Review: The Silence of the Lambs (Hannibal Lector #2)

5 stars. Oh my gahh this was so good. Something about Thomas Harris' writing - it's so crunchy and attention-grabbing and attention-keeping, which is a huge deal in this day and age. Just like with the first one, all I wanted to do was sink into this disturbing world and immerse myself in the dark chase. I get the hype, I really do. I could not put this down.

The FBI is hunting for a new serial killer in this one, dubbed Buffalo Bill by the scrutinizing media. Jack Crawford, dealing with a devastating situation in his personal life, taps Quantico trainee Clarice Starling to interview Hannibal Lecter for his criminal and psychiatric insights. This sounds so cheesy, but a truly thrilling investigation follows, and Clarice and Hannibal get to know one another. There are all the iconic elements we've come to recognize: moths, skin suits, lambs. You know it by now. 

This Clarice is indeed a bit different from Jodie's, but I really loved her. The problematic aspects (of which there are so many) are somewhat balanced by Harris' depiction of Starling's experiences in the field. Her grief, the sharp chip on her shoulder, her willingness to jump down the rabbit hole, her awakening to the reality of her job, of her colleagues, of the system... it's all very well-written. 

Increased awareness is worth celebrating. It's a good book. It's not perfect. The gender issues are handled much better than in the movie, but the body shaming is out of control. Many reviewers have detailed it and reacted accordingly. Just check the TWs and make your own open-eyed choices.

I've heard some interesting things about the rest of the books in the series, but I think I'm going to read anyway. Thomas Harris creates such intense and captivating moments, it just might be worth any mediocre twists or out-of-character decision-making. We'll see. 

The Silence of the Lambs on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Ancestor

2 stars. Oh dear, I hate to say it: I thought this was kind of lame. A great premise - and there's definitely an audience for this sort of thing - but not for me. It kind of felt like a monster-of-the-week episode of X-Files or Supernatural with a little extra padding. There were elements of a scientific or anthropological thriller, like something from Michael Crichton or Dan Brown, and elements of a gothic horror novel, but nothing came together successfully. This is just a really strange book, start to finish.

Our heroine is Alberta, who is whisked away to Italy after discovering that she is the last heir to the estate of an ancient European noble family. She is told this by a handsome and lawyerly visitor, who promptly disappears from the story completely along with her estranged husband. Upon arriving at her isolated castle in the mountains, Alberta realizes there's more to this inheritance than money and legal documents: the household staff seems kind of secretive and hostile, there are rumors of a family curse, and maybe at one point there was some sort of beast wandering around stealing children from the village. Some of her relatives are alive, BTW. And she can't leave?

It just... gets even more ridiculous from there. And sure, ridiculous isn't necessarily bad. Ridiculous can be fun, and campy, and gripping. This was just strange. A lot of my eye-rolling was in reaction to the character of Alberta herself - I couldn't relate to her at all. Sure, I can't relate to every single protagonist I've ever read, but this girl would literally run dramatically from the least dramatic situations, and somehow things like murder, kidnapping, and being shot not only didn't really phase her - she found ways to justify and accept them. Very odd.

But the story itself - I think in the name of found family (one of my favorite themes) - also does some bizarre sidestepping, around incest and self-isolation and infliction of harm. There are stunning, boggling displays of self-righteousness and colonialist mindset, and some of the plot developments are really ... random. Not that books need to follow traditional narrative arcs, but any chance of emotional investment was destroyed pretty early on, so every "twist" got kind of a "huh" from me. I have to mention I'm still a little unclear about the antagonists here (like the who, the what, the why). 

The latest wave of hand wringing over reviews and Goodreads and reader response has hit the shore, so once again I'd like to declare: I've never written a book. It seems really hard. I'd be terrible at it. Also, this "review" is not professional, nor is it meant for the author or anyone who worked on the publication of this book. Just my thoughts, just my reaction to it. So if you're a prospective reader, just do your homework. Maybe you'll love it! Maybe you'll find this book spooky and surprising and satisfying. I did not.

