Dead but Dreaming

by Neil Rushton

With their sister’s early death heavy on their conscience, a reclusive young researcher heads to a psychiatric hospital in the English countryside to study local faerie folklore—and learn more about these creatures their sister claimed to see. They’re quickly caught up in the strange world of the hospital, and a specialist centre within it for the treatment of patients with multiple personalities, run by the enigmatic and Byronic Albé, a gifted psychiatrist with the uncanny ability to know what people are thinking. As the folklorist uncovers the truth of the hospital’s unorthodox methods, they discover the place may have far more to do with the faeries than they first believed. There are more than stories to be found within its walls. Against a psychedelic seventies backdrop of prog rock and Romantics, the researcher must untangle the mystery of their own mind and their sister’s death before their own dark thoughts overwhelm them.

Genres: Fiction, Fae, Fantasy

256 pages, Kindle Edition

Published July 31, 2020

About the author

Neil Rushton attained a PhD from Trinity College, University of Cambridge (Archaeology/History) in 2002. He is now a freelance writer, who has published on a wide range of subjects from castle fortification to folklore. His first novel, Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun, was published in 2016. Dead but Dreaming is his second novel and brings together his research into folklore, social history and the philosophy of consciousness.

Reviews

[Ard · Rating 4 out of 5]

A post-graduate student is sent out to collect the ever-dwindling memories of folk stories about faeries in Britain. He is stationed in, of all places, a special department of a mental hospital, run by an enigmatic psychiatrist with an uncanny talent for reading thoughts. The psychiatrist, his team and even some of the patients prove instrumental in not only getting to the truth about the ancient faery folk, but also to healing, wholeness and states of consciousness unheard of.

This book grabbed me before I had even started reading. Might have been the cover, or maybe it was the promise of an intoxicating novel featuring faeries, always a tricky but tantalizing subject. I wasn’t disappointed. It’s a beautiful story, wonderfully told, subtle and mesmerizing, maybe not perfect but indeed something really special. It was still on my mind days after finishing it.

[Ramesh Kolli · Rating 5 out of 5]

enjoyed Dead but Dreaming a lot. It’s a multi-layered story told in a first-person narrative, that follows a young folklorist who travels into the English countryside to take testimonies about the faeries from the populace. It is set in 1970 and the period ambience is well invoked through some subtle details and a musical backdrop of prog and psychedelia. Most of the action takes place in and around a psychiatric hospital where the main protagonist is staying, and I particularly enjoyed the depictions of how the patients with multiple personality disorder (apparently called Hysterical Neurosis Dissociative Type in 1970) were treated. It soon becomes apparent that the head psychiatrist, Albé, has some unorthodox methods for treating patients, which are eventually used on the folklorist. The main theme of the story is about consciousness and what can happen to it when it becomes altered from normality. There are some striking scenes where minds appear to become intertwined (nicely rendered in the present tense - most of the narrative is in the past tense), and the brief appearances by the supernatural faeries are written with astute prose. There are many literary references throughout, perhaps most importantly to Lord Byron - many of the characters mirror people from his life, and Albé (Byron’s nickname) seems to be a strange, anomalous reincarnation of the poet, who uses Byron’s language and poetry. This all leads to a dreamlike atmosphere, but the story is rooted in the emotional outlook of the main character, and there are generous amounts of sly humour thrown in. There are also a couple of clever twists, one of which will drop your jaw if you don’t pick up the clues before it happens. This is a skilfully plotted and beautifully written novel. It is unconventional but all the better for that, and I’d thoroughly recommend it.

[Jasmine Bhairon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dead but dreaming by Neil Rushton follows the story of Blondie, a folklorist visiting a psychiatric hospital who learns far more than they expected to. Blondies' story of dealing with grief is told in a fantastic and thoroughly enjoyable way. The language and scenery used to tell the tale creates an extremely atmospheric and immersive experience for the reader. The idea of mixing a story of folklore, mental illness, and struggling with bereavement seems farfetched at first, but the author executes the use of the themes incredibly well to create an immersive and otherworldly experience, whilst also staying true to the very real challenges people face on a daily basis. I particularly enjoyed the emphasis of the gothic elements as well as the nods to Lord Byron. The numerous characters are multifaceted and genuinely interesting beings who all have their own part to play. I found the novel to be a very quick and easy read without taking away from the complexities of the storyline and I would recommend this novel to anyone with an interest in the themes mentioned.

