There are fictional towns and fictional monsters, but there are times when those fictional monsters escape their towns, flee the edges of the page or film cells they’re trapped within; unshackled, they stalk freely into your subconscious, become fully fleshed monstrosities that there is no hiding from.
You can cower.
You can hide.
You can scream.
But one thing you can’t do is escape them when they come for you.
Haddonfield, Springwood, Camp Crystal Lake, Woodsboro, Fuller – these places are synonymous with horror, with killers, with boogeymen and monsters (of the mind, as well as the flesh), and now we can add a new town to that list.
Samhattan, Michigan; and the legend of ‘Daphne’.
Josh Malerman delivers a heart-pounding, pulse-shredding, nerve-wracking beast of a book. A slasher story, which in my humble opinion blows all the competition out of the water. I’ve read a few slasher books in my time (most recently My Heart Is A Chainsaw and The Boatmore Butcher series – both fabulous in their own rights) but none hold a candle to this sublime iteration and much-needed addition to the slasher genre.
But to call it a slasher novel, might cheapen it slightly (don’t get me wrong, I love slashers – watching them, getting scared by them, reading them – it’s a guilty pleasure, one that I know what I’m getting and accept it gladly). What I mean is that this book is more than its parts, more than the conventions that typically make up a slasher book/movie - it almost transcends the genre whilst keeping its feet firmly planted in that blood-soaked soil we know so well.
There are big themes tackled within ‘Daphne’, themes of mental health, anxiety, belonging, acceptance, friendship, adoration, friendship (so much of it I mentioned it twice), doubt and regrets – and our protagonist, Kit Lamb, is the lens that we see the world through. She’s the person we see tackling these big topics, these gigantic obstacles in her life, but one of the obstacles that won’t be moved, that can’t be moved, that is obdurate is Daphne – and she’s coming for Kit.
We get given all the cards upfront from Malerman – there is nothing hidden in this story. From the opening pages we know instantly where we’re heading, and what course our fearless but also anxious Kit Lamb is on (and the members of the girls' basketball team). Knowing all this upfront frees us in surrendering our lives, and Kit’s life, her friend’s lives into Malerman’s hands.
I’ve come to trust Malerman like I trust King. I’ll go wherever both are willing to take me, surrendering any preconceptions at the door of the story, and that trust has never been abused or misplaced and ‘Daphne’ is another rip-roaring ride that never lets up from page one. I devoured the book in two days, and that my friend is the highest compliment I can offer Malerman and his work. I wanted to pace myself, enjoy every word, linger on the sentences and story; you see, I’ve waited months for this book to arrive, knowing it’ll be a while until the next book, but I ended up killing it in less than two days, such is the brilliance on the page and I loved murdering ‘Daphne’.
The reason for finishing it so quickly is in part to Malerman’s fabulous and unique story, quite unlike any slasher you’ve ever seen or read. But Malerman was able to conjure something special here, he’s been able to deftly craft the thrills and spills, the pacing, the beats, the feel of a slasher film and commit all of this to the page; the energy of the book is something to admire, it’s incredible. There were jump scares (that actually made me jump), there were moments of fear, dread, tension, and anxiety that made my breathing quicken. But there is a thread, a note of unease which is woven right the way through the whole story, and behind it all, pulling the strings is Malerman - he’s standing there in the shadows orchestrating the most wonderful of symphonies.
There are pit stops along the way, moments to pause and savour the book, delivered to us in Kit’s diary entries – where we see clearly the pain, the suffering, the python-like anxiety that plagues her and crushes her. Over time and seeing the inner workings of Kit’s mind, we see how heavy is the head that wears the crown and how obdurate the voice of the rim is, how doggedly it pursues her after it answered her question when she sank the shot of her life. During these diary entries, we also get treated to an incredible piece of writing, where Kit calls 911 on herself; it’s exceptional and mentioned further in the afterword. This happened to Malerman, and knowing that makes this scene, the words on the page all the more hard-hitting, the way in which he paints this traumatic and life-changing experience, the gravity it holds – is truly transformative for the reader.
I’d also like to note here how well Malerman was able to write about anxiety. I live in a house with a wife who is plagued by anxiety, a daughter who too shares that crushing weight with her mother, and at times it is hard for me to understand much of their pain and suffering. How the fingers of this beast bedaub everything with anxious, greasy smears. How it uproots new shoots of hope and applies pressure to a person’s very being, crushing mind, body and soul. But Malerman through this remarkable book – ‘Daphne’ – has been able to shed some much-needed light on a subject many still feel awkward talking about, he’s been able to get me to see anxiety as it is for those that suffer it, and that is the sign of a masterful storyteller.
Daphne – our antagonist, is a monster like no other; she’s the whisper in the wind, the hushed voices in the playground, the graffiti on the wall, the shadow at your side – and she’s getting stronger. Malerman has successfully crafted a monster that is truly something to fear.
I’ve said too much, and so I must sign off. I’ll leave you here before I give any more credence to her for I fear she will be near, as she always is, the name on the tip of my tongue that I dread to speak… I can smell the whiskey and cigarettes as I type this.
Be safe.
Be well.
But whatever you do, don’t talk about Daphne.