Preamble
I previously read The Starving, the first book in a series known as The Weston Records. I had no idea that this was coming when I read the first book – it was a complete story on its own. The protagonist survived, though, and I suppose like any good horror flick (which is what this series feels like), where there is a surviving protagonist, there is room for a sequel.
And what a sequel.
A note about my reviews: I consider myself an appreciator, not a critic. I know first-hand what goes into the creation of art – the blood, the sweat, the tears, the risk. I also know that art appreciation is subjective and lernt good what mama tell’t me – if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I’m not a school marm grading a spelling test – I’m a reader who enjoys reading. If a book is entertaining, well-written, and I get absorbed into it, five out of five. I have gone as low as three stars – anything less than that and I will not review a book (chances are I DNFed anyway). Regardless, I wouldn’t even put a star rating system on my reviews but for the reality of storefronts like Amazon.
Take from that what you will.
Review – 5/5
I’ve read all of Dobbin’s novels at this point – and there are three. The first was The Starving, the first book in The Weston Records series, then there was The Broken Spire, a fun little romp through a fantasy world, and now I have completed The Risen, which continues with the story of Bill Weston, the somewhat strong and silent cowboy type from The Starving.
At the end of the first book, Weston was ravaged by a mhuwe, which can be safely compared with a wendigo for our purposes. Basically, a man who eats man flesh becomes a mhuwe, a vampire-like fiend that can’t stop, won’t stop. Weston’s gift from the beast was a throbbing shoulder wound that healed kind of nastily, with a purple scar that causes him untold amounts of pain as the story progresses.
Maybe it’s because I just finished re-watching FX’s The Strain (criminally underrated vampire series with plenty of mythological subtext – seriously, it’s top notch), but I was waiting for Weston to ‘turn’ throughout the entire story. Knowing Dobbin’s quality of writing, I figured that the author could just use that trope to his advantage, maybe have Weston fighting his urge to consume ye olde man flesh throughout the novel, but the story doesn’t go that way – at least not all the way. Dobbin tantalizes us throughout, owing to a blurb that suggests same, blinding pain and dreams of his past, and the sudden appearance of ravaged corpses in Weston’s new stomping ground of Millwood.
After the last book, exception to Strider’s riddle Weston wanders pretty much because he is lost. Collapsing in the desert, he awakes in Millwood thanks to the intervention of good old nun Sister Mejia, and it turns out that the only way out (without expiring in the desert) is to hop on the next train out of town. Which won’t be for a week. So, he has time to kill whilst waiting, and turns out someone, or something else has people to kill, because the bodies start to pile up.
Like the first book, it’s largely mystery as well as horror, so I won’t spoil it. Things take a little while to build up speed but once the middle of the book hits things are going sideways, upwards, downwards, and straight ahead. Weston himself seems always to be on his backfoot, never getting the upper hand in any situation. I think that one word that can describe this book is oppressive, mostly for that reason. He’s a badass, but he’s a seriously injured badass fighting a foe with significantly more power than him. Sister Mejia is a help, as is a boy named Bert and a priest whose name escapes me. But as many allies as he has, they aren’t exactly the cavalry.
It made me wonder about the nature of horror and how it differs from plain old fantasy. Both are speculative fiction, to be sure, but there’s never a sense of ‘man, Weston is in control of this situation,’ which you get snatches of from time to time in other fantastical tales. It’s more like watching a train wreck in slow motion. The question that remains is: will Weston escape the rubble intact and still in command of his own soul? On that last bit, right at the end there was a satisfying throwback to the first book that has me pondering another question, the same question that I had when I started: is Bill Weston basically fucked because of his encounter with the mhuwe?
From a nuts and bolts perspective, the writing is taut and lean – n’ar bit o’ purple to be seen. It’s well-edited and the story beats arrive on time. In some ways, it does feel like a mystery formula was consulted in the genesis of the book, but the slow unraveling and the way it’s presented had the hallmarks of a trope well done. It wasn’t predictable, which is what I would consider a necessary element for this kind of book. Overall, it’s the best book Dobbin’s written to date – like I said, I’ve read all three and feel confident in saying that.
We’re a month out from the onset of autumn. I love horror any time of year, and any fan of the genre would do well to enjoy the magnificence of The Risen during high summer or on a night in the lonesome October. And when you’re finished, you might be left with a burning question, as I am.
When’s the next one dropping, Jon?