Note- I was provided with a virtual copy of this book in order to provide an unbiased, honest review. All opinions stated are my own

[Jess · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was recommended to me by a friend. I'm glad they did, because it is fantastic. It's not my usual reading matter, but the author has pulled off something spectacular here. The story is set in 1970 and the attention to detail of the time period is exquisite. I'm slightly obsessed by the 1970s and so I checked all the details, and they are all spot on, down to the very night an episode of Star Trek was aired on the BBC - there is a chapter where the characters are all watching it. This impressed me. But more impressive is the complexity of the story. I note some other reviewers did not like this, but to me it was a strength. The author embraces big subjects: solipsism, the nature of reality, consciousness, multiple personality disorder et al. This is difficult to do, but, partly because the story is told in the first person, I felt immersed in the philosophical and esoteric ideas being investigated. The first-person character immediately elicits sympathy, and I was with them all the way, especially as so many of their issues correlate with my own. Although even my sympathy did not prepare me for the bombshell plot twist about 3/4 of the way through. There are subtle clues to it, but woah, I laughed and recoiled at the same time when it happened. I also laughed at much of the humour in the story, and I cried many times, especially at the end. Anyone interested in Lord Byron, faerie folklore, mental illness and 1970's culture will get much from this wonderful novel, which is unlike anything else I've ever read. And, although a book should not be judged by its cover, the cover is gorgeous. It actually embodies several elements of the story. Bravo to the author and the artist.

[Kirsty Richards · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5* rating!
A captivating psychological fantasy book set during the 1970s in a psychiatric ward. Rushton merging of folklore and psychology really intrigued me, merging what is real and what is an illusion. Rushton provides an in-depth view of the fragile make-up of the human mind drawing specifically on elements of the era. The lack of understanding of the psychology of the mind during the 70s is used cleverly to allowed the belief in Rushton’s creation of the Faeries. Rushton’s twists and turns throughout the novel kept me turning back over chapters I have read to comprehend what happened. I defiantly think that I would be able to appreciate it in a different way when I read it again! At times I found the novel slightly confusing by the sheer number of ideas that Rushton explores. I think that some of the ideas could have broken down or simplified just so they don’t detract from the pace of the story. I also, found Rushton’s writing style to be quite gothic in nature which I do not typically read. However, as you delve further into the novel I did adapt to his style of writing and found it easier to follow.
*Disclaimer – I was given this book as part of a Rowanvale Book advance reader group. I wasn’t paid and all opinions are honest and my own

[Sophie · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Dead But Dreaming’ is a compelling read that merges psychology and fantasy even to the point that the confines of reality are questioned. Set in a 1970s psychiatric ward, the novel examines a number of ideas, such as Dissociative Identity Disorder, personal trauma and the concept of multiple consciousnesses.

The plot revolves around the character of Blondie, an androgynous folklorist. Whilst staying at the hospital, they are introduced to the unorthodox treatment methods used to treat DID – methods that hinge on a mysterious drug named Orchid-24. Blondie soon comes to realise that the realms of folklore and psychology may not be unalike. In the process, they are forced to face their own issues and grow as a person. The plot twists are genuinely surprising and I felt truly immersed in the characters’ world.

However, I was at times confused by the sheer multitude of ideas encompassed in the novel. Many of the concepts are not explored in much depth, meaning that their impact is often overshadowed by bigger ideas more significant to the plot. I would have been interested to read more about the unusual relationship between Albé and Augusta or the origin of Blondie’s tick. The book is dedicated to Lord Byron yet on the whole, the references are subtle and forgettable. Instead of adding to the novel, I felt that theses intricacies were often written for convenience in preparation for an exciting twist.

Overall, this is a brilliant, thought-provoking book that explores the ‘dark place’ of the mind with wit and sensitivity. Unfortunately, the story is occasionally overcomplicated with an excess of complex ideas.

(This review was collected as part of an ARC program, meaning I was sent a free copy of the book in order to give my honest opinion. The thoughts expressed in this review are objective and my own.)

