Rhiannon
TL;DR: đ¶ Not your average psychological grief horror by a long shot...
This review took a while for me to piece together. When I finished this book, I had such strong, visceral feelings about it, and itâs been quite challenging putting them into any sort of cohesiveness.
Thereâs a lot going on in this novel: AI, tech, faith, cults, grief, depression, su*c*de, guilt⊠there is a great deal of very relatable ideas and emotions (some more than others) over the kind of soul-crushing loss and sorrow that Eli, the MC, experiences. The writing is so beautifully fluid and true that itâs almost breathtaking.
âThe unbearable knowledge that someone he loves has shaped her identity from absence. That sheâs been seeking resonance in ghosts, syllables, even the machine she built.â
The book opens with the kind of isolated setting that is both beautiful and haunting in its solitude. I was immediately intrigued to see how the spooky opening of the book, that felt lightly supernatural, would tie back to the more high-tech creep that the story unfolds into.
The text is visually expressive, his screenplay roots suffuse the storytelling and set the scene beautifully. The plot is a slow build after the opening chapter, the tension subtle but pervasive. There was a bit of momentum drag at about the halfway point when I was becoming a little distracted by the (to me) overly esoteric and preachy bits that were becoming a lot more predominant than I was personally comfortable with.
âThe highest truths are not hidden to keep them from the unworthy, but to awaken the worthy to seek them. Only those ready to see will take the time to look beyond the veil.â
I just wasnât prepared for this level of dialogue.
At the same time, I get it, this book deals with some very high-minded issues in a very serious way. It was also around this point where I started to really wonder if I was reading a book on faith, fate, chance, a very subtle creeping horror⊠(there was even some incongruency for me with the tone of the story and the cover of the book.) It turned out to be all of those things â I just needed to be patient.
It was around that halfway mark where the imagery was really becoming surreal and eerie in a most intriguing way (one passage gave me distinct impressions of a very specific scene from Lynchâs Fire Walk With Me) and so brought me back into the mystery. There was a sense of an unnamable and amorphous thing that was neither bad nor good at the heart of it â you donât get evil, but a more cosmic, abyssal, unknowable presence.
There was a feeling of constant unease and disquiet that developed into a kind of anxiety for me, from the imagery and, honestly, from the very distressing and real pain of the MC, his feelings of loss and guilt. There was almost too much despair to take, it hit so intimately and close, in an uncomfortable way. The subtle horror was like a whisper in the text, and strongly disturbing in what wasnât overtly said (around death and su*c*de).
"Grief isnât a riddle to solve. Itâs a dialect of absence, of memory and ache, and only the broken can ever really learn how to read it."
A serious psychological grief horror novel that will stay with me. I will certainly be checking out Coscoâs other offerings.
Many thanks to the author and BookSirens for the advance review copy. All opinions are my own.
Originally posted at www.instagram.com.
TL;DR: đ¶ Not your average psychological grief horror by a long shot...
This review took a while for me to piece together. When I finished this book, I had such strong, visceral feelings about it, and itâs been quite challenging putting them into any sort of cohesiveness.
Thereâs a lot going on in this novel: AI, tech, faith, cults, grief, depression, su*c*de, guilt⊠there is a great deal of very relatable ideas and emotions (some more than others) over the kind of soul-crushing loss and sorrow that Eli, the MC, experiences. The writing is so beautifully fluid and true that itâs almost breathtaking.
âThe unbearable knowledge that someone he loves has shaped her identity from absence. That sheâs been seeking resonance in ghosts, syllables, even the machine she built.â
The book opens with the kind of isolated setting that is both beautiful and haunting in its solitude. I was immediately intrigued to see how the spooky opening of the book, that felt lightly supernatural, would tie back to the more high-tech creep that the story unfolds into.
The text is visually expressive, his screenplay roots suffuse the storytelling and set the scene beautifully. The plot is a slow build after the opening chapter, the tension subtle but pervasive. There was a bit of momentum drag at about the halfway point when I was becoming a little distracted by the (to me) overly esoteric and preachy bits that were becoming a lot more predominant than I was personally comfortable with.
âThe highest truths are not hidden to keep them from the unworthy, but to awaken the worthy to seek them. Only those ready to see will take the time to look beyond the veil.â
I just wasnât prepared for this level of dialogue.
At the same time, I get it, this book deals with some very high-minded issues in a very serious way. It was also around this point where I started to really wonder if I was reading a book on faith, fate, chance, a very subtle creeping horror⊠(there was even some incongruency for me with the tone of the story and the cover of the book.) It turned out to be all of those things â I just needed to be patient.
It was around that halfway mark where the imagery was really becoming surreal and eerie in a most intriguing way (one passage gave me distinct impressions of a very specific scene from Lynchâs Fire Walk With Me) and so brought me back into the mystery. There was a sense of an unnamable and amorphous thing that was neither bad nor good at the heart of it â you donât get evil, but a more cosmic, abyssal, unknowable presence.
There was a feeling of constant unease and disquiet that developed into a kind of anxiety for me, from the imagery and, honestly, from the very distressing and real pain of the MC, his feelings of loss and guilt. There was almost too much despair to take, it hit so intimately and close, in an uncomfortable way. The subtle horror was like a whisper in the text, and strongly disturbing in what wasnât overtly said (around death and su*c*de).
"Grief isnât a riddle to solve. Itâs a dialect of absence, of memory and ache, and only the broken can ever really learn how to read it."
A serious psychological grief horror novel that will stay with me. I will certainly be checking out Coscoâs other offerings.
Many thanks to the author and BookSirens for the advance review copy. All opinions are my own.
Originally posted at www.instagram.com.