As an addict and an alcoholic (all cuz I don’t use anymore and have my demonic drinking urges in check doesn’t mean I’m not an addict, I accept that) this book got under my skin. It did so in the best way possible, which seems counterintuitive given the subject matter, but here we are. This is a heavy book, not in page count but in material, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but its message is not only powerful but important.
I find it hard to classify what kind of horror novel this is. I’ve heard/read it described as “grief horror” and in many ways I suppose that’s apt and fitting. As much as this is a horror novel it is a sad story. Never to a degree that I found overwhelming or off putting, but everyone in this book needed a big hug and a shoulder to cry on. Yes, even Lefty. Maybe him most of all. The cast of characters are all shrouded in misery and pain, some of their own doing but mostly from the brutal world they all resided in or the families they were born into.
Body horror, road trip, creature feature, addiction story, all of these and more share the pages of It Eats Your Hunger. It’s as if Trainspotting had a fling with The Thing and then they had to travel home with each other ala Trains Planes and Automobiles, just all shrouded in a drug induced euphoria of nihilism. It was engrossing, engaging, heartbreaking, and most of all it kept me tearing through the punchy chapters with an earnest eagerness to see how it all turned out, even if it was clearly not going anywhere “good”.
Certain qualms I had with the book are inevitable with this style of story, meaning they’re good and expected. An oxymoron, I know, but still. Wanting to know more about the demon/entity is not a feasible thing to hope for given that the monster is, in essence, a culmination of many monsters. Addiction, loss, depression, shitty home life. Who knows where all these things come from, the true root of what is essentially pain and suffering. We just know it exists, it started somewhere and wound up here. Wanting to know what happened to certain characters, to follow them after the events of the book, is just a testament to Murnane’s writing and his ability to create characters I cared about and wanted to spend time with. They aren’t issues with the book, they are positive attributes of a writer that had me fully invested.
That being said, I did find the end to be a bit rushed. I wanted more from Lefty’s POV, the “real” Lefty. I wanted some form of cathartic explosion for him, to understand him as a person more and not a vessel. I wanted the same kind of catharsis for Jersey, and Ren, that delved a little deeper. I felt like we spent so much time with them, so much suffering with them, that I wished we’d gotten more of their inner selves and reckonings and realizations by the books conclusion.
Which does lead me to a curious thought the book stirred in me. There is hope in these pages, there is an understanding of recovery and possibility, which is incredibly important. But, equally important in a different way, no one gets to embrace it or be a part of it (despite the possibility of one character who departs the narrative before the end). It’s an upbeat ending in the sense of that “too-little-too-late” understanding but it’s also a big downer. It posits the theory that if you’re an addict you are doomed no matter what you do or what you try to do or who you try to save or what you realize about yourself or the world. You may find peace, but not while living. That’s heavy and very bleak, and perhaps is where the grief horror tag comes from, but as the addict I am I don’t agree with the notion. Which, admittedly, is perhaps just me in my feelings and taking the ending a little *too* much to heart given my own life and experiences haha.
For this to be Murnane’s first novel is a great achievement. It’s well written. It’s fast paced. It hits hard and hits often. It got under my skin, as I said, but more than that it made me feel. It made me happy and angry. It made me reflect on my own struggles and demons. It made me think and it made me glad to be alive. That’s a lot for a first novel, and for one as dark as this. I’ll be on the lookout for his future works.
4 out of 5 blood splattered bricks for me.
PS: Dennis the Dentist is such an absurdly fucked up, and wildly interesting, character that I wished we got much MUCH more of that fuckin loony tune haha.