Michelle

StN is a long, atmospheric historical fiction, mystery, novel. So many of the details that initially seem just part of that atmosphere contribute to the conclusion. You are never going to know what all matters or what detail will become significant.

Not recommended for people who want a fast pace or constant action. This story takes its time, lingers on details, contains long conversations.

Matthew and the magistrate, who is a father figure to Matthew, travel to the settlement of Fount Royal, the brain child of a man named Bidwell. The town is faltering due to the belief that one of the residents is a witch. Hence, the need for a magistrate.

Although McCammon writes horror, there is no real belief created in the reader that Rachel is a witch, nor is there meant to be. This detail works more on the level of hysteria, human bias and stupidity, and circumstantial evidence. To some extent, this is funny. To paraphrase any number of exchanges.

“So, magistrate, when will we get to burn the witch?”

“The accused needs to be tried.”

“Right, sure. We have to try her before we burn her – we believe in the law – but when do you think we can get to the burning part?”

And, unsurprisingly, anything that seems like evidence against her being a witch is written off as the devil being cunning.

But the book is about more than that. It's about Matthew coming of age and separating from his father figure as he definitively becomes a man in his own right. It's also about appearances being deceiving. Beyond an innocent woman being accused of doing the naughtiness with Satan, we have Matthew step into at least 3 homes that are not what they appear from the outside. We have multiple characters who are not what they seem. We have assumptions that prove to be false.

We also have this little ear worm:

Come out, come out, my dames and dandies. Come out, come out, and taste my candies.

I'm giving StN 5 stars because, after reading 800+ pages, I found myself not wanting to leave. A sense of melancholia set in at the last 10% because I knew the story was wrapping up, and I knew there would be some sadness both in the story and in me as a reader.