[Cornelia Benavidez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Neil Rushton's new novel is an eye and heart opening intellectual sexy ride of a book. Rushton 's pen paints a word-scape of unique characters that are pushing intellectual, philosophical, emotional as well as magical boundaries in the midst of tragedy, desire, love and the quest for the truths of our human journey. A tasty fare for those that love reading.

[Lois Ferns · Rating 5 out of 5]

‘Dead But Dreaming’ has probably been one of the most interesting and thought-provoking books I have read in awhile. The themes of dreams and consciousness alongside the setting of the mental hospital and fantastical beings and scenarios really had me questioning what was real and illusion; and I found this to be very effective as a plot device as I was constantly questioning if it was the main character, Blondie, or those around her in the hospital who were delusional.

I also really liked the choice for the psychiatrist, Albé, to have patients with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), especially since DID is very under-represented in the media and in the education system, and it is evident that Rushton has put a lot of research into the disorder and given it fair representation and accurate opinions for the time period it is set in, which I as a reader appreciated.

I also loved the varying tones and atmospheres Rushton portrayed; the drama was intense, the moments of sadness had me welling up, and the humour was quirky and witty. The elements of romance were unexpected but enjoyable and added an extra element of drama to the narrative.

I would definitely recommend this book for those who love fantasy but are looking for something different. The elements of philosophical contemplation and the psychological narrative are something I have not come across being combined with fantasy before, and I really enjoyed this incorporation of genres.

*Disclaimer - I was sent this novel by Rowanvale Books to review, however, I was not paid to do so and these opinions are completely my own and are honest and unbiased*

[Loukie Adlem · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like a book that hooks me right away. The opening paragraphs of Dead but Dreaming lay two delicacies before the reader: faeries and death.

This is irresistible. You turn the page and tick-tock, you’re caught. There is no question of putting down the book after that.

At its heart this is a riveting story of love and redemption. While the author weaves in a wide range of ideas and philosophies with his customary erudition, it doesn’t bog down the pace. The ideas flow naturally from the characters’ experiences and preoccupations, while the story clips along, laying one mystery after the other before the reader.

What happened to Blondie’s sister? That is resolved, eventually, but long before that several other lesser and greater mysteries have developed, each propelling the story forward. Every character has their place in the story, from the wild Irishman Moore to the damaged Epsilon and to the person at the very heart of the story, Fernanda. To say more would be to spoil the experience for the reader, I will thus only state that I felt that I knew these people, and that I hope, in another world, I might.
Woven through are details from the 1970s, music from bands like Van der Graaf Generator and Pink Floyd, the TV series Star Trek with William Shatner as Captain Kirk, right down to the bakelite phone they use. These details grounded the story, made it vivid and real.

I found Dead but Dreaming more accessible than the author’s previous book, Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun. The themes are similar, but Dead but Dreaming is lighter in tone and conveys a deep hope that there is, and always will be, something to live for. And definitely something to die for.

Finally, kudos to the cover artist, Ylenia Viola, for one of the most perfect covers for a book I’ve seen. Is it a flower? Dancing figures? Read the book and find out.

[Cameron · Rating 4 out of 5]

After completing the review copy of Dead But Dreaming, I can conclude it offers a refreshing, in-depth analysis of the fragile workings of the human mind, balancing the lives of the fictional psychiatric hospital's patients on a wire that is truly believable, whilst simultaneously exploring the speculative side to psychology, in a very Lovecraftian manner. In an era where the philosophy of one's mind was less understood than today, Rushton is able to get away with the questions he poses to his readers, such as the genuineness of his Faeries, of which some answers are barely touched upon and left to the speculation of your own mind. Getting lost in the cogs of someone else's brain seriously prompts you to re-evaluate your own values.

This completely original narrative deserves to be read by anyone and everyone, working not only as a time passing, satisfying story, but as a guide and an encouragement to explore who you are and question what could be.

[Colleen Chesebro · Rating 5 out of 5]

A faery folklorist arrives at a rural mental hospital in the UK countryside to compile a collection of paranormal accounts from the local residents in the surrounding area involving their contact with faeries. The doctor’s nickname this folklorist, Blondie; and before long, their personal life and professional life intertwine through this tale of grief and loss.