The Ancestor on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Red Dragon (Hannibal Lector #1)

5 stars. Wow - blown away. This is a classic for a reason. I could not put it down. Punchy, graphic, vivid - full of... not just great crime writing, but great writing period. I had no idea that the exceptional TV show adaptation was so faithful (within reason) to the books, but it makes sense that it had such a great foundation on which to build its world. And this is truly a special world. We are thrown into a well-established solar system with bright stars and dark planets that already orbit one another in interesting ways. 

It's all the familiar faces: Jack Crawford, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, and the hunt to catch a disturbed serial killer named the Tooth Fairy, or, per the killer's preference, the Red Dragon. It's not exactly a familiar procedural, though: Thomas Harris meanders, taking the scenic route through the forest of Francis Dolarhyde's past and present - the cat-and-mouse game thrown seriously off the course you expect. I haven't decided if I liked that or not. It isn't the tidiest narrative arc in the world, but Harris doesn’t let it wander too, too far. 

Originally published in, what, the early 80s? Red Dragon isn't perfect. Definitely a bit dated, and the female characters are... interesting. Other representations would not likely hold up under a magnifying glass. Hannibal the TV series improves on this. But I really cannot say enough good things about Harris' actual writing. He is a master at showing, not telling - the guy does more in 2 sentences than other authors dream about doing in 10 pages. The painting of Will Graham's psyche and his special skills, communicated to us not just through his investigative habits but through minor exchanges of dialogue, barely-detected side glances, subtle references to the past... absolutely genius.

Everyone is so obsessed with Hannibal the Cannibal, and they should be. The movies, the rip-offs, the spin-offs, the money grabs. It’s a great character. But there is so much more right here at ground level, where it all started. So many wonderful heroes and villains, and the infinite shades in-between. I'm obsessed, and I hope the rest of the series lives up to this standard. 5 stars, from the emotions invoked, down to the sentence-level word choices. Can't recommend this enough.

Red Dragon on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Devil Aspect

4 stars. I'm all over the place with this one - on the one hand, I found the first half pretty bland and boring. On the other hand, I'm 9 months pregnant (which means almost anything could put me to sleep), and I just finished Swan Song, one of the most entertaining epics ever written. At times I was like, is this not really predictable, and cheesy? And at other times I was like, just one more chapter... just one more page... couldn't put it down. Sometimes the writing felt borderline pretentious, other times it was beautiful, cozy, dark... I should also mention that the political backdrop felt extra terrifying thanks to current events. Overall, I have to give it a good rating, because I have absolutely zero regrets reading it and would recommend it.

Craig Russell's The Devil Aspect takes place in Czechoslovakia in the mid-30s, where a young psychiatrist named Viktor takes a position at an isolated asylum in a rural castle. His goal is to examine, and hopefully treat, the "Devil's Six," a notorious group of criminals imprisoned for committing particularly violent crimes. As he settles in and conducts his studies, however, he uncovers more than the darkness within his patients: in nearby Prague, women are being murdered in the style of Jack the Ripper; in the castle's small village, children are going missing; his own friend Filip is slipping into depression; and he feels somewhat haunted in the medieval castle and its surrounding forest. 

It all comes to a head in a super maniacal, destructive, villainous way. Though maybe more of a dark thriller than a horror novel, there are some truly creepy moments well-placed throughout the narrative. Russell clearly did his research, so the scientific aspects ring true, but he writes with a respect and reverence for the folklore of his setting, creating some really rich, delicious, supernatural layers. This book screams to be read by the fire, during a blizzard, under the blanket, with a beer. It is just that gothic and atmospheric and vibe-y.

I can totally see why this is so popular, and I'm looking forward to chewing on it, now that I can see the big picture, so to speak. My first by Craig Russell, but it definitely won't be my last. 

The Devil Aspect on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Swan Song

5 stars. Can't give it anything less, can I? Swan Song is a masterpiece, through-and-through, and it continues to live up to the hype as a "modern classic." The length is justified, there is no better example of a large cast of characters, and it contains moments that are genuinely the stuff of nightmares. Of course it shows its age, of course it slides into cheesy 80s action sequences (especially at the climax), but all of those things are part of what makes it so... amazing, and such a delight. I’m going to miss this found family and the hope they managed to carve out for themselves in a cruel, dark world.

A broad summary, because a detailed one would take ages to outline: the nuclear apocalypse has arrived. The world spins on, flattened under the weight of its human-borne, human-bred trauma. Cities demolished, scorched, the sun blocked by clouds and a cold, permanent winter. Those who survive do so barely, and under the darkest of circumstances. But humans are resilient, and relentless, and our characters wield each of these traits in different ways - revealing, in the wasteland of the end of the world, their true faces, for better or worse. 

I absolutely loved the first 25% of this especially. The level of horror depicted is completely unhinged, and unmatched. The imagery - McCammon's writing is destructive, vivid, and beautiful, and horrifying. The burns, the heaving earth, the screams, the insanity, the smells, the pain, the shock and awe of it all. Truly something, and like nothing I've read before. And the way the rest of it all unfolded... I could've read about these characters circling each other for years and years - though it was great to watch them clash eventually. The scenes in Kmart, by the way… holy shit.

So, my complaints. There's almost no use anymore - this book has been picked apart so much. But look, you know I'm going to point out the incredibly upsetting animal deaths. My spidey senses started tingling when I was about 40% of the way in, and I almost put it down for good. But I didn't. If there's an author out there who can be trusted to utilize these types of plot devices wisely, it's Robert McCammon. I survived. I also have some questions around certain aspects that were maybe left open to interpretation... 

Oh, and I have to say it: it is kind of fun to pit this book against The Stand - what's wrong with a fun little competition, even when they aren't really that similar at all? I'd choose Swan Song every time - it's tighter, way less meandering, kinder to women and nastier in a good way - but that aside, I'd love to battle someone on this over a bottle of something. Go ahead, convince me I'm wrong! Makes me so happy that people have read both!

I would end maybe, with this: while Swan Song isn't perfect - what book is? - I can't think of, or recommend, a better way to spend your time than reading through its pages. It should sit on everyone's bookshelf, a hefty escape window; a reminder of the power of story, and the relief of a happy ending (fictional as it may be)... the way that tropes and cliches can still come together in fresh and compelling ways and teach us wonderful lessons. Swan Song held an extremely noisy darkness at bay for me, maybe it will for you too. 

Swan Song on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Reformatory

5 stars. Wow. Stunning, incredible - the hype is real! I'm a big fan of Tananarive Due (not only because I love saying her name... she's a welcome voice on all the Shudder documentaries I love, not to mention a great guest judge on Dragula), but this is my first book by her, and holy crap, I haven't had such a harrowing, awesome reading experience in ages. 

It's 1950, and in the fictional town of Gracetown, FL, 12-year-old Robbie Stephens Jr. is sentenced to 6 months at the nearby Reformatory, a "correctional school" for boys that is really just a prison. The sentence for his "crime" - defending his older sister, Gloria, from the advances of a wealthy white neighbor - is complicated by the fact that his father has left town to avoid a false and racially-motivated accusation.

The book alternates between Robbie and Gloria's perspectives as they try to navigate a world that is immediately, socially, politically, and personally, against them. Robbie must avoid the brutal punishment of the school's Warden, though his ability to see "haints" (ghosts haunting the school) quickly draws attention. And Gloria won't give up on her brother, forging ahead down every avenue - sometimes carving her own - to bring him home. 

For a book that takes place over the course of what, 1 week? Maybe 2? A lot happens. My summary barely scratches the surface of the many narrative layers, and doesn't touch on the many major and minor characters who orbit these fierce children's doomed situation. We as readers end up fully immersed in the terribleness of it all, but the long book is worth it. It's a real testament to Due's writing, which depicts the worst-of-the-worst-of-the-worst, that I couldn't wait to return to this setting.

I'm tired of hearing "horror is political" as a hot take, because horror has always been political. It is true that many authors lean on the pedal too hard, and their well-intentioned stories become preachy, sanctimonious, self-aggrandizing lessons for readers who will chafe against that sort of thing. Due lets this story, which is fictionalized but based in truth, speak for itself. I can't even begin to fathom or understand how challenging this must have been to research, and then write.

Beyond the subject matter, Due's writing really works, from both a historical fiction angle and a horror angle. She lovingly, beautifully marries the two. It is long, but well-paced, and includes some of the tensest sequences I've read all year. She writes children well, and monsters - all of her POVs are successful, I think - and recognizes where to incorporate complexity, sensitivity, and hope. The setting itself is also a character, and from a sentence-level the book is full of quotes that will choke you. In a good, powerful way. 