My mind is a-whir with all the points I want to make here, and all the disclaimers I have as well. Ultimately, this book is dated, which means some of the issues I have are a result of societal evolution. Still, my making allowances for this, as I routinely do, did not help me to enjoy this book more. Before I get into the main focus of my issues – but the image above is a preview – I'd like to say almost nothing worked for me in the story. I found all the characters either creepy or strange in their reactions, down to choices and to dialogue. There is a character that is supposed to be a creepy relative, and he was only slightly more off than anyone else. The good guys and the bad guy seemed to be a bit similar. The Kindle edition I read is also very poorly done, filled with formatting issues. Anyhow, there are 2 POV characters, one a 16-year-old girl with a sexually predatory murderer on her trail, and the other is the sexually predatory murderer. Fair enough when stated that way. Jody, the girl, spends the majority of the book in night shirts or missing her pants. She has a short night shirt, she has a short and tight night shirt, and she has a loose night shirt that – oopsies – falls off her shoulders and allows people to see down it. Her narration is obsessed with what her night shirts are doing at any given moment, what the hem line is doing, what parts of her body are being revealed. The thinness of the material. Even when she is being chased, she is conscious of these details. At one point, she is wearing shorts, but sustains an injury high on the thigh, and so off with the shorts. She also takes a really long shower at one point in which she thinks of the boy she likes. It doesn't completely go masturbatory on her part, but the whole thing seems designed with the intent of the rest of her narration – to remind us she is an attractive (but in many ways innocent and untouched) 16 year old. I don't think Laymon is trying to say this girl is obsessed with her own body, but I think he is obsessed with her body, and doing the thing some male authors do of thinking women are constantly in thought and deed catering to the male libido. He isn't in her head so much as watching her and making his fixations her thoughts. Which the other POV character – the sexually predatory murderer – is going to cover just fine. He has a purpose in being obsessed with her body and her, er, sexy innocence. Her POV should be a reprieve from that, even a rebuke of that as we know her as a full human being. In that way, authors get their cake and etcetera, etcetera. They can be creepy and empathetic, and you can't extrapolate what messed up thoughts they share with the bad guy. But everyone is obsessed all the time with the female body. There's a 12 year old boy who has his whole family slaughtered – first couple chapters – but never loses his fascination with copping a feel or catching a glimpse of Jody or a female cop character. I'll return to the female cop character.This kid is just creepy, and combined with everything and everyone else, seems to imply all men are capable of assaults on women they deem attractive. Or people? There are a couple sexually predatory murderers mentioned who like boys. The kid's erection becomes a plot point. There are moments when Jody also seems to give in a little to his advances. She says he's like a creepy little brother, but she also lets him stick his nose in her crotch for comfort – not making that up – or kisses him on the mouth since he's upset. She's worried her father might come in and get the wrong idea. Jody packs at one point to leave to evade the bad guy, and she thinks her father will be upset that she didn't pack a skirt or dress, not that there are any plans to go anywhere that would specifically need those items, just that it's somehow wrong for her not to have access to these items. The bad guy on more than one occasion wonders why women don't wear skirts and dresses anymore since pants and culottes impede access to ... stuff. With the exception of an old woman, I do believe every other female given a name is sexualized to some extent. The only other female character of any note, other than victims of the central gang, is a female police officer. Upon meeting Jody, she helps bandage her upper thigh injury – the one that forces Jody to remove her shorts – and Jody makes note of seeing down the woman's blouse, and reveals the cop has a thing for black sexy lingerie. God, what's her name? Bonnie, I think. We'll roll with it. Like Jody, Bonnie's character is mostly a hot body in revealing clothes, with just a subtle whiff of actual characterization that is not about her hot body. Jody and Bonnie are both good with guns and fighters, which I still think is presented as being hot. Jody's father makes clear he is attracted to Bonnie, and Jody understands it since Bonnie has big breasts that bounce when she shoots a gun. Dad wasn???t watching the target. His eyes were on Sharon. Jody checked; that???s where Andy was staring, too. Watching her there, NRA cap turned backward so its bill stuck out behind her, the rifle jumping with each shot and throwing out flashes of brass as its muzzle spat fire and white smoke, her whole body absorbing the recoils that hit her with quick hard jolts and shook her shirt and made her thighs vibrate even though Jody knew her legs must be almost as solid as wood. She does look great, Jody thought. No wonder the guys are staring like a couple of nuts. They???re probably wishing they were on the other side so they could watch what the recoils are doing to her boobs.Oh, Sharon. Bonnie is Sharon. Sharbonnie has packed – for the trip that is off-duty, but not unrelated to her job – a flimsy robe. In case anyone is wondering, she shares with the 12-year-old erection and Jody's dad (and Jody) she is naked under the robe, and let's head to the vending machine. She also shares over lunch that she has a tattoo in a mystery location. Because ever and always, the author wants to make sure the reader has something about the bodies of his female caricatures, er, characters, to imagine. Jody's father, btw, has “had kept his chivalry in spite of feminism,” and specifically worries that the condom will fall off inside Jody if she sleeps with a boy. Not just general failure rate of condoms so much as wanting to mention specifically what might happen if someone is INSIDE his daughter. His daughter who should wear dresses and skirts more. He slapped her on the rear once, which is not in isolation a problem for me. It just happens to be partnered with everything else. A whole lot of night shirts and testosterone. Which reminds me that Jody has no connection to any other female character, other than the big-boobed cop. She starts the book with a friend who doesn't make it to page 10, I don't think. No other friends that I recall are mentioned, or call her to see how she's doing. No friend she wishes to call and talk about the friend they just lost. Her mother is dead. Her world is entirely males who objectify females or one female written to be objectified. There is a love interest who has no substance, maybe because Laymon realized the limits to how many people Jody actually seemed to know. I like good, twisted villains. I do. But I'm wired to care about Jody, maybe even more in this case than the author cares about Jody. And I'm of an age where it irritates me that she is spends the book as T and A. That even that strong, capable part of her – or Sharbonnie's – nature seems to be given as just another reason she is sexy and pursued by the bad guy. I read this, and I feel both like Jody and Jody's mom, which makes me feel so sad to see her portrayal. And I realize how spoiled I've become as women authors get a voice, and many male authors are writing women with more empathy and complexity. Endless Night is the book version of slasher films. Jody is a final girl. 1980s me, coming of age, wouldn't know to be sad or offended. The author clearly wasn't aiming to be a sexist. Jody is scrappy, after all, which is why the bad guy – Simon – can't leave her alone. It???s more than just how she looks. She has ... a quality. A freshness. Maybe it also has to do partly with how spunky she was when we were after her.Anyhow, Simon's POV is super gross, but I think it should be. The author really pushes the envelope with describing Simon and his cohorts raping and torturing people. And I get it – horror novel, not Sunday brunch – but my issues with the Jody POV make me unable to go along. Because there are similarities, right? Everybody objectifies women, even the good guys. Simon, hand to God, even objectifies himself as he spends a lot of the novel disguised as a woman. I can't even untangle this plot point. Is the author saying Simon's enjoyment of dressing this way cements him as a sick puppy? Is (was, sorry) the author incapable of writing someone dressed this way, and describing one's self, without making it about level of attractiveness? Oh, look, the male villain put on a dress and now he's breasting boobily too. I mean, how could one not? ;)Anyhow, there were moments of horror and suspense. Those happened. This is why I upgraded to 2 stars. But I never want to read a Laymon book again. I have better choices in horror, in authors, in life, than to read books that gross me out in a bad way. And I know you know there are good gross outs and bad ones. It's not Laymon's fault that time has moved on. That's what time does. It's not his fault that we live in a time with increasing book options. It's not his fault that many female readers expect a different portrayal of female characters that aren't about how many boners they cause, and even when they are cognizant of that, they're also quite possibly addressing and critiquing that. Anyhow, a recent horror novel I really enjoyed was: [bc:Violets are Red 40530821 Violets are Red Mylo Carbia https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1529021360s/40530821.jpg 62918160]But if you think you'll enjoy Endless Night, have at it. I just couldn't stop thinking, “Oh, THIS is what people mean when they say torture porn.”

First Balogh book. Took a while to warm up to the characters, but ended up enjoying.

Yes, offensive at times, but also laugh-out-loud funny.

Review to come later.