“The birds sang as they should; the deer took flight, their white tails exclamation points against the green and brown of the underbrush; the raccoons, bowlegged, swayed about their business, ignoring us. As a group, we felt almost giddy, I think, to be free after so many confining months of training and preparation.”
Kind of funny that my last two books have been in the realm of “ecological sci-fi,” but here we are. However, Annihilation strips away any satire and comedy that may have been in Galapagos, and instead presents an anxiety-ridden atmospheric novel of four scientists who go out to explore the dangerous and unfamiliar “Area X.”
The descriptions of the flora and fauna of Area X are great, and the narrator writes with an unreliable tone while at the same time, sounding like writing a lab report. It’s kind of jarring, but VanderMeer captures the surreal and tense mystery through his Lovecraftian prose very well.
“I took samples as we went, but halfheartedly. All of these tiny remnants I was stuffing into glass tubes with tweezers … what would they tell me? Not much, I felt.”
However, while there was a plot, it didn’t go very far for me. And that’s okay, sometimes things don’t need to happen – I tend to really enjoy books that have no plot line at all. But for this particular brand of sci-fi, I wish for a little more. What might help with this, though, is not reading the blurb on the back of the book. Nothing is spoiled, but some things might hit harder without knowing ahead of time.
Will I finish the trilogy? Maybe. It’s not on the top of my to-read list, but I am curious to learn more about Area X and the world of Southern Reach. But if the genre of eco-horror sci-fi sounds interesting to you, you should pick this one up – and let me know your thoughts.
“Everything goes away, Jack Sawyer, like the moon. Everything comes back, like the moon.”
It may seem odd to spend over 600 pages on a book that was only three stars (maybe closer to a 3.5), but to be honest, this was a solid 4-star book until the last quarter or so. Overall, this was a good nighttime read: just a fantasy adventure of 12-year-old Jack Sawyer crossing the United States to get to the mysterious Talisman in order to save his mother. While there were monsters and horrors along the way, The Talisman was more adventure, and I guess I had expected an equal amount of each.
The text could feel a bit disjointed at times, likely due to the fact the there were two authors who wrote this (having read some Stephen King before, this didn’t really feel 100% like him). But honestly, you could read much worse, and this book does not deter me from wanting to read the sequel, Black House. Although I think my next few King books will be more focused on horror. Maybe Misery...
"‘I haven’t given up hope of rational explanations, Susan. I’m hoping for one. Almost praying for one. Monsters in the movies are sort of fun, but the thought of them actually prowling through the night isn’t fun at all.’”
I may be entering my Stephen King era after this read. Back in high school I had read some of his shorter works, but I don’t think I was old enough at the time to appreciate his storytelling. As I currently contemplate whether I want to jump into his seven-volume Dark Tower series, I figured a good place to start is with one of his earlier and more well-known novels.
In the expanded edition’s introduction (which is well worth the read, by the way), King cites Bram Stoker’s Dracula as his source of inspiration – he wanted to explore what would have happened if Dracula appeared in 1960’s small-town America instead of 1890’s London. ‘Salem’s Lot also has many homages to Shirly Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House. You certainly don’t need to read either of these to enjoy ‘Salem’s Lot, but having read them, I felt I appreciated his novel that much more.
“Being in the town is prosaic, sensuous, alcoholic. And in the dark, the town is yours and you are the town’s and together you sleep like the dead, like the very stones in your north field. There is no life here but the slow death of days, and so when the evil falls on the town, its coming seems almost preordained, sweet and morphic. It is almost as though the town knows the evil was coming and the shape it would take.”
In fact, much like The Haunting of Hill House, the further I got in ‘Salem’s Lot, the more I wanted to read – but for a different reason. Instead of just wanting questions answered and tension resolved, as I did in Jackson’s novel, there was more ‘action’ in this book that I wanted to get to; I constantly wanted to know what happened next. It was enticing, entertaining, emotional, and spooky all at once.
It’s also worth pointing out that the many childhood themes (e.g., guilt, fear, loss of innocence, the disconnect between children and adults) that permeate throughout King’s work start budding in ‘Salem’s Lot. I have not read It, but I’ve seen both the 1990 and 2017/2019 movies, and there are similarities between The Loser’s Club and the characters in this novel (specifically, Mark).