BookTok has made kind of a joke of reacting to books. "This will destroy you..."; selfies of readers crying, etc. The emotional reaction I had to this book is far from funny or cute or worth posting for clout, though it does feel profoundly meaningful. This book will strip away your defenses, crawl under your skin, and motivate you to do better - especially as we head into the scariest election of my life. It is horror at its absolute best. I will recommend it far and wide.

The Reformatory on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Black River Orchard

5 stars. In the small town of Harrow, PA, a new type of apple, grown and sold by local Dan Paxson, becomes intensely popular. Everyone who tastes it - has just one bite - becomes obsessed, not just with the apple, but with the way it makes them feel (better, stronger, powerful). But it also makes people sharper, meaner, more ruthless - especially towards those who refuse to eat the apples themselves. The fight for Harrow (or battle, maybe) escalates when it becomes clear that the apples are addictive, and vindictive, and in control - and the orchard trees have a bigger plan in mind: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!

Weird, playful, and incredibly well-written, this book is a home run for spooky season. It's a small town-encounters-giant evil sort of story, and it goes hard. We have a large cast of characters, double prologues and multiple interludes, flashbacks, a very long build-up and a very long climax, high stakes, absolutely disgusting imagery, and a badass ending. We have a grizzled veteran who teams up with a messy lesbian, and they eventually team up with a smart teenager and a kinky resident... which is all super delightful. We also have apple monsters.

I think it's really cool that a sexually progressive couple is depicted so positively, and so prominently - central to this story. Their preferences and behaviors furthered the story along, triggered narrative movement and fit nicely into the idea that the apples encourage folks to wield their prejudice and hatred. These folks are not kinky for the sake of being kinky: it's not box-check-y, or too preachy. Wendig never shies away from representation and I admire that.

One other thing: the Wendig of it all. I've written about Wacky Wending, and Wise Wendig, before; I went in with eyes wide open. There's something really undoubtedly refreshing about the way he makes it feel like this world - fantastical elements and all. He certainly has his viewpoints (which I share) and the book isn't commentary-free, and it was kind of nice to see some real, familiar, honest anxieties and depictions of our society reflected back. Social media is part of the story and referenced heavily; not only do the young characters use accurate(ish) slang, they behave and converse in ways teens do. Writing young people is hard, and he's okay at it.

Chuck Wendig has gotten close to feeling like Stephen King before, and he's closer still with this one. It takes real talent to put a story like this together. I was totally charmed, totally engrossed, totally invested and totally confused about how he pulled off the ridiculous premise - one that only increased in ridiculousness - in such a compelling way. I'm in the midst of a move and late stage pregnancy, and I couldn't fucking wait to get back to it. I'm bummed it's over. I would love a sequel, or a spin-off. Or maybe an adaptation, if anyone dares. 

Black River Orchard on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: North American Lake Monsters

4 stars. I love the entire spectrum of horror - from light to dark, from fun to bleak, from intense to agonizing to academic, refreshing or comedic. I just went from a pretty lighthearted, trope-y collection to an absolutely devastating one, and found deep satisfaction in each. Of course everybody has their limits - and I almost DNF'd this after hitting mine (my fault - I didn't check TWs) - but I was glad I powered through my personal resentments because this is the type of thought-provoking book that will stay with me for a long time. It's disturbing, reflective, and creative.

Featuring unique takes on werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and aliens, this collection's 9 stories guarantee a gut punch (or two, or many). While maybe not scary in the traditional sense, there is plenty of intensity to go around. I know it's kind of cliche at this point to say things like "the real horror is the economic anxiety" or "the supernatural elements reflect the dark nature of humanity," but Ballingrud's stories here are the very, very best examples of these ideas. 

North American Lake Monsters is cleverly titled, because it chews on America in some truly fascinating ways. Masculinity, especially, is on display here, as is that particular American odor of racism, otherness, paranoia... our treatment of others. There is so much to unpack and far more intelligent reviewers than I will do it happily - just know going in that this is different, very different from Wounds; very well-written; very dark; and very uncomfortable, in a good way.

North American Lake Monsters on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Rules of the Road

5 stars. OF COURSE, after a long reading slump, I went into this with low expectations, thinking it would be a solid 3 star read at best. OF COURSE it would be this one to snap me out of it, a debut with a long list of mediocre reviews from readers who didn't even finish it AND a kind of gimmicky premise. I just really enjoyed it. I found it to be fun and funny and mean and nasty in all the right ways. 

It's late at night, you're on the road. You've been on the road for awhile, with nothing but headlights to guide you. Maybe you're in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you're getting sleepy, so you turn on the radio. Maybe, instead of Top 40 or Classic Rock, you hear the voice of a DJ, a voice that seems to suck you in. Maybe he drops some specific details, and seems to know a little too much about you. As you listen, he preaches to you a rule: a rule of the road. Hopefully, you listen. Maybe, you don't. 

The book is presented as a collection of stories submitted by folks who have supposedly heard versions of this special, spooky broadcast. Each individual hears a different rule, and acts accordingly - sometimes in compliance, sometimes with defiance. Either way, each of them faces consequences beyond belief. Why are some people punished, others spared, others forced into loss or terrible tragedy? What's the system? Who is the DJ? Where are the answers?

It's addicting, this one. The writing flows and the fast pace really keeps you engaged. The stories are - as many reviewers have pointed out - a little repetitive, but I didn't mind at all, and they were ultimately very distinct - distinct enough to keep me guessing. It's also not just premise, or gimmick. There are some super dark, meaty themes here - really it's partly a book about America, just as it's partly a book about music, and partly a book about love, and partly a book about death. The quest to find the meaning of life is certainly not a new one, nor is a bleak resolution to the quest. But the author here infuses enough heart and soul and warm creativity that you sense some deep, meaningful shit between these pages. I would like to read it again.

Of course I loved the superficial surface-level stuff too. The tropes, the monsters, the cosmic lore, the cheesy moments. The twists! So many fun twists. The clever details. I just really loved it, and would've been happy to sink my teeth into a few more episodes/stories. Adapt this immediately as a podcast or an anthology film! I've used the word "fun" like 50 times but I'd use it again! Loved it.

The Rules of the Road on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Red Rabbit

4 stars. Sigh. So close. I got so, so close to busting out of this reading slump, enjoying a 5-star read, AND fully experiencing a story that - for the first time - reminded me of one of my absolute favorite books of all time, Between Two Fires. It was a bit agonizing, actually, to be 3/4 of the way through only to realize I was quite bothered by a couple of things. Because this is a truly fantastic read. A must-read, I would say, for fans of horror and Westerns. It's unique and crunchy and episodic and I'm eager to unpack why it feels so similar to BTF, and also why it didn't make it up the hill all the way.

It's a bit tricky to summarize, but the story revolves around a group of misfits who join up to collect the bounty on a witch who is apparently terrorizing a county miles and miles away. There's Rose, a recent widow: sure of herself, but searching for her purpose. There's Moses and Ned, two wandering companions, and Tom, an old witch-hunter, and Rabbit, a mysterious child under the group's care. There's Benito, a young heartthrob on the run, and Joe Mullins, the ghost of Rose's husband. And there are many others encountered along the way. 

I want to make very clear: I would gladly read this again. I would gladly revisit this world, and trace the incredible details that make it so special. I highly recommend Red Rabbit for any day of the week, any season of the year. But please first heed my very passionate warning: check trigger warnings, especially those of you who are sensitive to animal welfare. After a lot of back-and-forth agonizing, I ultimately decided to dock a star as I typically would for UDDs - and I have to mention that 85% of the way in a puppy is introduced, right before the big climactic fight.

Sure, there are a few other things to nitpick. There are a lot of characters, and we don't go very deep into any of them (except literally... long story). Maybe there are a few sequences that could've been cut or edited down. And while I absolutely loved the sort of go-with-it laissez-faire worldbuilding, sometimes it's a little too scattered/random, to the point where I was maybe less invested/prone to skim. I would've overlooked all of that. It's a beautiful, meaningful piece of horror. But because this is my review and the stars reflect my personal reaction, 4 stars it is.

Further reading and watching, for your consideration: Between Two Fires (book), The North Woods (book), Constantine (film), Preacher (TV show), Dark Winds (TV show), Deadwood (TV show).

Red Rabbit on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads