What’s scarier than a haunted house? A haunted home. A place that should be a refuge, safety and comfort, but instead is an all-consuming testament to your deepest fears and insidious traumas. Wendig does a great job at excavating what that home might look like in this painful character study, with metaphoric and metaphysical hauntings doing the same work as the psyche just louder.
The characters are the heart of this story, a group of five misfits that we see through the POVs of two of them, with occasional flashbacks as well. Wendig can’t help but pay homage to King’s Loser’s Club, but these five are all unique and complete and painfully real. We learn about who and how they were as teenagers, the different types of broken homes that stitched them all together, and how one traumatic event eclipsed the overall trauma of their childhoods to separate them, to lead them down the paths of maybe their darkest timelines to the adults we meet them as in the present. The connection and evolution from childhood to adult is really well done, but even more so is how realized the characters feel. None of perfect, not in their villainy nor their victimhood, not in their apathy or their friendship. They are all ruins left to rot under dark skies but trying to find the spare lumber to rebuild themselves, desperate and incomplete but in different ways. Of course, when talking about childhood trauma there are some clichés or expected histories, but none feel trite or contrived. We see this group lose themselves, and go through hell to try and find themselves again.
The world-building is fun, and morbid. The real world of our characters is broken and divided present, not shying to comment on the current political climate. But the place they find themselves about a third of the way into the book, the place their quest takes them, is one where Wendig lets himself indulge in all sorts of dark and twisted ideas, set pieces sometimes elaborate and harrowing in details and sometimes just mentioned in passing, a constantly shifting madhouse of perspective and distortion, and it is a lot of fun. It works as the perfect environment for our characters’ drama to play out, inviting and all-encompassing with just the right amount of detail and shadow to feel both known and menacing. The writing itself is compelling, moving between two characters at a fast clip, balancing internal monologues with description and desperate dialogue. The writing isn’t particularly poetic but our characters are doing a lot of inner work and the writing is willing to be philosophical or melodramatic or terrified as appropriate. The plot slows down a little around the 2/3 mark, with a section where it seems like the momentum has stalled a little, but the writing keeps you engaged and captivated anyway. Mostly the pacing is efficient, not wasting any time in the beginning to get our characters right into the heart of the story’s action, bringing them together and separating them only to bring them together in good order, letting us learn more about them throughout. There is a bit of a slowdown around 2/3 of the way through, but that is in part because Wendig doesn’t want to give the characters any easy epiphanies or deux ex machina moments, and the result is it takes time for them to learn what they need to learn to move forward. The character work and world-building, along with crisp and emotional writing, make sure that there is always something to keep you interested, regardless, and the story soon finds its footing again for a memorable and nonstop final act.
Wendig isn’t subtle about the themes or ideas he wants to explore, here. He says in his afterward (and this isn’t spoiling anything about the story,) “We are creatures of extraordinary depth, a deep cavern with infinite strata, and we have seen things and felt things and experienced things—we’re reckoning with a wealth of love and trauma and pain and wonder, and storytelling, at its best, represents that reckoning on the page." Like any good story about a haunting, this story is about the people that live through it, through the hauntings of their lives and their pains and their celebrations and their friendships. It is about facing what haunts us, staring it in the face, and making friends with it.
I want to thank the author, the publisher Del Ray, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.