“Before drifting away entirely, [Mark] found himself reflecting—not for the first time—on the peculiarity of adults. They took laxatives, liquor, or sleeping pills to drive away their terrors so that sleep would come, and their terrors were so tame and domestic: the job, the money, what the teacher will think if I can’t get Jennie nicer clothes, does my wife still love me, who are my friends. They were pallid compared to the fears every child lies cheek and jowl with in his dark bed, with no one to confess to in hope of perfect understanding but another child.”
Even though October is over, I recommend this to anyone who wants a spooky read, any time of the year.
“Perhaps someone had once hoped to lighten the air of the blue room in Hill House with a dainty wallpaper, not seeing how such a hope would evaporate in Hill House, leaving only the faintest hint of its existence, like an almost inaudible echo of sobbing far away. . .”
Going into this, I had no idea that any preconceived notion of a ‘haunted house story’ I had would completely vanish – but despite this, it was still a perfect October read. Expecting the literary equivalent of jump scares, I instead got this gothic blanket of uneasiness, unfamiliarity, and tension, consistently asking myself while reading, what does it mean to be haunted? I didn't get an answer, but by the time I finished, I understood the question better.
Shirley Jackson does a superb job at taking the time and fleshing out the four main characters who stay in the house. It’s a slow but necessary introduction to appreciate the themes of belonging and identity throughout (among many other themes, too many to get into in this review). A house with an infamous past is the perfect backdrop to get into relationships between these characters.
“They were all silent, looking into the fire, lazy after their several journeys, and Eleanor thought, I am the fourth person in this room; I am one of them; I belong.”
I found that my reading speed was directly proportional to my progress in the book. Towards the end, it becomes almost impossible to put down, likely because there were more and more questions that I wanted answered (and if you finished the book, you may know why this is the case). This is a gothic classic that I recommend to anyone wanting to broaden their spooky novel repertoire.
“Her eyes hurt with tears against the screaming blackness of the path and the shuddering whiteness of the trees, and she thought, with a clear intelligent picture of the words in her mind, burning, Now I am really afraid.”
“So she kept watching TV, trying to empty her heart and mind as she gazed upon the meaningless progression of scenes on the screen. But the well of thought taps a deep spring, and no matter how much she tried to bail them out, her thoughts kept overflowing the brim…”
This horror-ish short story collection was a wild trip. I say “horror-ish” because there’s a little bit of everything in here – fantasy, science fiction, body horror, even drama, but these stories all share the common thread of surrealism. For example, characters might not respond how we would expect them to in certain situations, which admittedly can be a little disorienting at first. But once you accept that and embrace the absurdity, it becomes less disorienting – and I ended up really liking this aspect of the book (and Chung’s writing in general).
My favorites were probably the title story, 'Cursed Bunny,' and 'The Frozen Finger.' The former is a dark spin on the classic fairy-tale genre (but I guess considering that Grimms’ Fairy Tales was originally dark, this is more of a return to form), while the latter is a surreal trip where our we are as blind as the main character, trying to figure out the circumstances surrounding a mysterious car crash. 'Ruler of the Winds and Sands' is also a highlight, exploring the mythical desert world of kings, gods, and greed.
If any of these stories sound intriguing to you, I highly recommend this short story collection!
I fittingly finished this novel on Halloween night (as you can see, I’m behind on reviews), and overall enjoyed it much more than I thought I would. As my friend Corey said, the first thing that stuck out to me was the fact that the creation of the monster happens very early on, and there’s no real theatrical “Hollywood” moment as it happens – it just happens. And the rest of the book is all about the aftermath of that fateful night. We follow Victor to see what happens afterward, learn about the tragic downfall of the monster, and how this translates to the terror that Victor experiences. Make no mistake though; I believe that Victor is the true monster. He knows this too, but at times almost cannot bring himself to face what he’s done. This, of course, has drastic consequences.
“But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall soon cease to be—a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself.”
What a line. I also really enjoyed the parallels between Victor and the monster. Isolation, vengeance, and the creation/destruction of life are all traits that are present in both of these characters. Another unexpected pleasure I had from reading this was all of the natural descriptions of the European landscape as the characters traveled around. To me, this “sublime nature” of the book was a perfect foil to the human horror that we are constantly inundated with in the main story.
