Six oddball but resilient youngsters fall into the way of a vast and terrible paranormal malevolence that has entered our existence from the deepest abyss of oblivion. They must spend their lifetimes fighting it, enduring terror upon terror in the ordeal.
This is the plot, roughly, of Stephen King’s seminal work It (his best; undeniable). It parallels of King’s son Joe Hill’s recent massive horror novel, in which a band of six invoke the primordial, deeply sinister beast King Sorrow from the Endless Night to assist them in vanquishing some antagonists. Needless to say, their supernatural ritual has unintended consequences.
Joe Hill launched his profession making great efforts to remain separate from his famous father, adopting the nom de plume he maintains to this day and eschewing in-person meetings with his agent (he bears a uncanny likeness to his parent). But in this latest novel, he leans into it. Certain passages that consciously reflect some of King’s most famous (that classic opening line); a moment that brings to mind a King plot point (a game of puzzles). In this epic story, Hill is delighting in his family connection, and readers share in the joy.
Returning to the group: five of them are pupils at the imagined the esteemed institution in the New England state. We have Arthur, studious and intelligent, solving historical enigmas in his spare time; Colin, affluent, astute, and prone to trampling anyone who stands in his way; the twin siblings; the beautiful the lovely Allie. Then we have Gwen, who isn’t their classmate, but becomes a key part of their band as they experiment, somewhat credulous, partly skeptical, in arcane arts.
Arthur is, for reasons we don’t need to go into, obliged to take prized manuscripts from his cherished academic collection by a set of regional villains. This wounds his academic spirit, particularly as he’s compelled to seize the library’s most valuable and disturbing work: the diary of practitioner this enigmatic character (condemned “for trafficking with the devyll in 1703”; the cover is crafted from his flesh). These young investigators examine the log, discover they could summon what the author references as a “proud worm to assist Arthur with his coercion issue – and devote the remaining story facing the fallout. King Sorrow will indeed rid them of those annoying regional antagonists, but they are required to pick a different victim annually or become his victim themselves. In the character’s own words: “You invoke terrible forces, all you get is more dragons.”
Spanning forty years, the author shifts with seamless grace between genres: as the friends endeavor to address the predicament they find themselves in by, variously, selecting clearly malevolent individuals to offer up, or hunting down ways to destroy the entity themselves, we go from suspense to dark fantasy, clandestine torment to affectionate subplot to terror. My favorite genre switch was to a quest story, deep in the caves under the English county, a section infused with the fantasy maestro that was magnificently horrifying.
The novel features trolls – the classic variety and digital trolls, genuinely frightening and expertly realized. We see enchanted blades and treacheries, breath-taking moments of bravery and ones of appalling malevolence, both mortal and extraterrestrial. This is a remarkable achievement: a frightening tale that is above all a tribute to the imagination, and to devotion and companionship. “We needed a story to believe and {now we’ve got one|presently we possess it|currently we hold it,” says Colin as the friends gather at the table, making preparations to call forth their beast into being with the strength of their collective will.
According to Joe Hill in his introductory quote: “Hic sunt dracones”. Don’t miss them.
A passionate gamer and tech reviewer with over a decade of experience in the gaming industry, specializing in controller ergonomics and performance.
News
News
News
News
News
Tina Jackson
Tina Jackson