Michael McDowell's Blackwater meets Clive Barker's The Great and Secret Show in the disturbing first installment of a new trilogy of transgressive literary horror from the Bram Stoker Award® finalist and Splatterpunk Award-winning author of Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke.
The lives of those residing in the isolated town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire, are forever altered after three faceless entities arrive on Christmas morning to perform a brutal act of violence—a senseless tragedy that can never be undone. While the townspeople grieve their losses and grapple with the aftermath of the attack, a young teenage boy named Rupert Cromwell is forced to confront the painful realities of his family situation. Once relationships become intertwined and more carnage ensues as a result of the massacre, the town residents quickly learn that true retribution is futile, cruelty is earned, and certain thresholds must never be crossed no matter what.
Engrossing, atmospheric, and unsettling, this is a devastating story of a small New England community rocked by an unforgivable act of violence. Writing with visceral intensity and profound eloquence, LaRocca journeys deep into the dark heart of Burnt Sparrow, leaving you chilled to the bone and wanting more.
Eric LaRocca (he/they) is a 3x Bram Stoker Award® finalist, a Shirley Jackson Award nominee, and a 2x Splatterpunk Award winner. He was named by Esquire as one of the “Writers Shaping Horror’s Next Golden Age” and praised by Locus as “one of the strongest and most unique voices in contemporary horror fiction.” LaRocca’s notable works include Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke, Everything the Darkness Eats, and At Dark, I Become Loathsome. He currently resides in Boston, Massachusetts, with his partner.
Me thinks they weren’t so tender with their dead. Or if that’s their definition of tender, I’d hate to see what sadistic looks like.
One of my favorite things is when I finish a book, and I understood what happened. I really enjoy that feeling. I don’t enjoy feeling like I just read a book in Swahili with a few English words intermingled, but only used when describing vile, morally putrid scenes.
That was this book. Don’t get me wrong, there were some things here to be appreciated. The faceless family and the human-headed bird stood out as entities I’ll remember long after I put this book away for good.
I know this fits into a broader universe and is only the first book in the series, but to have no conclusion, or to bring anything to a close felt unsatisfactory. I have no interest in seeing how this plays out.
I’m disappointed after having recently read After Dark, I Become Loathsome, and loving it so much. I had high hopes for this one. I’m sure there’s audience out there for it, but consider me squarely on the outside looking in…
I have had to sit on this for like 2 days and I still don’t know what the fuck I just listened to.
I have been interested in picking up LaRocca’s work for a while and a queer horror story seemed right up my alley as a starting place…. But what the actual fuck?
I am not entirely sure where to start….. Needless to say, this was fucked up and had some GENUINELY nauseating moments. I feel like my main take away is that even in a world that has monsters in it, nothing is more monstrous than the capacity of man.
I mean all nausea aside… I will 100% still continue reading because I am curious to see if book 2 will be a continuation of Rupert’s story and where it will go because I have SO MANY QUESTIONS STILL, but Jesus mind the content warnings on this one…..
I think that Tristan Wright did a fine performance with this. I am not entirely convinced that he was the right pick for a narrator given that Rupert was 17 years old and Wrights performance sounds very much like that of a fully grown man with a well established beard….
I am caught between what I would rate this due to the semi regular revolution vs what I would rate this due to its ability to hold me captive (it is a splatterpunk horror novel after all) and I think that ultimately, the fact that I couldn’t turn away from the horrors this story depicts means that it achieves what it sets out to do.
But still, what the fuck…..
(P.S. BRO, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT BIRD????)
(P.P.S. LaRocca always hits his covers out of the park, I swear as a whole collection they are some of my faves)
3.5 stars rounded up. Thanks (?) to NetGalley for the opportunity to listen and review this audio ARC and to share my honest thoughts and feelings. I feel like I need to listen to something light and fluffy now lol
Content warnings✨ graphic depictions of violence and body horror, mass murder and murder, on page sexual assault and rape, child abuse and sexual abuse, death of an infant, incest, necrophilia, torture and domestic abuse…..
2,5 ⭐️ The only other work I’ve read by Eric LaRocca was Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke, and I can safely say his horror is unique. The first installment of the Burnt Sparrow trilogy is one of the most psychedelic experiences I’ve had.
