woman - but isn’t. This grim finding sets off a domino effect of additional traumatic memories and morbid discoveries, both for Josie and throughout her small traditional village with its ancient roots, compelling Josie and others to question their personal and communal history.
Already a survivor of past and recent trauma, and having only recently returned to her childhood home to recover from a violent incident, Josie’s finding in the woods seems to trigger somatic symptoms and vivid sensory hallucinations, in particular a type of tactile hallucination or parathesia known as formication in which one experiences insect-like sensations. But, where is the line between hallucination and delusion, reality and memory? Josie must wrestle with these questions and her condition as she continues to work toward recovery by trying to piece together past mysteries, along the way intersecting with other village characters including an enigmatic cantankerous elder historian and a cottagecore but still very badass tavernkeeper - somewhat like a very dark version of Stardew Valley.
The book lands at the extremely far end of the spectrum of descriptive and visually graphic writing. This is not a subtle book: it’s hyperbolic, maximalist, and excessive, but in the best way. The author’s expressive talents support three exceptional components of the book that help it stand out and make a lasting impression.
First, the book spectacularly portrays a scenic and appropriately atmospheric setting in the Forest of Dean/Wye Valley area in Gloucestershire, southwest England, near the Welsh border. Think: The Dark Crystal, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and Tintern Abbey.
Second, the novel evocatively portrays examples of folkloric traditions still honored in these ancient communities, including ceremonies involving costumes, masques, marches, and effigy burning that represent a melding of pagan and Christian beliefs and rituals about the forces of nature, fate, good and evil, life and death.
Finally, via the formication angle, the book integrates pretty masterful and original, if lurid and a tad abundant, metaphorical exploration of the psychological impacts of complex trauma.
Upon reading this book, I was probably most reminded of one of my absolute favorite novels from last year, Bat Eater and Other Names For Cora Zeng, by Kylie Lee Baker - whom I then discovered has also endorsed this book, along with another favorite author of mine, Rachel Harrison, whose readers may also appreciate this book. I also think this book may appeal to Grady Hendrix fans and could have been written by Grady Hendrix’s punk rock green witch sister, if he had one.
If this book were music, it would be P.J. Harvey? Or Florence and the Machine if she played a solstice concert in hell?
I would be completely remiss if I did not provide a major, if probably obvious, entomophobia alert and the reddest possible flag of a trigger warning for body horror, especially of the insect-related sort. Expect all the multi-legged and winged little visitors. And we aren’t talking a one and done, “OMG, how about that part on page XX” kind of thing: there will be continued and sustained gruesome bug episodes all throughout the whole book. I will say that typically I have limited tolerance for body horror and especially the buggy kind, but I managed to get through it because it was well incorporated overall into the story: the author was clearly committed, creative, and passionate when it came to including this content, but it is grounded in the narrative and themes and not gratuitously done. Other trigger warnings might include sexual assault, abuse, substance use, violence, injury, murder, death, mental health crisis and depression, and self harm.
I will give reassurance that no non-insect animals are harmed in this book. (And there is a dog.) There are so many bugs that some seem bound to be squashed. (But then again, are they even real?!)
This would be a fantastic book club selection and spooky season read (although appropriate for all seasons, since seasonal cycles play a role). And goddess willing they make this into a movie!
And - that cover!! Give that one an award!
My sincere appreciation to the author, Mobius Books, and NetGalley for providing the eARC in exchange for my honest review!