They quickly expose Blondie to patients with multiple personalities, all supervised under the care of Dr. Albé, who can sense one’s thoughts. If that isn’t disquieting enough, Blondie discovers the hospital practices some unusual methods for helping the patients deal with their illness. Eventually, it becomes apparent the hospital knows far more about faeries than anyone would have ever suspected.

Hang on to your hats… this book has nothing to do with the Victorian version of faeries. Rushton’s faeries are purer and agree with my in-depth research on the topic. In his eyes, these faeries resemble an alien life form, which makes sense. They often portray the otherworld as another realm or dimension of reality. Be sure to open your mind to the possibilities…

Dead But Dreaming will have you examining the depths of human consciousness and supernatural solipsism, which is the philosophical idea that only one’s mind exists. This theory of solipsism holds that knowledge of anything outside of one’s own mind is unsure; the external world and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind. Is it possible that people who can see faeries suffer from some kind of psychosis? Or does the real world overlap with other realms?

But yet, the book is a tale of love and redemption. Rushton incorporates a wide range of ideas and philosophies that will make you speculate about your own reality. The story flows, laying open one mystery after the other as the reader explores the concepts and relationships between myths, dreams, life, and death.

This was an excellent read. Once I started reading, I couldn’t put the book down. I can truthfully say that for five nights, this book held me captive. Thoughts of faeries and the Otherworld still haunt my dreams!

[Bethnoir · Rating 4 out of 5]

A haunted postgraduate student stays in the grounds of a rural mental hospital in order to facilitate the collection folklore tales from elderly local residents. Their personal and professional life become tangled as they mix with the forceful and eccentric leader of an experimental treatment centre for Dissociative Identity Disorder cases.

The damaged and weakened main character, Blondie spends much of their time reliving a traumatic past event and seems to sleepwalk through the reality of their existence, speaking hesitantly and crying often, allowing others to control their environment. Their salvation lies in a magical agent which allows them to be guided through layers of reality not usually available.

I enjoyed pondering the philosophical and psychological implications of accessing usually hidden layers of reality and hoped the book would explore this in more depth. However I can do that on my own time.

The plot takes some unexpected turns, moving away from the focus on fairies and magic, to less arcane activities, but is ultimately satisfying.

I enjoyed this book very much, the music mentioned in it provided a wonderful soundtrack, it made me think about consensus reality, the collective unconscious and mental health, which are things I don't always have time to contemplate and I am grateful to it for that and the ride back to the 1970s.

[Victoria · Rating 5 out of 5]

After several years enjoying Neil Rushton's WordPress blog, I finally bought his 2nd novel of the same title on Amazon. Neil's story was entertaining, enjoyable, surreal and disturbing at times, and I grew very fond of its characters. The plot involves loss, neurosis, and alternate realities with a surprise about half way through. If your interests include psychology, fairyland and good writing, you should grab this book.

[Adele Marie Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dead but Dreaming by Neil Rushton is a fantastic read. You are immediately drawn into the main character, Blondie's world. Where they had been and where they were going. The characters are so well drawn that I found myself hanging on every conversation they had with Blondie, looking for the real message beneath the words. Yes, this book really draws you inside itself. The folklore, most of it was known to me over the years of hearing stories and tales from elders, but the way it was processed in the writing gripped me. I can't say too much because I don't want to give away any spoilers. Neil is a wonderful writer, painting the scenery and characters with words worthy of an artist. Even if you have never wondered about faeries or the world of Faery this novel stands alone as a fantastic psychological thriller. I will read this novel again.

[Leslie Zehr · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed this book! I don’t often read novels because I feel real life so interesting that I mainly read nonfiction. Neil has done an excellent job of integrating his background in fairy lore, with emerging ideas about consciousness and lucid dreaming on the set of an exciting story that makes us curious and makes us think about the nature of reality.

[Caitlin Chattoe · Rating 2 out of 5]

Trigger Warnings for the review and this book: mentions of paedophilia, rape, incest, drug abuse and mental illness.

This book tries; it really does. It’s certainly an ambitious novel, but one so bogged down in superficial, depthless themes and poorly-explored philosophical rambling that one can’t seem to figure out what, exactly, the book is about.

