Six unlikely but doughty children encounter the trail of a immense and dreadful paranormal darkness that has entered our world from the outer limits of darkness. They are compelled to spend their lifetimes battling it, enduring horror after horror in the ordeal.
This is the plot, roughly, of Stephen King’s seminal work It (arguably his finest; undeniable). It parallels of King’s son Joseph Hillstrom King’s recent massive horror novel, in which a close-knit group invoke the primordial, infinitely malicious beast the Sorrowful Monarch from the Endless Night to help them defeat some antagonists. Unsurprisingly, their supernatural ritual backfires.
Joe Hill began his writing journey striving diligently to distance himself from his renowned parent, publishing under the pen name he still uses today and eschewing in-person meetings with his agent (he exhibits a uncanny likeness to his parent). But in this latest novel, he embraces it. There are lines that intentionally mirror some of his father’s iconic (the famous Dark Tower introduction); a moment that recalls a signature King element (a riddling contest). In this whopper of a novel, Hill is delighting in his family connection, and we delight along with him.
Focusing on the companions: five of them are pupils at the fictional the esteemed institution in Maine. First is Arthur, studious and intelligent, deciphering ancient puzzles in his spare time; another key figure, wealthy, sharp, and prone to trampling obstacles in his path; the twin siblings; the stunning Allie herself. Then we have Gwen, who isn’t their classmate, but emerges as crucial of their group as they toy, partly convinced, partly skeptical, in the occult.
Our hero becomes, for reasons we don’t need to go into, compelled to pilfer prized manuscripts from his beloved college library by a bunch of local criminals. This wounds his academic spirit, notably because he’s compelled to seize the library’s most valuable and unsettling title: the logbook of practitioner this enigmatic character (executed “for conspiring with dark forces in 1703”; the book’s jacket is fashioned from his hide). These young investigators examine the log, realize they are able to call forth what the occultist details as a “arrogant beast to assist Arthur with his coercion issue – and occupy the subsequent narrative reaping the consequences. King Sorrow will certainly eliminate those problematic neighborhood criminals, but they must select a different victim every twelve months or become his victim themselves. As Arthur later puts it: “You invoke terrible forces, all you get is additional horrors.”
Moving through four decades, Hill also moves with seamless grace between genres: as the companions endeavor to address the circumstances they find themselves in by, through diverse methods, choosing undeniably wicked targets to sacrifice, or searching for methods to destroy the entity themselves, we move between suspense to dark fantasy, clandestine torment to affectionate subplot to terror. My favorite genre switch was to a adventure narrative, within the subterranean depths under the English county, a segment infused with JRR Tolkien that was magnificently horrifying.
The novel features trolls – those living under bridges and online ones, truly terrifying and superbly depicted. The story includes mystic weapons and deceptions, breath-taking moments of bravery and scenes of appalling malevolence, both mortal and supernatural. It’s a tour de force: a horror novel that is primarily a paean to the imagination, and to affection and camaraderie. “We required a narrative to trust and {now we’ve got one|presently we possess it|currently we hold it,” says the wealthy student as the friends gather at the table, getting ready to invoke their dragon into existence with the strength of their collective will.
As Hill puts it in his opening statement: “Here be dragons”. Don’t miss them.
A seasoned gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in online casinos and slot machine mechanics.