Horror for the horrorshow
Frens,
I've been having trouble concentrating on reading. The last six weeks (!!) I've abandoned nearly every book. Middlemarch is collecting dust. I couldn't even get through the first quarter of Memento Mori and that's Muriel Sparks for crissakes.
But finally something is doing the trick: The Ecstatic by Victor LaValle. LaValle writes in the overlap of horror, fantasy, and literary fiction. His voice is absorbing, fresh, the plots surprising, the characters complex and fleshy. You know what I mean by that. His books feel real even when Cthulhu appears in Harlem. LaValle is from New York, Queens specifically, which he frequent uses as a setting, like in The Ecstatic, and another book of his I love, The Changeling.
Maybe because it's set in familiar surroundings and those surroundings are frightening, it's resonating with me. But also doesn't gripping genre fiction just sound really satisfying? A man on our street died of covid19 recently. I'm not against escapism but I need it to be as dark and as wild as the world is right now.
Here are some some of my favorite thriller or horror or whatever books:
McGlue by Ottessa Moshfegh (America). A homoerotic phantasmagoria about a pirate imprisoned on a ship on the way to his trial for murder. If that doesn't make you want to read it...we're not on the same level. Moshfegh has gotten a lot of press for her last two books, Eileen and My Year of Rest and Relaxation. McGlue is weirder and better.
The Cipher by Kathe Koja (America). This is a nasty, freaky book. Call it body horror. It is not for the weak. But if you're up for the challenge, I highly recommend it because it's gorgeous. A heartbroken crust punk finds a black hole in his apartment building. It mutates anything living that gets close. A dark, feral book of obsession.
Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin (Argentina). Through the perspective of a woman and a boy in a hospital, the reader pieces together the story of a small town. Psychological- and eco-thriller(!). Surreal and upsetting--like fuck-the-man upsetting. Shortlisted for the Man Booker.
The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (America). It's a classic for a reason. The book itself feels cursed. How did she write something so creepy. Um I guess I could read her biography, I heard it's good.
My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite (Nigeria). Two sisters, one beautiful and one plain. The former won't stop killing the men who fall at her feet, and the latter protectively cleans up the mess. Until the plain one's love interest meets the beauty... Horror for a sunny day. Longlisted for the Man Booker.
Thinner by Stephen King (Maine). If you haven't read Stephen King, why not? He's great.
White Tears by Hari Kunzru (Britain/Pakistan). Two young white record collectors make a fake blues song. The song unlocks an evil spirit, but what is it trying to avenge? A ghost story about capitalism, exploitation, appropriation, envy, and race in America, but it's not heavy handed. Maybe because it's not by an American? Gripping, disorienting, unsettling.
Sweet Days of Discipline by Fleur Jaeggy (Switzerland/Italy)
Such Small Hands by Andres Barba (Spain)
Two books on the same theme: young girls together. The former a woman's take on a rich boarding school, and the latter a man on an orphanage. Great to read back to back as two takes on female adolescence.
My boss (ND publishes Sweet Days) describes Jaeggy’s style as "champagne gothic." It's chilling, elegant, clean, and intoxicating. Nothing happens. The girls possess each other through their crushes and alliances. The headmaster is obsessed with the one black student. But it feels like a ghost has walked through you.
A new arrival at an orphanage for girls begins Such Small Hands. She's strange--bold and pretty. She wants to fit in. The other girls love her but also resent her for the love she gets. They together invent a game of playing "doll" that turns...you can probably guess but it ain't good. Based on a true story.
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That was fun! I don't know how often I'll be writing these newsletters, especially once we go back to the wreckage that is life outside, but for now it's something to focus on and makes the hours I spend in the solitary act of consuming feel communal.
And please send me requests for other newsletters!
Mike asked for snacks which is easy because the only snack is triscuits. My triscuit supply is dwindling so I attempted and then botched an attempt at making these rosemary flatbread crackers by not rolling them thin enough. Worth it for Chef John's delightful muppet voice. Oh you don't know jolly old Chef John?
Love you babies,
Brittany