Spoilers Ahead:

On a surface level, Dead But Dreaming is an exploration of grief navigated by our protagonist, Blondie, whose sister (simply called Sis) died in a tragic car accident before the beginning of the book. Blondie is then thrust into the world and philosophies of the Romantic poets, who run a specialised care unit (called TRU) in an asylum in the 1970s. To top it off, Blondie’s interactions with the faerie world illuminate a possible afterlife for Sis and help Blondie come to terms with her death.

If this sounds like A Lot, that’s because it is. Despite how intertwined they are in the overarching plot, the concepts of the modern Romantic poets and the gradual discovery of the faerie world seem laughably interdependent from one another. The book may have benefited from picking just one of these concepts to run with, or focus on with greater intensity, since with the wordcount being quite short neither world is explored in great detail. This makes the idea of the staff and patients at TRU being poorly disguised figures of the Romanticism era seem little more than set-dressing, since with the exception of Albé (whose clubfoot and incestuous behaviours mark him as the incorrigible Lord Byron) none of the Romantic characters are truly disseminated by the text, and many only serve as glorified cameos. The consequences of the Romantic theme are barely there, and is especially an odd choice revolving the rural, lower class faerie tradition around the primarily middle-high class characters of the Romantic poets. This discrepancy is not touched upon, and even when the TRU staff interact with the world of the rural locals they still remain distinctly separate. TRU’s rivalry with Dr Dawkins (a rather half-hearted attempt at pitting Romantic enlightenment against scientific logicism) only truly factors into the text at moments of much needed narrative thrust. Author Neil Rushton tries to recreate the social justice atmosphere of the Romanticism era’s American and French revolutions that inspired so much Romantic poetry using the rise of socialism in South America but again, this is primarily set-dressing, barely there and commented on infrequently with little to tie it back into the Romantic theme. A further annoyance is the Romanticism parallels becoming much more blatant in the final few chapters of the book, with stanzas of Byronic poetry appearing apropos of very little in the eleventh hour and Blondie outright calling Albé by the name Byron. At this point the imagery is so explicit it was downright insulting. My main gripe with this concept is how shallow it feels in practice. The most the Romantic presence contributes to the narrative and the themes of depression and faerie is a lot of pseudo-philosophy and getting high, which could just as easily have been provided by original characters. The people at TRU are enjoyable to read for the most part, and are usually more entertaining than the faerie aspect of the text.

The faerie world that the protagonist experiences numerous times in the books is atmospheric and dreamlike. The effectiveness in the writing of the dream sequences and faerie-world experiences are emphasised by the switch to present tense. Rushton does an effective job of disorienting the reader during the ventures into the faerie world using this tactic, though it felt that some of the recurring motifs (such as Van der Graaf Generator) got old quite fast and lost their efficacy at drawing the reader into the dream. The faeries themselves are what you would expect, and I think Rushton does a decent job of depicting this culture of oral storytelling, particularly the generational aspects of it. Again, however, this suffers from there being too much stuff in the book. As it is, the protagonist never really gets embroiled in the community, and so the text isn’t really given an opportunity to build an ambience around the faerie culture of the rural village. As it is, the text quickly pops over for a bit of a chin-wagging with hardly-realised local characters before returning to the upper-middle-class Romantics that it seems more interested in. Despite faerie traditions ostensibly being so important to the text, local culture is barely touched upon and is essentially exoticized by the tourist-y feel of the narrative. The text also feels suspiciously biased in depicting the rural community, those who have strong connections to faerie lore passed through generations, as relatively clueless and removed from the faerie world as opposed to the upper-class Albé and co.: intellectuals who view the faerie world as something to exploit in the name of psychiatry.

Ostensibly, the staff at TRU are focused on treating Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), a response to trauma that fractures the psychology of a single person into multiple identities. The group of identities is often called a system, with the pre-trauma identity known as the host with the numerous other identities known as alters. Despite the common misconception, alters are not other ‘personalities’ of the host, and are in fact their own individuals who can learn to cohabit together as a system. This book ignores these basic facts of the disorder. It can be argued that the novel’s 70s backdrop explains the simplistic and damaging approach to DID by the characters, but much like the issue of incest, the text shies away from critiquing the behaviours of Albé in any meaningful way. Rather than approaching the patients with something that will help them develop coping mechanisms and learning to live with their disorder, our intrepid Byron utilises the magical drugs of the fairies to effectively ‘cure’ someone of their DID. As noted before, alters are their own people – though they may ‘integrate’ back into the host naturally over time as the system heals from their trauma. The text waves away these basic concepts in order to depict a maliciously ignorant stereotype of DID that separates systems into ‘good’ and ‘evil’ alters, portraying a disorder that can simply be ‘cured’ if the ‘evil’ alters are purged. Not only are all the DID patients in the text depicted as a danger to society because of their disorder, but that they are particularly dangerous to children as two of the three DID patients have ‘evil’ alters that actively abuse children. Albé, with the help of the faerie macguffin, enters his patients minds and forcibly excises the bad alters, rather than helping the patients heal from their trauma. Even the book’s feeble attempts at a sympathetic rendering of DID only make its tone-deafness as stark as that of M. Night Shyamalan’s Split. The portrayal of seemingly ‘evil’ alters that Albé can apparently destroy is a rather chilling take on the disorder: that someone with DID can be ‘fixed’ only with a bit of metaphysical murder. It comes as laughably insulting at the end of the book when Albé says ‘There will continue to be people with dissociative disorders and they will continue to need understanding from within the psychiatric profession.’, completely unironically (p. 266). Nowhere in the text is there any actual effort to ‘understand’ DID, only attempts at destroying systems, bypassing the therapy and healing from trauma that is truly important to living with DID by using the magical faerie cheat code. The closest the book comes to analysing the consequences of such an approach is when a former patient rapes a child after being discharged from the hospital. At no point does the text ruminate on how TRU’s actions contributed to this behaviour, even when they are being investigated by the police, the responsibility for the actions of their previous patient was laid at Dr Dawkin’s feet. The climax of the book is not a realisation that the actions of the characters were wrong and potentially damaging to many of their patients, but is instead a bittersweet return to the real world with Blondie finally uncritically accepting of Albé’s care. The unironic acceptance of the ideologies of the characters is irresponsible, and I would implore readers to not take the depictions of DID in this text as close to truth.

As noted above, the text is virtually uncritical of the TRU staff, which presents a missed opportunity to question the ideologies of the characters, particularly because not doing so depicts them as massive hypocrites. The text is all too happy to morally judge the paedophilic trauma responses of abuse survivors as well as the incestuous acts of Fernanda’s father, presenting their sexually abusive behaviours as a problem to be cured, yet refuses to really view Albé’s relationship to his half-sister Augusta with the same lens. Byron can seemingly do no wrong to this writer, as the incestuous relationship garnered out of a trauma response is not judged or otherwise dissected by the text, making it come across as simply a character quirk with some disturbing parallels to Blondie’s own familial closeness. Albé and Augusta start a relationship as part of a shared trauma response. In spite of the centrality of mental health, healing, and the dangers of sexual abuse in the text, Albé’s and Augusta’s actions barely factor into these themes. At no point does the text discuss whether this relationship is an issue, whether it is abusive due to the trauma involved, and is ultimately superfluous because of this failure of depth.

The main female characters of the text fall into three distinct stereotypical categories: a nurturing, maternal figure, a distressed damsel, and exotic foreigner. Much like the majority of the themes the text attempts to approach, the women that Blondie interacts with are relatively depthless. The text spends much more time with the male characters, whose personalities are varied, with ups and downs, with a closer motivational connection to the main plot. The few prominent women in comparison are relatively one-note. Fernanda never truly shakes off the shackles of blatant orientalism, her status as foreigner seemingly going hand-in-hand with her knowledge of the faerie realm. What’s more, her entire narrative arc is entirely in service to Blondie’s journey through grief. This coalesces when the book takes a sharp left-turn into comedy in the childishly-written sex scene between Fernanda and Blondie. A sexual experience with the exotic foreigner gives Blondie more confidence, pushing the protagonist down the path to emotional healing, and once Fernanda has served her purpose of aiding Blondie, she dies. Augusta’s single personality trait is motherly. Each interaction with Augusta is focused on caring for our protagonist, lots of tender touches and calm advice. This characterisation culminates in her pregnancy in the end of the book. It is clear that the main women – Caroline, Augusta and Fernanda and arguably Sis – fit into categories of socially acceptable womanhood. The primary issue with Caroline is that her alter, Caro, is not a socially acceptable depiction of a woman. She is loud and aggressive, refuses to cater to men and has an abrasive personality. Caroline is ‘fixed’ by Albé, who banishes Caro to return Caroline to a purely innocent (easily manipulated) state, and she is so grateful that she calls Albé God, re-instating the socially accepted gender dynamics of the 20th and 19th centuries. It’s a crying shame, too (because as with all things Albé’s actions are left unquestioned), since the text tries so hard to imitate the radical thought of the Romantic period such as in the use of drugs, the questioning of scientific authority, in LGBTQ issues and political progressivism. And yet, just like the original Star Trek as featured in the text, it falls at the first hurdle by constantly conforming to outdated gender dynamics.

Blondie is not exempt from this either, despite being gay herself and the protagonist. I would argue that Blondie suffers as a character most acutely from this problem. Throughout the vast majority of the novel Rushton endeavours to use gender neutral language in reference to Blondie, avoiding details about her appearance. Realistically, I paid attention to this and assumed Blondie was a nonbinary protagonist. When Blondie was revealed as a cis woman in an awkward coming out scene in the eleventh hour of the book I felt like I had my time wasted. Perhaps Rushton was attempting a ‘gotcha’ moment for people who would assume in cases of ambiguous language that the protagonist is a man, but in practice it was a frustrating moment in which characterisation felt sacrificed in order to make a half-baked point. Ultimately there was no purpose to the gender-neutral language of the book aside from a meta attempt at being progressive, and so in order to keep the reveal a secret until the end the book refuses to actually explore any intrinsic elements of Blondie’s identity (such as gender or lack thereof). The fact that Blondie’s issues with sexuality and gender are only foregrounded as the book is coming to a close isn’t a very good sign, since up until this point Blondie has been defined by her depression and anxiety, as well as her role of being a vehicle to explore this world, and so by the time she actually has a discussion about her gender and sexuality I couldn’t be driven to care, and the reveal felt frivolous to the rest of the narrative since it came too late to really mean anything.

The book has a lot of potential, but barely touches on the potential in the myriad concepts that carry the book. There were many missed opportunities in which interesting ideas just weren’t given the time and space to breathe. The writing is good; it’s relatively well-paced; there were only one or two instances that felt like ‘filler’, but structurally the novel is quite sound. Unfortunately the issues with content are too weighty to be easily ignored. Rushton should look into narrowing down his main concepts into something more manageable for a 280 page book in his future endeavours.

I recieved an advance review copy of this novel from Rowanvale Books.

[Harry Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dead but Dreaming is a pleasant, nuanced and captivating novel by Neil Rushton which details a folklore researcher's brief but exhaustive stint at a psychiatric hospital, following the death of their sister and under the instruction of their university professor.

Dead but Dreaming is (pleasingly) gripping and engaging, albeit at times a little hard to follow - though whether this is due to its subject matter or something else is to be disputed. I found that I was intrigued with the delivery of scenes and events, dialogue, and character development, though also found that I would have to read back a couple of pages to ensure myself of the scene's physical or metaphysical reality (which, whilst this may have been purposeful, at times proved to be disorienting).

Whilst more elaborate delvings into the workings/potential existence of faeries/magic or philosophical debates about existence/reality itself could have been worked into the plot or novel to fully flesh out its subject, I was nevertheless pleased with what was given and was satisfied with the content, problems, and resolutions that constituted the novel's plot. In that same respect, however, I suppose an argument could be made that either the appetite for further knowledge is something the book aims to culture in its reader or that neither topic is given full spotlight in order to deftly question the ideology of both simultaneously as oppositional concepts.

Filled with interesting and justifiable characters, vibrant and opportune detail, and delivered with meritable literary skill and, fittingly, near-magical language, Rushton promises a revelatory journey into an expansive, yet distorted, arcane realm enmeshed with the world as we think we know it and fulfils that created desire to an acknowledgeable and rewarding extent.

*I received this book as part of an ARC service provided by the book's publisher. I am, however, under no obligation to write or post this review, and thus am doing this of my own accord.*

[Merthin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have read about faeries in folklore before, but this book combines the folkloric perspective with the psychological and philosophical. There is plenty of speculation, but this is plausible and thought-provoking. The traumatized narrator is richly evoked and relatable. Overall, this is a joy to read. I look forward to Rushton's next novel.

[Emma Natalie · Rating 2 out of 5]

'Dead but Dreaming' makes for an intriguing and atmospheric read. Set in rural 1970s England, the novel follows its protagonist, Blondie, on a peculiar assignment: to collect anecdotal information surrounding local folkloric beliefs. However, Blondie soon discovers that the psychiatric institution in which they are staying holds secrets that challenge the very foundations of reality as they know it. Moving and, at times, deeply disturbing, this novel will be of interest to those wishing to explore concepts such as reality, consciousness and sanity from a creative, literary and philosophical perspective. Those with an interest in the life and works of Lord Byron will also likely take something away from this book. However, anyone with experience of childhood abuse may wish to proceed with caution, as some of the themes explored may be distressing.

Rushton makes interesting use of tenses and form in order to palpably convey the intensity of certain situations or states of consciousness. The narrative also constructs some thought-provoking commentary on the concepts of individuality and the mind, especially in relation to mental illness. Rushton’s extensive knowledge of philosophy and folklore is evident. However, the novel’s representation of people with Dissociative Identity Disorder (referred to in the novel, with historical accuracy, as ‘Hysterical Neurosis, Dissociative Type’) is potentially problematic given the huge stigma surrounding DID. Despite the novel’s commendable incorporation of research into the disorder and its links to childhood trauma, as well as a clear position of compassion for those affected by it, I feel that certain elements of the plot unfortunately feed into the pervasive stigma that those with DID are likely to pose a risk to society.

In terms of prosaic quality, there is some noticeable overuse and repetition of certain words and phrases, particularly within sections of dialogue which consequently did not read authentically. I also found some of the philosophical concepts and theories to be over-explained, seeming almost ‘hammered home’ in places, thus leaving little room for speculation or reflection. The style of the pose incorporates a mixture of formality, lyricism and colloquialism to the point of interfering with the reader’s immersion. The development of the plot also seemed rushed in places.

Ultimately, 'Dead but Dreaming' is a conceptually interesting and experimental novel with potential, which unfortunately suffers in places in terms of its execution.

DISCLAIMER: I received an Advanced Review Copy of this novel from Rowanvale Books. I have not been paid or forced to provide this review and it contains my own unbiased opinions.

[Roy McCarthy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a super read for anybody willing to read it with an open mind as to whether our earthly, everyday reality is in fact the only reality. Rushton is a folklore researcher and a faerie experiencer and in this inventive novel he explores the possibilities of alternative realities, whether the mind and consciousness exist independent of the body, if there are places where you and I might meet which are not earthbound, how departed spirits might reconnect with us, or perhaps where there is an alternative spirit world or worlds where we all might meet again. He discusses how memories distort, disappear and reappear as false memories. All this and more the author discusses through the device of the psychiatric wing of a hospital and a crew of offbeat and strange characters. Humorous, thoughtful, sometimes vulgar, often poignant. A simple but effective twist concerning the narrator suddenly casts a new aspect on the story's direction of travel. And the final scenes could not have been written any better and we are left on a joyous upnote and with comfort for those who hope to meet their loved ones someday beyond the grave. Well written indeed Neil.

[Lisa Page · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this book in 2025 feels especially intriguing. It resonates with themes found in Richard Schwartz’s Internal Family Systems, the emerging research on psychedelics in psychotherapy, and even Jacques Vallée’s Passport to Magonia (1969). It invites the question: Do we live alongside another race of beings, with access to dimensions we glimpse only in dreams?

I found this book, at its heart, to be about the dead—how we encounter them, and whether those encounters can heal us. Do we need a guide to reach the world of the dead? Perhaps the Fae, a sacred plant, or the Jungian symbols of our own dreams—or some mysterious weaving of them all? This story offers more than entertainment. It poses questions worth lingering over, and opens a doorway to the Mystery, wrapped in an engaging and beautifully told tale.

[Christine Best · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most original books I’ve read in some time. I don’t really know how to classify it. It’s not folk horror, nor urban fantasy, nor a psychological thriller.Every time you think you identify a trope, it dissolves. A real must for anyone interested in folklore, or the paranormal.