On a carefree Christmas holiday in the snow-capped Bavarian Alps, tragedy struck Anne and Edmund Blackstone. Simon, their beloved son, fell mysteriously ill and died. Or did he...?
While on holiday in the Alps, young Simon Blackstone dies, succumbing to a mysterious illness. While SImon's family deals with his death, people around him are dying and the Blackstones must face the fact that their beloved Simon is a Moonchild! Can they bury him before what would have been his seventh birthday to stop the curse, with German police on their trail?
Losing a child is terrible. Having the child rise from the dead whenever his casket opens and kill someone with his monster claw is something else entirely. It's a shame I wasn't as captivated by this book as I wanted to be.
The writing style feels antiquated, like I imagine popular fiction from the 1920s was written. The characters aren't all that detailed or interesting. The menace of the Moonchild didn't really live up to its potential. Or maybe I'm being too hard on schlocky horror from the '70s.
There are some creepy moments but I was ultimately uninterested. Two out of five stars.
For some reason I remembered this book while watching the original 'Salem's Lot miniseries on DVD. This book scared the HELL out of me when I was younger.
I've read this book a few times and recommend it to all my friends. If you like to be scared, this book will terrify you. It scared me to the point I had to stop reading it for the night and try again the next. Excellent choice and I will read it a few more times.
I can't remember if this book was mentioned in Paperbacks from Hell, but I do know I discovered The Moonchild before knowing about that book. The cover, and the review I read (by Grady Hendrix, of course), was what sold me on it. I did go in to the book expecting it to be terrible, which might be the best approach for horror novels from this era.
To be fair, I didn't hate the book. I actually think McKenney's writing is decent. He manages to maintain a good tension through the book, which is pretty impressive because the basic premise of the book is stupid. The Moonchild (that's him on the cover) is a dead child who rises from the dead whenever he is struck by light and kills people by strangling them or tearing out their throats. Each kill makes him stronger, and the arm he uses to kill people gets larger, more demonic, and grows longer claws with each death. According to legend, the only way to stop a Moonchild is to bury him at the very spot where he was born, before his seventh birthday. Why? That's not clear, because no one in the story has any idea why this is the case (nor do they understand why the Moonchild curse even happens). I kinda wanted one of the characters to say, "Because the writer can't come up with a good reason."
I'll admit that Edmund Blackstone is the perfect name for a character in a horror novel, but I didn't understand why McKenney used his full name whenever he referred to him in the narrative. There weren't multiple Edmunds, and his wife wasn't consistently referred to as Anna Blackstone, so I can only guess that McKenney really liked the name, and wanted to get the most out of it. Either that, or he was paid by the word.
I actually considered giving this book three stars, but the end of the novel has a character appear out of nowhere to help make sure everything falls into place. There was something unnatural about him, based on how McKenney wrote him, but it was never explained, and didn't make a lot of sense. It was a little disappointing, because while I felt like the story was a bit dry and uneventful, by the time I hit the last fifty pages of the book, I didn't want to put it down.
I wouldn't recommend the book for anyone outside of horror, and even then, I would caution people to lower their expectations before reading it. I've certainly read worse novels, but there are a whole heaping lot of better ones I'd recommend before getting to this one.
Moonchild, hear the mandrake scream! Sadly no relation to the Iron Maiden song of the same title, this novel set in the late 1800s is the story of Edmund and Anna Blackstone, whose young son Simon dies of fever during the family's Christmas vacation in Bavaria. Soon a helpful native tells the parents their now deceased son is a Moonchild, an undead creature that lusts for murder and will turn more bestial with each kill. Born simply because someone messed up the calendar back in ancient times, the only solution is to keep him locked in the coffin and bury him in the English town where he was born before he turns seven years old.
And so the chase is on across continental Europe, as the bereaving parents race against the clock and capture as hapless railwaymen and other inquisitive minds try to pry open the Moonchild's coffin, only to be murdered by the undead child and his incredible growing monster arm.
There's a distinctive Dracula vibe here, with the dark central European milieu and all its superstitions coming crashing down on the civilized English couple. Sherlock Holmes is another clear inspiration, with the role of the clever investigator played by an inspector Fuchs (German for 'Fox') from Munich, who quickly figures out there's more to the case than meets the eye.
As a monster, the Moonchild is a particularly tame one, completely docile while out of light and never even getting out of the coffin, just lying there, smiling and shining while throttling its victims. The novel isn't at all concerned about horror and gore, instead it's all about the atmosphere. The snowy Bavarian alps, the steam trains racing through the night, all the accoutrements of fin-de-siècle Europe. It's a lovely setting, and the novel makes a good use of it. The writing in this late-1970s novel is also engaging and above par for the genre, with a little humour, suitably interesting characters (wait for the mysterious watchman in the finale) and some good heft to all the ponderous supernatural shenanigans.
Uno de mis tópicos favoritos en la literatura, niños malditos, pero este libro no solo aborda este tópico. La posesión demoniaca, un antiguo rito respecto a un calendario que se desconoce. Todos estos elementos forman eta joya de terror, publicada en el año 1978 y traducida al español en 1980, el hijo de la luna es de esos libros que sobrepasan la realidad, donde mantiene al lector durante todo el recorrido con esa tensión. El no saber que esta ocurriendo, de que trata todo lo que les esta pasando a nuestros protagonistas. Un verdadero martirio que se prolonga durante 12 capítulos. El final esta bastante bien, creí sería malo pero la verdad termino como quería que lo hiciera. Una novela un poco difícil de conseguir, pero que si logran encontrar no se van a arrepentir. Me gustaría a ver visto una adaptación cinematográfica pero jamás fue adaptado. Debo destacar varios puntos en común y eventos parecidos a Dracula de Bram Stoker. Aun así no es un libro de vampiros. Me encanto.
Odd but not completely uninteresting book. Starts as a Victorian Dracula type story then evolves into a bit of Sherlock Holmes...only to putter to a stop at the end. No real scares but you could do worse in the genre.
You don’t go in to this expecting it anything besides a trashy horror book, but there were just so many things that could have been better. Pretty good idea with minimal effort put in to execution. Not great not awful.
I read this mainly because I recalled reading it under my desk in civics class in approximately 1992. I don't remember what I thought of it then but trust me: it's not very good at ALL.
This book looks boring and sounds boring from the description but it is very well written. Kind of predictable and it ended pretty much how I thought it would but I'm glad I read it.