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The Unfinished
When Jiggs, a deaf gay man, rents a house inhabited by "the unfinished"--spirits who cannot rest--he must release three of them from their bondage in order to bring his friend Jake out of a coma induced by these beings
288 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1993
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
June 9, 2022
When I was six or seven years old, I saw a man unlike any I'd seen before. He was young and old at the same time, buried in layers of too much clothing with greyed skin and eyes sunken in a skeletal face. I was too little to have any concrete ideas of sickness and mortality. I asked my mother about him and she told me not to stare, and after we were away, she told me he likely had AIDS.
Jay B. Law died from AIDS complications before this--only his second book--was published. As a pure horror book, it's tremendously effective. Anxiety, tension, sensuality, tragedy. My emotions were jerked every which way and I was constantly eager to get back to it. The characterization and language usage are fantastic.
But it isn't just a horror book.
The framing story is about Jiggs, a deaf, gay man living in San Fransico who, through a very unexplored contrivance, can suddenly communicate with ghosts. They come to him with their unfinished business and tell their stories. The first, a twisting and turning anxiety rollercoaster, is a great bit of thriller-horror. The second story, that takes up about half the book, is a heart-wrenching story about a desperate, vain man with AIDS and a demonic deal. The last story, a beautiful little thing about death and acceptance, was devastating.
In order for me to give a book five stars, it has to illicit a strong emotional response. Usually, it has to make me cry, and that's no easy task. Typically, the tears are for characters and themes, aspects of fiction that have touched me. It wasn't the fictional characters here that made me cry. The people this book made me cry for were real. I cried for this author, who must have been suffering terribly while writing this. Who recorded a character's desperate struggle with AIDS and the almost bottomless depths they took him too in a way so real and personal I almost feel ashamed to have read it, like I took a peek at someone's diary and saw something I shouldn't have. The description of aches, sores, withering skin, and suicide contemplation are tangibly real.
And I cried for that man I saw as a child, that newly unearthed memory, a dusty half-forgotten glimpse of a life that probably didn't go on much past that day, and likely ended in pain and suffering.
Jay B. Law died from AIDS complications before this--only his second book--was published. As a pure horror book, it's tremendously effective. Anxiety, tension, sensuality, tragedy. My emotions were jerked every which way and I was constantly eager to get back to it. The characterization and language usage are fantastic.
But it isn't just a horror book.
The framing story is about Jiggs, a deaf, gay man living in San Fransico who, through a very unexplored contrivance, can suddenly communicate with ghosts. They come to him with their unfinished business and tell their stories. The first, a twisting and turning anxiety rollercoaster, is a great bit of thriller-horror. The second story, that takes up about half the book, is a heart-wrenching story about a desperate, vain man with AIDS and a demonic deal. The last story, a beautiful little thing about death and acceptance, was devastating.
In order for me to give a book five stars, it has to illicit a strong emotional response. Usually, it has to make me cry, and that's no easy task. Typically, the tears are for characters and themes, aspects of fiction that have touched me. It wasn't the fictional characters here that made me cry. The people this book made me cry for were real. I cried for this author, who must have been suffering terribly while writing this. Who recorded a character's desperate struggle with AIDS and the almost bottomless depths they took him too in a way so real and personal I almost feel ashamed to have read it, like I took a peek at someone's diary and saw something I shouldn't have. The description of aches, sores, withering skin, and suicide contemplation are tangibly real.
And I cried for that man I saw as a child, that newly unearthed memory, a dusty half-forgotten glimpse of a life that probably didn't go on much past that day, and likely ended in pain and suffering.
October 29, 2019
What I Think: This tale took me threw a range of emotions as only a good horror master can. I felt anger, despair, frustration, terror and sheer confusion as to whether some characters are ghosts or ghouls. I’m still deciding what to believe and think I just might have to go read the last part again in the hopes that I will finally be able to make up my mind. A captivating entry considering that so many of us bookworms wear one sight aid or the other. The descent into Jiggs’ personal hell, a hell that he is led to by his dreams, is as scary as a nightmare that can’t be woken from. What makes this even scarier is the otherwise picturesque setting and the way the Author slides Jiggs right in the thick of things, altering his reality and ours completely. It’s the normalcy of this slice of town filled with the spooky eerieness of being haunted, using commonplace objects and things as mediums. I may never look at certain things the same way again. But this tale is a celebration of the strength that Jigs has. Strength and resolve I’m certain even he never knew he had.
And then the first tale begins, sucking is into a riveting tale that I found unputdownable. The real horror lying not in the appearance of the thing whose tale this is but in the betrayal that follows it.
Only to be dragged into a new tale of horror as the Aids epidemic sweeps through America and people say the wrong thing. The terror of watching someone do something you’d most likely do in their shoes and watching it backfire is too real and close to home for someone like me who’s often thought I just might give my little fingers to have a body that isn’t so broken. The immortal words of the Wish Master, be careful what you wish for, slide thickly through my mind as I wait for the terror about to be unleashed. The depths of desperation have never been darker nor more evil. Yet, even in the depths of this terror, a light shines that is all the greater for the horror around it.
The third tale will leave you floundering, reading again and again just to make sense of it. I still don’t know what makes it terrible but it’s the one that stayed with me the most. Then, because apparently, this Author needed people to know just how amazing he is, we are given a short tale where imagination becomes real. I took off my hat in salute to a master of his trade even as I wept at a life cut short too damn soon.
Verdict? A tale of realistic terror that will leave vestiges of itself in the cobwebs of your minds. Not for the faint of heart or the highly imaginative!
And then the first tale begins, sucking is into a riveting tale that I found unputdownable. The real horror lying not in the appearance of the thing whose tale this is but in the betrayal that follows it.
Only to be dragged into a new tale of horror as the Aids epidemic sweeps through America and people say the wrong thing. The terror of watching someone do something you’d most likely do in their shoes and watching it backfire is too real and close to home for someone like me who’s often thought I just might give my little fingers to have a body that isn’t so broken. The immortal words of the Wish Master, be careful what you wish for, slide thickly through my mind as I wait for the terror about to be unleashed. The depths of desperation have never been darker nor more evil. Yet, even in the depths of this terror, a light shines that is all the greater for the horror around it.
The third tale will leave you floundering, reading again and again just to make sense of it. I still don’t know what makes it terrible but it’s the one that stayed with me the most. Then, because apparently, this Author needed people to know just how amazing he is, we are given a short tale where imagination becomes real. I took off my hat in salute to a master of his trade even as I wept at a life cut short too damn soon.
Verdict? A tale of realistic terror that will leave vestiges of itself in the cobwebs of your minds. Not for the faint of heart or the highly imaginative!
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews