Maria Alexander has been around for awhile and I've long been a huge fan of her work. It was shocking, therefore, when I discovered that MR. WICKER was her debut novel. That an author with her talents and track-record doesn't have a dozen or more books out there is a damned shame.
Let me start with a disclaimer or sorts: There is absolutely nothing about MR. WICKER that would ordinarily appeal to me. It's not my kind of book and, to be frank, had it not been written by Alexander I would probably have skipped it. That being said, the book was nominated for the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in a First Novel. If it doesn't win, there is no God!
Alexander's prose is, in a word, gorgeous. No, to describe it takes two words: spectacularly gorgeous. Or three: exquisitely spectacularly gorgeous. She has a mastery of language that is both elegant and penetrating and which never, ever risks becoming pretentious.
There are very few writers who can captivate me with a throw-away descriptive paragraph, yet Alexander does so effortlessly. Nor does she make the mistake of lesser authors who write beautifully for beauty's sake. In MR. WICKER, the language is used to a purpose, either to elicit an organic emotional response from the reader or slamming us with Alexander's dramatic intent. And "organic" is a good word to use to describe the experience of reading this book. No matter how "heightened" the language, it never becomes self-aware or contrived. To do THAT takes true talent.
I don't normally quote from books I review but,in this case, I'll make an exception. The following is a brief excerpt from a paragraph which introduces a rose garden that figures in the story:
"Two blanching roses hung their blighted heads, Gog and Magog, as they ached across the arena's entry. Their bowed stems crossed like pikes, thorns murderously cuspate. Like a fairy woods, the roses entwined above and below, a mass of commingling vegetation that faintly reeked of perfume. Throughout, the hiss of an unattended needle rode the dead grooves of an antique photograph, dipping with a crackle into a deep scratch."
Lyric yet ominous. Sweet perfume that "reeks". Language that takes the reader exactly where Alexander wants them taken, so subtly that we don't even realize we've been led. Sheer delightful brilliance.
As for the story itself, it is certainly engaging enough though, to be honest, I had difficulty relating to some aspects. This had nothing to do with the writing, but rather was a factor of my own particular tastes in genre fiction. I also disagreed, again on a personal level, with some of Alexander's plot choices. But it it is, of course, HER book, not mine, and that is mere niggling on my part.
Alexander's experience also shows in her ability to seamlessly create realistic characters. We may not always understand completely why a character in MR. WICKER does what they do, but we absolutely believable that they would do so. Again, on a personal level, it was difficult for me to relate to some of the characters herein, particularly to the female protagonist, but I did not for one second feel that she was anything other than a three dimensional person who could easily have, as the cliche goes, stepped off the page.
I started and stopped this book several times, for reasons having nothing to do with my feelings about it. (Mostly due to Kindle SNAFUs) After one of my earlier partial readings, I was a bit put-off by Alexander's digression, halfway through the book, into events that occurred in the distant past. I initially thought the transition into what is essentially exposition hindered the flow of the book. With later readings, however, I changed my mind. In fact, one of my few actual criticisms of MR. WICKER is that we don't find out enough about those ancient events. There is an underlying love story, for example, which propels the motivations of the three main characters, and Alexander merely comments on it briefly. I would much prefer to have seen it fleshed out more fully.
Minor quibbles aside, perhaps MR. WICKER best succeeds in the author's ability to create a pervasive creepiness that lurks just under the surface from beginning to end. There is the sense, while reading, that you should look over your shoulder from time to time and, yet, you have no idea what you expect to see lurking in the corner! There is an eldritch quality to this piece, a disconcerting aura which seems to shift amorphously and is impossible to pin down. Even in the most innocent of scenes, it is there and I have no idea how Alexander does it.
In sum, the story Alexander chose to tell was simply not my "cuppa tea." Thus the 4 star, as opposed to 5 star review. BUT, insofar as Maria Alexander's work is concerned, my liking the story or not is largely irrelevant. I truly believe that this author could rewrite the telephone book and hold me transfixed. She is, quite simply, THAT good.
Easily the best first novel of this year -- and perhaps even of the past several years -- MR. WICKER is a marvelously stunning journey of a read. You do yourself a serious disservice if you do not RUN to read this book!