Monsters All The Way Down- Ryan McSwain
I lost my way in the middle, so I was relieved
to find I was meant to have done so.
There are only three main characters,
Brennan, Thomas and Joan. The fourth character, the Old Man, never really distils
until the end. McSwain deliberately fogs the mind of the reader as much as
those of the two characters we are meant to have some empathy towards. So don't
feel the need to backup in the middle looking for a missed direction; just
enjoy the easy dialogue as it skips you effortlessly through the detached heads
to its all revealing and exciting conclusion.
McSwain writes in a way that I found compulsive,
as though a word drug was administered in the opening chapter. I was addicted
after a few pages, found myself effortlessly zooming through the middle, to then
be left fighting and kicking as hard as Thomas to get over this strong
compulsion before the close.
Like all good ghost/ghoul horrors, I
really, really hope that the all the spooky manipulations of our souls are
impossible. McSwain is kind enough to not be over-repetitive, over-gratuitous, by
leaving the detail of many repeat performances to our imaginations. That is a
technique that many lesser writers should consider emulating. Indeed, McSwain
grants us enough signposts to humour to allow the squeamish, me, to divert the
words through a pool of more humorous interpretation.
The most rounded character, and only
half-normal one, is Joan. She is so tricked and deceived by the interests of
others that I wouldn't have been at all surprised if she had just walked off
chapter and never come back. Luckily, she didn't, staying to provide a string
of sanity for the reader to hold onto.
In his afterwords, McSwain talks about many
influences, most of which I can't really vouch for, but yes Stephen King is
certainly there. Mostly though, I think the credit for this story truly goes to
the author's own unique mix of horror elements. I am not well read in close
genres, but truly believe the plot emerged from the author's own grey matter
and not from the thoughts gathered from the thousands of heads rolling around
on the blood-stained floors of previous writers.
I really am not a horror fan, but as I say
the drug got to me and opened up the macabre fears I usually prefer to keep
locked away. The whirlwind of thoughts at the end was worth the increased blood
pressure during the journey.
Was the book plot perfect? I can't say for
sure. Was there an occasional bit of sloppy grammar, some poor continuity
between sentences, and once or twice a distracting sprinkling of typos? Certainly.
I assume that many of these will be edited out in future editions. Was the book
entertaining? In bucketfuls, of both blood and macabre humour!
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