The Silence of the Lambs | Thomas Harris

Has there ever been a more recognisable, more evil villain than Dr Hannibal Lecter? Not many of us will be able to shake the image of Anthony Hopkins’s eyes behind that facial restraint, nor the sound of his terrifying, slithering slurp. I’m also guessing that the popularity of the name Clarice declined sharply after Jodi Foster’s 1991 portrayal of the fresh-faced FBI agent, Clarice Starling.

The seven Oscars The Silence of the Lambs won attest to its genius and confirm the ground-breaking nature of the film. But, in order for the film to exist, there had to be a source, so let’s go back to the beginning with the Hannibal novels by Thomas Harris.

Read the rest of this feature on Crime Fiction Lover where it was originally published.

Holly | Stephen King

Regular Stephen King readers will be thrilled at the return of a much-loved character from his previous works, the eccentric Holly Gibney. Holly was first introduced by King in Mr. Mercedes, and she also appeared in the next two Bill Hodges novels, Finders Keepers and End of Watch. She also featured as a character in The Outsider, as well as in the novella If It Bleeds.

After Bill Hodges’ death he left her his detective agency, Finders Keepers. Her partner, Pete Huntley is currently out of action thanks to COVID and Holly’s mother, an anti-vaxer, just passed away from the disease. For all practical purposes Finders Keepers is temporarily closed. However, when Penny Dahl desperately contacts the agency in order to locate her missing daughter, Bonnie, Holly’s inherent curiosity is piqued. Investigating a case during COVID presents its own set of challenges, especially for a hypochondriac who didn’t like strangers in her space even before the pandemic.

Bonnie, an assistant librarian at a nearby campus, has been missing for three weeks after leaving a note saying, “I’ve had enough.” The ambiguous message raises many questions, but Penny Dahl needs an explanation. As Holly begins her investigation and we, the readers, are given information on previous incidents, it becomes clear that Bonnie was not the first person in the area to go missing.

Jorge Castro, a Bell College lecturer, vanished in 2012, and Cary Dressler disappeared in 2015. Three years later, Ellen Craslow, a janitor at the same college, went missing, as did Peter ‘Stinky’ Steinmann, a local skateboarder. In conjunction with Bonnie Dahl’s disappearance, King gives us glimpses into the lives of these victims and who kidnapped them. As a result, this isn’t a whodunnit, but rather a question of “When will they be caught?”

The killers come too close for comfort when Barbara Robinson, the sister of Jerome who is also a colleague of Holly, Jerome, unknowingly crosses paths with them. Barbara eventually plays a cardinal role in solving the case. There are quite a few references to previous events including these characters, as well as the death of Bill Hodges and Holly’s involvement. It does feel like one would have benefitted from having read previous books even though it’s not pivotal to the plot.

Even though Holly is ultimately a crime novel, there’s a strong injection of typical King horror. He has the ability to put the reader at ease, to make them feel welcome in this cosy small-town street where nothing seems to happen. Right from the first page we’re firmly placed in the setting of the book. The narrator is, like us, is an observer of the neighbourhood and its residents, as if he is viewing events from afar.

Then he pulls the rug out from under us by introducing a murderous couple who appear as harmless as the neighbourhood in which they live. The terror here isn’t supernatural, as it is in many of King’s books. Instead, it is very real and resides in your neighbourhood. This is far scarier than an evil clown hiding in a sewer.

Throughout, King does not hesitate to bombard the reader with political commentary on Trump, the far right, and anti-vaxers, while also incorporating COVID into the narrative. At times, this dominates the plot, making it feel like propaganda and preachy or judgmental. Naturally the impact COVID has on someone like Holly with obsessive-compulsive tendencies must be mentioned, but it feels that King goes too far by referring to handwashing, mask-wearing, and elbow-greeting at nearly every interaction a character has.

Nonetheless, he succeeds in creating a claustrophobic and terrifying atmosphere, combining it with authentic and believable characters, and incorporating numerous meta references ranging from Veronica Mars to The Princess Bride. Holly is a great choice for both new and seasoned King readers, provided you can handle reading about COVID-19.

Holly is published by Hodder & Stoughton in the UK and distributed by Jonathan Ball in South Africa. Thank you to the Jonathan Ball team for sending me a review copy of this book.

A Delicate Condition | Danielle Valentine

In Danielle Valentine’s first adult horror-thriller, a woman’s pregnancy fears become a terrifying reality, highlighting both the sacrifices women make for motherhood and the societal obstacles they frequently face.

Viper is known for publishing ground-breaking fiction that deviates from mainstream predictability. Delicate Condition is a prime example. That being said, if you’re pregnant and prone to worrying, you might want to wait until your baby is safely delivered before reading this borderline horror. The fact that it’s billed as “a feminist update of Rosemary’s Baby” should give you a hint.

Actress Anna Alcott, who gained popularity from a cult favourite television series, has been trying in vain to start a family with her husband Dexter. As Anna manages IVF and the psychological effects of her infertility, she is pressured by her agent to attend public events in order to advance her career.

Something doesn’t feel right to Anna, as if someone or something is attempting to keep her from becoming pregnant. Her doctor’s appointments are abruptly changed without her knowledge, and the medication on which she is dependent is lost. Dexter dismisses it as hormonal forgetfulness, and Anna begins to question her own sanity.

“We all give something up in exchange for our babies.”

When her doctor tells her that she’s lost the baby, Anna’s not convinced. She still feels pregnant. Is she in denial about her loss, or is something inexplicable and strange going on? In the end, she’s alone because neither her husband nor her doctor believes her.

The true horror in Delicate Condition is not the difficulties of conceiving or challenges of pregnancy, but the consistent gaslighting of women’s needs by their husbands and medical professionals during this trying time. Valentine embeds this reality into a riveting, frequently hair-raising, tale which is equal parts ominous and thoroughly entertaining. If you enjoy fiction which steers away from the well-trodden, formulaic path (and you’re not currently pregnant) this will be right up your alley.

A Delicate Condition is published by Viper, a Serpent’s Tail imprint, and distributed in South Africa by Jonathan Ball who provided me with a review copy.

Rouge | Mona Awad

In 2020 in the midst of Covid Bunny introduced us to the weirdly wonderful, surreal and often terrifying world of Mona Awad. Samantha, the main character in Bunny, was invited into the inner circle of an exclusive group known as the Bunnies. Similarly to Samantha Belle she gets more than she bargained for when she is enticed to a mysterious spa that promises eternal beauty. Both characters have difficulty reconciling their real lives with the one they want to live in, a world in which they feel special and accepted.

The first chapter’s opening quote ought to give readers an idea of what to expect from the pages that follow. Elena Ferrante is quoted as saying:

“Because what is the face, what finally, is the skin over flesh, a cover, a disguise, rouge for the insupportable horror of our living nature.”

Belle and her mother have spent their entire lives fighting against the signs of ageing and gradual decay. Despite arduous, often ridiculous, treatments, creams, and serums, the lines on one’s face will always reveal the passage of time.

Following her suspicious death from falling off a cliff, Belle travels back to Southern California from Montreal to attend her mother’s funeral. Belle has always been fixated on her skin and skincare, just like her mother. She obsessively watches Dr. Marva’s popular YouTube channel, and she’ll try anything to keep herself from ageing. At the funeral, a mysterious red-clad woman appears and shortly after when Belle notices a video about a “transformative spa experience” she jumps at the chance to learn more about La Maison de Médus, the spa her mother was a member of. But is the spa and it’s peculiar inhabitants a cult or a beauty establishment. Or are they just two sides of the same obsession coin?

On the surface Rouge is a surreal horror incorporating dark fairy tale element, but it also touches on three themes. That of the mother-daughter relationship and how a dysfunctional one can cause nearly irreparable harm. Second, it emphasises the need to be accepted and to be a part of a group. Belle’s father was of Egyptian descent, and her skin tone differs from her mother’s lily-white complexion, making her feel like an outsider. This is also something her unemotionally available and cruel mother reminds her of on a regular basis, further alienating her. Finally, Rouge is a scathing critique of the beauty industry and the vulnerability of women as a result of societal pressures and their own insecurities.

Even though Rouge‘s subject matter is relevant in today’s beauty influencer and artificial world, it doesn’t quite packs the punch it could have. It’s batshit crazy and completely unique, but perhaps that’s what detracts from a potentially more interesting storyline.

Rouge is published by Scribner and distributed by Jonathan Ball in South Africa who also kindly sent me a copy for review.

The Night House | Jo Nesbo

Norwegian Jo Nesbo’s new novel is a departure from his crime novels, which feature the beloved character Harry Hole, and is set in an entirely different genre, horror. The cover’s homage to old-school horror posters is the first indication of Nesbo’s shift, but the content mirrors it’s gory nature.

At first glance, Richard Elauved’s story appears to be a coming-of-age tale with a dash of horror thrown in, something that might appeal to young adult readers. But don’t be deceived, this is only the beginning of Richard’s story, and Nesbo delivers something psychologically far darker and more savage than initially expected.

Fourteen-year-old Richard is sent to live with his aunt and uncle in Ballantyne after his parents are killed when their house burns down. After living in the city Richard finds living in a small, remote town boring and uses his classmates as an outlet for his frustration and turns into an obnoxious bully. He subsequently becomes an outcast and easy scapegoat when one of his classmates, Tom, mysteriously disappears. It doesn’t help his case that Richard was with Tom when he vanished. The boys were making prank calls from a telephone booth on the outskirts of the woods when a call to a man named Imu Jonasson took a terrifying supernatural turn. Tom was sucked into the receiver and completely vanished before Richard’s eyes. Understandably, the police and the rest of the town do not believe his story about a flesh-eating telephone.

With the encouragement of Karen, the only person who believes him, and the assistance of the local librarian, Mrs Zimmer, Richard locates Imu Jonasson’s address in an old phone book. The Night House is an abandoned and hair-raisingly creepy building in the Mirror Forest. Richard drags Jack, or Fatso as he calls him, with him to explore the house, but the two boys are scared away by a swarm of cicadas and the unsettling sight of a man’s pale face in the window.

When a second of Richard’s classmates goes missing, the town begins to turn against him. No one had ever gone missing in Ballantyne prior to Richard’s arrival. As events escalate it becomes clear that an evil force is at work, and Richard is the only one who can stop it.

Fans of horror and the supernatural will enjoy Nesbo’s interpretation, but readers of crime fiction may find The Night House difficult to swallow. As with most horror this isn’t just about the blood, gore and being scared witless, it is about confronting and overcoming psychological fears and challenges. A perfect read for spooky October.

The Night House is published by Penguin and they provided me for a copy to review via the NetGalley website.