I’m not sure how I feel about it, to be completely honest. Some elements will stay with me - the mixed media sprinkled in, the claustrophobic and utterly hopeless atmosphere of a small town with its almost cultish community. I enjoyed the theme of thresholds, whether physical or moral, and no way back once some of them are crossed. The presence of the mysterious faceless people and bird-like creatures piqued my curiosity the most.
Nevertheless, I can’t say the story worked for me, and the writing style is mostly at fault. For the first three quarters or so, the prose seemed quite stilted and repetitive, relying on telling instead of showing. (Just two of the examples are the word ‘father’ used more than ten times on a single page, and the overuse of ‘feel’ - it started to grate on me.)
All of that caused me to struggle to connect with anything, to find an anchor that would make me invested in the characters and their unenviable fate. Mostly, I was left confused and floundering, a bit apathetic and in disbelief.
Fortunately, the last quarter definitely picked up, and what’s mind-boggling - the writing itself got infinitely better? As if that was the only part truly edited? I don’t know if that’s possible, but it kind of saved the story for me.
Despite my misgivings, I encourage interested readers to pick this book up simply because horror tends to be a very subjective genre, more than the others. I think I prefer my horror to be more rooted in realness, with subtly building dread and atmosphere breathing down my neck, written in a way that would chill me to the core. Unfortunately, I didn't feel any of that here.
Thank you to Netgalley and Titan Books for allowing me access to the ARC for my honest review.
P.S.: don’t listen to the title, it’s a lying liar who lies 💀
Content warnings - graphic depictions of body horror, incest, sexual assault, animal cruelty, gun violence, murder, necrophilia, child sexual abuse, violent death of an infant, domestic abuse, torture, and bereavement
Please make Book 2 come out SOON! I can’t wait to find out more about the unique and strange characters! So many outrageous and mysterious elements! I’m on pins and needles and need answers! 5 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️!
This gave me major Welcome To Night Vale vibes, but is *definitely* more depraved + disturbing with a lot of taboo things explored.
I don’t know that I fully understood exactly what happened because of how surreal/fever dreamish things played out, but it had me hooked throughout and I’ll definitely check out the other books in the series when they come out!!
There's a GoodReads giveaway happening right now until September 8, 2025! CLICK HERE TO ENTER.
It’s a horrifying ordeal—to be alive. To be subject to pain, suffering, and harm almost like it were a birthright. It’s especially frightening to exist in a country so indifferent to our well-being, our autonomy and safety. I often worry when in crowded places. I become unsettled, deeply anxious when confronted with loud noises—anything that could remotely sound like gunfire. I try to calm myself and look for assurances from others, but it’s a difficult thing to endure—the unpredictability of our safety whenever out in public. There’s a terrifying chance that anything can happen. In the United States of America, violence and brutality are a part of daily life.
This the first installment of a trilogy of novels set in the fictional town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire. Although this place does not exist on any map, it serves as a stand-in for the many small, isolated towns across North America where “bad things aren’t supposed to happen.” At the time of writing this novel, I was incredibly anxious about the future of this nation and especially the disturbing increase of gun violence across the U.S. To live in this country is to feel permanently unsafe, to feel as though you must always remain on guard. Of course, this threat is amplified for marginalized communities, but it’s true for everyone.
To me, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead serves to illustrate the new American nightmare as opposed to the proverbial and much sought after “American dream”—the fetishization of weapons, the ritualistic manner in which we grieve our losses following the massacres, and, most notably, the disturbing reality of our leaders failing to pass major gun reform laws in order to keep American civilians safe.
It’s incredibly alarming to exist in a world that feels so hellbent on our downfall, our destruction. So much of this novel was written with the intention of understanding how we process our trauma and how we collectively move forward while suffering major injuries due to those who are in charge.
The American Dream is dead. We are left to mindlessly idle in the debris. But at least we will remain tender with the lifeless bodies of those who perish when the inevitable time comes…
*WARNING: This book contains graphic depictions of body horror, incest, sexual assault, animal cruelty, gun violence, murder, necrophilia, child sexual abuse, violent death of an infant, domestic abuse, torture, and bereavement.
ARC for review. To be published September 9, 2025.
A shaky three stars, only because I’m hoping the sequels are better.
On Christmas morning in the godforsaken town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire three faceless people lay waste to a number of the town’s citizens (nothing says “happy birthday Jesus” like a good, old-fashioned massacre!) The three are captured and seventeen year old Rupert Cromwell and his father are two of the people charged with guarding the scene of the disaster where the corpses just lie where they fell. Rupert and his father have had a strained relationship since the death of Rupert’s mother.
Then the richest man in town petitions the town aldermen to have the three brought to his home for punishment. And things are about to get a whole lot worse for Rupert. Much, much worse.
This is the first in a proposed Burnt Sparrow trilogy and while I really enjoyed (if that’s the right word for a LaRocca book) the author’s last book, AT DARK I BECOME LOATHSOME and thought it was a great leap forward for LaRocca as both a plotter and a writer, this felt like a little bit of a regression. Some of the material here seemed to be for shock value only, and while lots of splatterpunk fans may enjoy that, I need a little more non-gratuitousness (a word? Probably not.) to my violence. Plus, in general, I wasn’t really sure of the point of the whole story, and I’m still not. Maybe more will become clear which future installments (which I would definitely read,) but even with a trilogy the books have to be able to stand on their own to some degree. So, I wasn’t disappointed, but, like I said, I’ll go on with the series to see what happens next. Probably recommended if you know you like LaRocca, see what you think. If this is to be your first from the author, don’t start here.
"In the agonizing stillness, he tilts his head and wonders if he hears someone, something, whistling. it sounds like a pathetic lament, a mournful dirge for all the thresholds he will never cross again. A somber poem to welcome him to his now eternal tomb."
Twice Splatterpunk Award winner and thrice Bram Stoker Award finalist, prolific queer horror writer Eric LaRocca regrets to inform us that he failed miserably in handling the subject matter with delicateness and sensitivity. From the foreword, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead (Burnt Sparrow, #1) shows that tenderness has nothing to do with LaRocca's narrative.
Inspired by Goethe's quote (all beginnings are delightful;) "the threshold is the place to pause", Burnt Sparrow #1 is the manifestation of a threshold, a doorframe or a windowsill where its inhabitants have paused at the point of no return, observing with dread the tragedies unfolding throughout the history of this godforsaken place. The story starts with a news article reporting the death by fire of a queer couple, and the indication of a third person possibly being involved in the crime. Shortly after, we read a diary entry by Ruppert, a seventeen-year-old, suggesting he committed a hideous act he doesn't regret, making the reader wonder if there is a connection between both events. Needless to say, LaRocca's novels are deceptively linear. Misery seems to be widespread in this sulphur-smelling town, as Hell itself has built its threshold on top of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire.
Surprisingly, this novel reads as an angst-filled, claustrophobic, coming-of-age story, and despite the initial lack of character development in Burnt Sparrow #1, Ruppert's characterisation is on point (which cannot be said about the whole cast). We spend some time learning about the town, its history and inhabitants. His father is distant, jobless, and static. Ruppert is a sensible closeted queer boy who reads Proust and Steinbeck, the personification of angst teen, orphaned on his mother's side, grappling with growing up under his estranged father's care. For the past few years, after his wife's death, Ruppert's father has become numb, until a massacre takes place on Christmas Day 2003, when a dozen Burnt Sparrow residents are shot. The killers had no face, no nose, no mouth. We are introduced to the town Elders, representing a shaman-like congregation, perhaps suggestive of indigenous North Americans, and the Esherwood, the Burnt Sparrow patrons.
The novel progresses, and much of the background information is given in bits and pieces. Here, LaRocca questions morality, small-town power dynamics, queerness, desire, xenophobia and much more. Some of these enquiries are explored in a "horror" language, meaning you'll be disgusted. There are numerous trigger warnings and a list in the foreword. However, the violence often felt gratuitous, with no noticeable intention (including necrophilia, incest, rape). Ruppert meanders most of the novel, questioning and philosophising about everything around him, offering depth and a sense of disquiet. I daresay it has a tint of gothic.
After the massacre, the Elders and Mr Esherwood take the prisoners under their "care" and order the killed resident's corpses to remain on the spot where they were killed, creating job opportunities for the body-watchers. Ruppert and his father start working, preventing the corpses from being moved by fauna or foe. I won't spoil what happens, but I was expecting more. From this point Ruppert meanders endlessly and not much happens. It is fairly common for the first book of a series to set the scene for the remainder, however, Burnt Sparrow #1 felt unbaked. There are still too many loose threads to cast a full judgement, but this was not a strong first book of a series. It failed to engross me. Burnt Sparrow could work for others that are in it for the gore, the disgusting, the violent. Unfortunately, it wasn't for me.
