Review: The Willows

5 stars. I found this terrifying. Everything about it: its familiar premise, the fresh path it carves, its tidy, concise plot, its words and sentences and sequences, its ending... it really spooked me. I would have loved to study this in a class and dissect it until I know what makes it tick, or until I discover that it bloomed from the magic of right time, right place, right idea, right author. The word that comes to mind is masterpiece.

It's a simple predicament: our unnamed narrator and his Swedish companion, after having traveled many miles via canoe on the Danube, stop for the night on an isolated island absent of life except for many crowded willows. They set up camp, gather some driftwood and settle in for the night. Soon it becomes clear, quite predictably, that something isn't quite right with the island - the river is rising, the wind is deafening, the willow branches sway, and something else... something otherworldly... doesn't want them to leave. 

It does sound a bit cheesy. In fact I think I went into this expecting cheesy. Or maybe I was expecting cliches. It's so much more than that. "There was a suggestion here of personal agency, of deliberate intention, of aggressive hostility, and it terrified me into a sort of rigidity." I was not ready for the crazy cosmic twists and turns this story takes - and yes, I know some folks argue that it isn't horror, it's weird, but often I find weird horrifying, so I'll say it's both. It's deeply unsettling, disturbing, creative in a way I haven't encountered before. It's very, very obvious that the author maybe... wanted to believe, or wanted to be open, or was sort of... daydreaming up the situation as though fantasizing. It almost felt personal. Which gives it that extra disturbing edge.

I find it really fascinating that packed into this short story is so much psychological self-analysis. The narrator is telling us the story from the future, recalling a memory, and he details almost every twist or shift of emotion he experiences, sometimes in the length of a second or a moment. From awe to disbelief to dread to confusion to "curious excitement" to mistrust to fear to deep, existential terror - we are along for every step of the ride. "Yet what I felt of dread was no ordinary ghostly fear. It was infinitely greater, stranger, and seemed to arise from some dim ancestral sense of terror more profoundly disturbing than anything I had known or dreamed of."

What I also admire is that, for all the atmospheric detail included, there's very little context about the characters. They are virtually without identity. We're told again and again to include context around characters - especially in horror - so the emotional stakes feel high. This proves that technique less required. The author peppered in just enough clues, but really it's his insane adeptness at writing terror that makes it irrelevant.

That ending!

The Willows on: Amazon | Goodreads | Bookshop.org