“The weight upon my spirit was sensibly lightened as I plunged yet deeper in the ravine of Arve. The immense mountains and precipices that overhung me on every side, the sound of the river raging among the rocks, and the dashing of the waterfalls around spoke of a power mighty as Omnipotence—and I ceased to fear or to bend before any being less almighty than that which had created and ruled the elements, here displayed in their most terrific guise. Still, as I ascended higher, the valley assumed a more magnificent and astonishing character. Ruined castles hanging on the precipices of piny mountains, the impetuous Arve, and cottages every here and there peeping forth from among the trees formed a scene of singular beauty. But it was augmented and rendered sublime by the mighty Alps, whose white and shining pyramids and domes towered above all, as belonging to another earth, the habitations of another race of beings.”
I definitely enjoyed this classic much more than I thought I would, and highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t read it yet.
Originally, I was going to read this via an email subscription service which sends you the letters/journals/newspaper clippings that make up this epistolary novel on the date they were written; but honestly the book was too enticing to wait until the next email, so I ended up just going ahead with it.
Vampires have become such a popular genre since this was published in 1897 (Twilight, Blade, American Horror Story, What We Do In The Shadows, the list goes on…), so we have all become somewhat unfazed by them, even obsessing over them. So going into this, I tried to imagine someone reading about vampires for the first time, especially in the late 1800s, where vampires threatened the Christian and puritan ideals so prevalent at the time. In this novel, submitting to someone like Dracula presents an eternally damned fate worse than death.
"To us for ever are the gates of heaven shut; for who shall open them to us again? We go on for all time abhorred by all; a blot on the face of God's sunshine; an arrow in the side of Him who died for man. But we are face to face with duty; and in such case must we shrink?"
Regarding plot, I’d say the first four chapters are probably my favorite. There are only two main characters, Jonathan Harker and Count Dracula, and all you can do is read as the horror slowly unfolds upon itself; it’s honestly such a strong beginning. But after these chapters, the plot and pacing start to slow down.
And to me, the pacing from this point onward presents kind of a Catch-22 situation. By that, I mean there were a lot of dry parts between the letters and journal entries, especially as we get to know all the new characters introduced after Jonathan’s visit. However, the presence of these dry parts amplified the shock when horror scenes did occur, and for that reason, passages such as the recollection of sailors on the boat had such a profound effect. I don’t know if these scenes would be as gruesome had the book just been filled with Dracula’s misadventures and wrongdoings. So, I can’t necessarily blame Stoker for wanting to build up story and mystery in the scenes between the horror.
“He can, within limitations, appear at will when, and where, and in any of the forms that are to him; he can, within his range, direct the elements: the storm, the fog, the thunder; he can command all the meaner things: the rat, and the owl, and the bat—the moth, and the fox, and the wolf; he can grow and become small; and he can at times vanish and come unknown. How then are we to begin our strife to destroy him?”
Truly a haunting book, with a thrilling ride in the latter half. I had seen the film a few years ago, but it didn’t have much of an impact on me, so I had forgotten most of the plot. The book better captures that lingering fear throughout, in my opinion – it definitely felt like something dreadful was always lurking around the corner (thanks to Merricat’s pseudo-extrasensory ‘skills’).
The book does start off a bit slow, but the arrival of Cousin Charles really sets things into motion. Many things are left open to the reader’s interpretation, partially because of unreliable and eccentric narrator Merricat, but also because of Jackson’s writing. The writing for events occurring in the present are well-articulated, but passages describing the past are very ambiguous, something that Jackson likely did on purpose. This allows the reader to speculate what might have gone on in the past, and how those events affect the plot.
Mild spoilers ahead: I wish I remembered where I read this, but someone mentioned that this book is like the prequal of how houses become haunted, and how urban legends get started in small towns; an idea I’ve really come to appreciate.
“I remember that I stood on the library steps holding my books and looking for a minute at the soft hinted green in the branches against the sky and wishing, as I always did, that I could walk home across the sky instead of through the village.”
FILM REWATCH: After rewatching the film after this read, it was definitely better than I remember, but didn’t capture a lot of mysteriousness the book had to offer. Book: 4/5 stars, movie: 2.5/5 stars.