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher Titan via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.
I'm sitting here staring at this screen with no idea of what to say about this book. I had many reasons NOT to read it. For one, it has a list of trigger warnings as long as my arm. Also, extreme horror is not my cuppa anymore, at least-not for the most part. As it turns out, I needn't have worried and I've just come to this stark revelation about myself: I like it when Eric LaRocca writes it. What does that say about me?!
The synopsis gives you everything you need to know before you start, (as well as a list of those trigger warnings, I suggest you read them first), and I'm not here to ruin the narrative for you. I'm not sure I can summarize anything accurately anyway, because all the threads are still spinning in the air without connecting up to...much else. For instance, who are these mysterious town elders walking around and making decisioons for everybody? What is wrong with this town where they leave....things in the street? Who does that? Is this some kind of evil in a small town thing? Maybe a cult? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
There are enough tantalizing tentacles of information dangling here to make me want to continue with this story. I want to reach up to one of those dangling tentacles and pull it down so I can read on. RIGHT NOW. Right now, I say!
This story certainly won't be for everyone but it was definitely for me. If you were on the horror book scene back when Clive Barker exploded and each new book was filled with beauty and stark terror, then you will know how I feel when reading Eric LaRocca's work. The same adjectives come to mind: creative, obscene, imaginative, outstanding and unique.
There are only a handful of authors who write extreme horror that I trust and Eric is one of them, is cosy extreme horror a thing?? (You're gonna go look at the trigger warnings and be like is Heather ok BUT it is set at christmas so forgive me?) I adore creepy towns with creepy people doing weird ass creepy shit, the oppressive atmosphere and cultish community scratches an itch, I enjoy ambiguity and being on edge, as the book progresses theres a palpable feeling of overwhelming dread,you will shelve this under "uhm what the hell, what the helly did I just read" but those who get it, get it, Eric's writing is beautiful, brutal and haunting and I can't get enough of it
Bookish Thoughts I really didn’t like this book. I can appreciate disturbing or unsettling stories, but this one crossed a line for me. The inclusion of incest completely ruined the book. _ _ _ 📖 Final Score: 1 Star 🎧 Audio Score: 3 stars 🎙️ Narration Style: Solo (Tristan Wright) 📅 Pub Date: September 16, 2025 📝 Thank you to Dreamscape Media and NetGalley for the advanced listening copy. All thoughts are my own.
OK, so yes LaRocca is F’ed up and we all know this. This book has A LOT of content warnings and honestly?? I thought it was kinda tame for him. I mean, certainly it was totally disturbing and traumatizing but if you’re familiar with his writing, and have read enough horror with some unappetizing content, I don’t think you’ll find this any more insane than the next F’ed up creepy gross disturbing novel out there.
Am I completely desensitized? Possibly, but I do NOT read splatterpunk or like torture porn. Some may disagree but I think he did a good job of not getting too descriptive with the really upsetting content, a lot was off screen. Still, read at your own risk etc.
This story was super interesting and creepy to me and I have no idea where it’s going. I’m very interested in there being two more books to follow. There are a lot of mysterious happenings in the town of Burnt Sparrow.
If you’re someone who needs definitive answers you won’t get them at the end of book one, and I doubt we really will at the end of books two and three either.
As far as the comparison to Michael McDowell? (MM being my most cherished author) I guess I understand why due to the weird small town setting and I can see some of the “monsters” or freaky things that happened existing in MM’s world….. but not really all the excessive content warnings though and certainly not the style of writing. MM didn’t need absolute perversity to create a terrifying and unsettling atmosphere (no shade intended, LaRocca).
I've loved MOST of Eric Larocca's writing, but I had always preferred their short stories. Their first full length novel Everything The Darkness Eats wasn't for me at all, and their novella You've Lost A Lot of Blood was enjoyable, but thoroughly confused me.
His last novel At Dark I Become Loathsome was the first full length novel I'd thoroughly enjoyed as much as I enjoy their shorts.
But this novel, which is book one of what's going to be a trilogy, was the best book I've read this year. (And this was the 89th book I've read this year.)
I enjoyed how much heart the horror held. Love hurts ... bigotry hurts ....and Eric has such a beautifully macabre way of showing us visual aides, through his words. This book hurts you and holds you simultaneously.
I’ve read books that dive into taboo territory before ( incest, necrophilia, abuse, torture) and handled well, they can push boundaries in good ways. Here, though, the shock felt disconnected from the story, more for effect than substance, which dulled its impact rather than heightened it.
The premise itself is strong: Burnt Sparrow, a town haunted by tragedy, faceless intruders, and old wounds. But the execution left me wanting. The plot felt thin and scattered, shifting between perspectives in a way that read more like disjointed vignettes than a cohesive narrative. The constant switches broke immersion and made it difficult to stay invested.
In the end, the ingredients for a haunting, layered narrative were there, but the delivery just didn’t click for me.
As a huge LaRocca fan, I was stoked to get this arc of book one in a new trilogy! I love LaRocca's writing and the nasty, grotesque things they produce out of their mind, but this was just ..disappointing.
I'll try my best to explain the plot, but honestly, I probably won't do a good job as the plot was pretty hard to locate throughout this novel. Welcome to Burnt Sparrow, a small town that has been plagued by many strange occurrences, and most recently a horrific massacre at the towns Christmas day parade. When the group responsible for the brutal killings is apprehended, the story begins.
We start off the book reading from Rupert's perspective - a 17 year old boy who has a complicated relationship with his father. This was honestly kind of a drag to get through. I found it difficult to connect to Rupert or care about anything with his character. At times, it was very long winded and info-dumpy feeling getting introduced to Rupert and his inner conflict. I also can't pinpoint exactly what it was, but I did not enjoy the way the narrative was written in Rupert's parts. It just did not measure up to what I would expect from Larocca, knowing they can deliver way better. Partway through, the book switches to our second perspective, Gladys - the woman married to the most wealthy man who resides in Burnt Sparrow. I found the writing seemed to improve during Gladys' chapters and I enjoyed reading from her far more. I think her character had the depth that Rupert was lacking and also an intriguing life/storyline.
I feel so let down that all I can say about this is that 90% of the book felt pointless. I wanted more lore on Burnt Sparrow and background on the town. We know that it's an odd small town where tragedies have occurred, and clearly still do, but the concept is not explored to its full potential. Of course, being the first book in a trilogy, you can't expect everything to be revealed up front - yet you also can't leave the reader hanging and expect them to just pick up the next book without giving them something to look forward to. I think this could have been far better with a little more world building and more information on the town instead of so much focus on the characters' inner monologue and descriptions of mundane activities.
Overall, nothing like what I was hoping for and I will likely not read on in the series, but I still enthusiastically look forward to LaRocca's other upcoming releases. Thanks to NetGalley and Titan Books for providing me with an electronic copy of this book to review.
Eric LaRocca is not a talented writer. They can often hide it in their short stories and novellas with sensational gore and shock value, but it's very evident in their long-form work. Rupert's "personality" is entirely comprised of three things: a dead mother, being gay (or, as he insists on putting it in the bizarre, stilted way everything in this novel is phrased, "being attracted to the same sex"), and a desire to leave Burnt Sparrow. That is all he thinks or talks about, displaying a jarring and unrealistic lack of curiosity or disturbance over the bizarre and upsetting things happening around him. When the massacre first occurred and the town's reaction seemed to be lukewarm at best, especially given the decision to maintain and guard the bodies where they lay, I expected some kind of explanation for how this occurrence was normal in their town or SOME kind of reasoning for why they were all so infuriatingly blase about a fucked up situation. Nope. I also couldn't figure out what time period this was supposed to be set in -- the dated entries are all from the 2000s but the speech patterns fluctuate between pseudo-colonial and mid-century flatness. I don't expect an explanation for weirdness in horror, and in fact I prefer not to have one, but there does need to be some justification or reason for its presence and existence.
In typical Eric LaRocca fashion, this left me feeling equal parts disturbed, hurting, and yet... weirdly comforted?
I've been a fan of Eric's since the beginning, and this book reminded me of exactly why their stories are so memorable to me. It's difficult for me to put into words quite how my time in Burnt Sparrow left me feeling, but I devoured the entire novel in one sitting after spending several months in a reading slump, and now I know I'll be counting down the days until I can get my hands on the next installment in the series.
4 stars instead of 5 only because there were a few moments here and there that felt slightly out of place, like perhaps they belonged to a different story—but truly, I inhaled this book and am going to be dwelling on it for a long time to come.
Thank you to the publisher for the gifted copy! All thoughts are honest and my own.
✨ Representation: several queer (gay, sapphic, bi/pan, and trans) characters
I don’t want to get into a whole “them vs. us,” but when it comes to most horror readers…we know we are in the literary minority. Apparently some weirdos enjoy reading about love, loss, &… monster peens? Idk man, go look at what’s topping the charts. I’m not yucking anyone’s yum, I’m trying to prove a point here. Writing about those base level emotions is just a bit pedestrian to me. Hell, I’ve loved, lost, & mourned a sandwich before. Imma need you to really wow me w/ your words. I want to regret having comprehension skills & sensory organs after I’ve read something. I want to feel my skin crawl. I want to HATE a fictional character. I want a scene to make me feel so uncomfortable, it makes everything else NOT THAT seem all that much greater. When I want to feel complete & utter 🫥🫥🫥 (whatever that emoji is) I want to read some Eric LaRocca. The master of 🫠🫠🫠. Well good news everyone, he’s got a whole new SERIES coming out & it brings all the 🫥🫠🫥🫠🫥!
Quick Synopsis: It’s Christmas time in Burnt Sparrow. Christmas trees, presents, & a bloody massacre right in the middle of the festivities. The assailants are captured, but the town isn’t quite sure what to do with these unidentified murderers. Burnt Sparrow is not your typical town, never has been. They do things differently here & answer to *other* powers that be. This is the tale of two families & their bizarre connections to the Christmas catastrophe.
I’ve read just about every LaRocca out there. His lavender lamentations & excruciating expositions punch my brain in all the right spots. We Are Always Tender with Our Dead is very LaRocca, but on what feels like a grander scale. He’s playing a long game here & he’s going to fuck us up good when we get to the end of this; I just know it. This story hits just about every taboo, oddity, & revolting notion; except it feels like he’s toying with us. Like it’s just the top layer; but that top layer still made me squirm, retch, & wince throughout. I’ve also now picked up looking nervously at the corners of doorways before I go through them so, th-th-thanks for that, Eric. I was lucky enough to score a physical ARC at Authorcon V; but this will be dropping in the Fall. I highly recommend it & am looking forward to being absolutely decimated by the rest of this trilogy.
I think we all know by now that I have a real big love/hate relationship with Eric La Rocca. Every one of their books is like tearing a petal off a flower. I like this one, I don’t like this one, I like this one, you get the point.
My interest was piqued when I heard that this book would be the first in an upcoming series. La Rocca has only ever done short story collections or standalone pieces so I was real curious to see what this was setting up.
I’ve never felt so conflicted over a La Rocca book before. Even after re-reading some sections and taking some time to think I still really don’t know how I feel. Writing a review for this book has been really hard so I hope I’ve done a decent job here.
*I’ve decided to mark this as spoilers because I bring up some trigger warnings that may spoil specific points in the book. Reader discretion is advised*
I’ll state my main problem first. The inclusion of Rupert Cromwell as one half of the narrative. I don’t like the fact that he’s 17, still a minor, and witnesses the things that he does in this novel. It feels icky, grossly uncomfortable, and completely unnecessary. There’s no conceivable reason why he couldn’t be at least 18 and still in high school. Believe me when I say we aren’t allowed to forget he’s 17 because it’s brought up so frequently. He’s subjected to witnessing execution, mass murder, literal corpses rotting on the ground, child murder, child sexual abuse, incest, necrophilia, rape. This novel would not have been any different if he was older. Not to mention that his opening segment and diary entries were so jarringly written like La Rocca opened up a thesaurus and was writing the most ridiculous words down.
(Not related to Rupert but there are graphic depictions of rape and incest told through the perspective of a 10-13 year old child’s diary entries. Completely unnecessary inclusion in the novel to explain why one of the central antagonist was “sadistic”. No joke after the diary entries here’s what Rupert had to say “Regardless, it explains some of his cruelty. Perhaps not all of it, but enough to justify why he’s such a monster to almost everyone.” Yuck, the character was groomed and assaulted by his older brother and you want to say that he was in love with him and became distraught and sadistic after his death? No thank you.)
That’s where Gladys Esherwood comes in, the second half of the narrative. She really saved this book for me. I was considering DNF’ing it for the time being because that first segment with Rupert was BAD (and that went on for about 60 pages… in a 190 page book) but her story and character were engaging and actually worth sitting the rest of the novel out for. Her first segment flipped the book around and the writing and story improved after that point. It didn’t feel like word vomit anymore and the story was actually cohesive and going somewhere. The news paper articles and folk stories included about the town were interesting as well and it certainly seems like they’re setting up the rest of the series.
Will I be continuing this series? I end up reading all of Eric La Rocca’s books eventually so I’ll probably be here for the next one. Am I happy about that? In short, not really. Maybe with some new characters and a different story the history of Burnt Sparrow could really shine. We saw glimpses of what could be but I’m not entirely sold yet. Maybe book 2 will be better.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
"Sometimes you have to hurt someone to show how much you truly care."
It is bad that I never read the tw’s in the front of any book? I love to be shocked with how twisted these tales can get. Apparently, readers have been disgusted with this one. I’m here to tell you, I’ve read way way waaaaayy worse.
Whenever I read anything by LaRocca I think CV Hunt, Duncan Ralston, and Clay Chapman. With me saying that, you know you’re in for a fucked up time. I consider that a good thing, most of you lads would probably be turned off.
This book was good in a twisted sort of way. I saw some major plot twists coming before they actually happened but it didn’t take away from this book because they were pretty messed up. With all of that brushed aside, the story was interesting and kept me fully engaged.
If you love the bizarre and a list of tw’s as long as I am tall then this is for you!!
AAAAH ANOTHER ERIC LAROCCA BOOK!! Can't believe I got the ALC for this omg
This is my fifth book by Eric and it's helped solidify their place as one of my favourite authors. Their concepts are so unique, insane and always push the limits of what's 'acceptable'. This book was no exception
Like in everything the darkness eats, we follow a few different POVs that don't merge until later in the book. Most of the time I find this style of storytelling really annoying, but somehow Eric manages to do it in a way that I enjoy. They make every plotline feel as if it's their own separate thing, completely fleshed out and able to stand on its own. I was shocked when they diverged as I forgot they were supposed to, I was no longer waiting for it to happen as I was too sucked in to think about anything other than the words I was hearing 😭
Another great read as expected, really curious to see where the rest of the books go! I never thought I'd see the day that Eric wrote a series, but here we are lol
There are stories within the main story, but mostly, it is about a mass murder of town residents at a Christmas event. For some reason, the elders of the town have decided the dead bodies of the victims should not be buried and instead remain as they are, splattered all over the place. The perpetrators of this heinous act are a faceless family of three. Literally faceless that is. Just blank and empty where a face should be. Why? I don't know. Don't ask me. Did they even really commit these murders? I don't know. They don't speak, and there was no trial or evidence. Maybe it was just decided that they were murderers because they are different.
I'm going to have to file this one under the category of what in the hell did I just read? That being said, I will also be anxiously awaiting the next book in the trilogy. I'm at a loss for how to review this book. I can only say that it's a good thing the town of Burnt Sparrow is fictional because it is not a nice place to visit and you would not want to live there. This is a disturbing tale of depravity, sadism, abuse, neglect, and a great deal of sadness. There is a long list of trigger warnings at the start of this book, so proceed with caution. My thanks to Titan Books and Eric LaRocca
It’s hard to judge a book when it’s just the first installment of a 3-part series but Eric LaRocca’s We Are Always Tender with Our Dead pleasantly surprised me. I was warned about how graphic and transgressive this novel would be, but to be quite honest, I expected more. DeRocca handles the very graphic subject matter with utmost delicateness and sensitivity, despite claiming otherwise in his introduction to this book. I’ve read books that disturbed me much more (Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian and Jose Saramago’s Blindness come to mind), so in a weird way this book let me down. Having said that I still must warn you, the potential reader, that this novel contains graphic depictions of body horror, incest, sexual assault, animal cruelty, gun violence, murder, necrophilia, child sexual abuse and torture. If any of these topics trigger you, stay as far away from this book as possible. However, if you feel ready for these themes in your story, then We Are Always Tender with Our Dead should be experienced.
My favorite part about this novel was its setting. The small town of Burnt Sparrow, New Hampshire feels alive and cursed with violence and misery. LaRocca interweaves bits of newspaper clippings and reports about different crimes and events that took place in Burnt Sparrow, and the place almost feels cursed. This town is its own character in this disturbing tale. Some reviewers kept comparing this town to Twin Peaks, but I’m not sure if I would go that far. Yes, there are similarities, but the town of Burnt Sparrow still feels like its own entity. As I was reading this novel I kept thinking: “Is this town even real? What if it’s not in the US? What if it’s an island floating in outer space?” These thoughts kept coming back to me because of how bizarre and peculiar the premise of this book was. One bright Christmas morning three faceless entities arrive to the town’s square and commit a mass shooting. The town’s response to this unspeakable tragedy is strange to say the least. While the town of Burnt Sparrow is theoretically a part of the US, it feels completely isolated with no help coming from the Federal or even local government. The town’s elders are forced to deal with this tragedy on their own and let’s just say, their decision-making is quite unusual. I don’t want to say anything else about the plot to avoid spoiling it for the curious reader, but I will say that the setting is probably the novel’s strongest character.
So, who should read this book? If you’re looking for a book that will chill and disturb you, this novel should check those boxes for you. If you enjoy novels with multiple perspectives, then this book might interest you. If you’re looking for something unconventional, transgressive and violent, We Are Always Tender with Our Dead will likely please you. Additionally, fans of horror must not sleep on this book. Overall, this book was very enjoyable. I enjoyed the setting, the bizarre characters and their choices, as well as the entire plot of this book. This book is the first one in the trilogy, hence why it feels unfinished, but I will be coming back to this weird world of Burnt Sparrow in the future. 4 strong stars.
I’d like to thank the publisher for providing an ARC of ‘We Are Always Tender with Our Dead’ in exchange for an honest review. Spoilers incoming.
This is unfortunately a very generous 3 stars, and more like a 2.5. If I think about it two hard it might be lowered to a 2, so I’ll go ahead and start articulating my thoughts before I change it. (Edit: I sure did come back on the 21st to lower it to a 2—now that it's simmered I realize I've been far too generous.) I’ll start with my favorite parts, including the title. I had a feeling it was going to be a ironic, tongue-in-cheek title, and I think it’s a fantastic name for this story in particular, and the way the townspeople of Burnt Sparrow handle their own dearly departed. I was pleased with the grasp I had on our two POV characters… for the most part, until plot started happening and their purpose in the story seemed to keep getting buried under weird contrivances and meaningless events.
While the voices of Rupert and Gladys are both clear as day in their own ways, it felt as if the effort on them was wasted on a plot that focused more on being eerie than establishing any meaningful intent. I felt as if LaRocca was standing in the room, pointing at the page and saying “no, you see? what’s happening is messed up right? aren’t they all horrible in their own ways?” while I’m trying to shoo him away and learn how any of this serves whatever plot is supposed to be happening. I’m fully aware that this is book one of a trilogy, but it’s usually not a good idea to place your bets on the reader consuming the later books in a sort of “no, trust me, it’ll be worth it and have substance eventually” blind trust that, truthfully, doesn’t feel earned after reading this.
LaRocca is an incredibly talented writer, but the *storytelling* of this book wasn’t all there, as far as making sense or even providing that vague measure of entertainment. The horror aspects were certainly… there, and I appreciated that many characters were LGBTQ+, but when you’re attempting to establish an old-timey (but not really?) spooky town, it doesn’t make sense for your characters to alternate between using “queer” as a reference to their own sexuality and “queer” as its older definition, meaning strange/peculiar. It felt like LaRocca couldn’t decide between a contemporary horror story, a paranormal ghost-fest far enough removed from modern society for ~anything~ to feel likely-to-happen, and an older, weirder tale, set in some farther off decade or century. Sorry, but name dropping ABBA and placing a story in 2003/4 and then simultaneously making your only two women have the roles of “maid” and “wife” wasn’t really doing it for me. Setting this in the 60s honestly might have served it better—it was weird, how anachronistic this story felt. And not even in a “wow this town is so far removed from normal life” way but just a “huh, well I guess a weird choice is better than no choice” way.
It’s not likely that I’ll be reading the other two books as they’re released, but I’ll never say never! Hoping that I feel more fondness for anything I just read over the next few days.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.