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3.46 AVERAGE
3.46 AVERAGE
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
This read like someone's first attempt at a super edgy horror fan fiction on DeviantArt. The introduction wasn't bad (although it definitely gives the vibes of "girl written by a man") with a girl trapped in an apocalyptic situation with a shitty mother and dead father and then the monsters came and it went downhill faster than the Top Thrill at Cedar Point. Everything moved so fast and with edgy quips amidst the weird descriptions of the monsters. The only reason I finished was that it was akin to a train wreck you can't look away from.
Well I'm at least pleased to say that the last third of this book didn't upset me as much as the first two thirds. Still disturbing though, and lots of utterly depraved imagery. Of the works by this author I've read so far, I definitely liked this the least. I understand the intention of this story and it works as an exploration of grief/trauma through a horror lens, but it was personally too much of a gross bummer for me.
Merged review:
Well I'm at least pleased to say that the last third of this book didn't upset me as much as the first two thirds. Still disturbing though, and lots of utterly depraved imagery. Of the works by this author I've read so far, I definitely liked this the least. I understand the intention of this story and it works as an exploration of grief/trauma through a horror lens, but it was personally too much of a gross bummer for me.
Merged review:
Well I'm at least pleased to say that the last third of this book didn't upset me as much as the first two thirds. Still disturbing though, and lots of utterly depraved imagery. Of the works by this author I've read so far, I definitely liked this the least. I understand the intention of this story and it works as an exploration of grief/trauma through a horror lens, but it was personally too much of a gross bummer for me.
Very engaging, smart, and unique, but not something that blew me away or that I think I’ll sit with. Still really enjoying following LaRocca’s works as they release, though!
Merged review:
Very engaging, smart, and unique, but not something that blew me away or that I think I’ll sit with. Still really enjoying following LaRocca’s works as they release, though!
Merged review:
Very engaging, smart, and unique, but not something that blew me away or that I think I’ll sit with. Still really enjoying following LaRocca’s works as they release, though!
It's a conflicted 3 star rating.
This is my third read from Eric LaRocca and although I liked the first one I read, I didn't care much for the second one. There were definitely moments in this that unsettled me and reminded me of the second film in The House on Netflix.
Merged review:
It's a conflicted 3 star rating.
This is my third read from Eric LaRocca and although I liked the first one I read, I didn't care much for the second one. There were definitely moments in this that unsettled me and reminded me of the second film in The House on Netflix.
This is my third read from Eric LaRocca and although I liked the first one I read, I didn't care much for the second one. There were definitely moments in this that unsettled me and reminded me of the second film in The House on Netflix.
Merged review:
It's a conflicted 3 star rating.
This is my third read from Eric LaRocca and although I liked the first one I read, I didn't care much for the second one. There were definitely moments in this that unsettled me and reminded me of the second film in The House on Netflix.
“What are you afraid of?”he asked.”Letting go, or being left with nothing to hold?”
What a melancholic, claustrophobic, dystopian fever dream of a novella. Eric LaRocca never fails to build an atmosphere full of pain, angst, destruction, and brokenness.
And he does it so beautifully. I’m always moved by his writing, even in its most grotesque form— there’s poetry tucked away in the words.
We Can Never Leave This Place is a disquieting, almost fairytale-esque story that follows fifteen year old Mara through all of her darkness. Mara and her mother live in a dirty, boarded up apartment in an unnamed and war-torn country. It seems like a post-apocalyptic wasteland where children are getting shot up outside of their home like it’s a regular day, and militias make their rounds checking people’s documentation. Leaving your home is extremely dangerous— and food is scarce. After Mara’s father is murdered while out scavenging for food, all she has left is her mother. A mother scorned— one full of hatred for her own child. Reading this hurts. The rejection Mara feels. The stifling carelessness. The suffocation in their tiny, sewage filled apartment that mother refuses to get fixed. MotherhatesMara, but Mara just wants love. She wants to understand. A lot of the book focuses on Mara’s battle to simply live in peace. To bond with her mom. To feel love. But this doesn’t happen, especially when Mara’s mom decides to invite a dangerous creature inside of their home and reveals a shattering secret about her father.
But we never get to read about love and bonding— and I think that’s the most depressing realization. This is a book full of sadness, misery, and trauma.
I always love the atmosphere that LaRocca manages to build. What an incredible depiction of a life in extreme poverty. The entirety of the novella takes place in this tiny apartment that is barely a structure at all. There are blankets instead of doors, boarded up windows, vomit and excrement float amongst the ankle-deep sewage water as Mara sloshes from room to room, and a loaf of bread is considered as two weeks of food supply. You can feel the suffocating ambiance as you read— and this atmospheric space assists you in understanding Mara’s pain. It’s kinda deep.
And there is so much more emotion versus plot. You’re reading one strange encounter after the next— nightmarish after nightmarish situation. So rather than subtext, there’s just a plethora of really dark encounters and situations.
And I do love the element of how the war kind of goes from outside— to breaching the walls of Mara’s own apartment, her own life. I think that was pretty powerful.
And as I always say— though a part of me always wonders what the fuck LaRocca is talking about, he’s a brilliant writer. And he’s going to write whatever the fuck pops up in that little head of his— we’re just tagging along on his insane escapades. And I will always be here for it. He knows how to make you feel horror in a way that’s deeper than a jump scare. I love that— I can always get behind that.
What gets me even more is how the fire ass covers of his books NEVER give any hints to the story inside, but his titles always do. You read the story and then match it up to the title and you’re like— wow, incredible.
I just adore him. LaRocca girlie for life.
What a melancholic, claustrophobic, dystopian fever dream of a novella. Eric LaRocca never fails to build an atmosphere full of pain, angst, destruction, and brokenness.
And he does it so beautifully. I’m always moved by his writing, even in its most grotesque form— there’s poetry tucked away in the words.
We Can Never Leave This Place is a disquieting, almost fairytale-esque story that follows fifteen year old Mara through all of her darkness. Mara and her mother live in a dirty, boarded up apartment in an unnamed and war-torn country. It seems like a post-apocalyptic wasteland where children are getting shot up outside of their home like it’s a regular day, and militias make their rounds checking people’s documentation. Leaving your home is extremely dangerous— and food is scarce. After Mara’s father is murdered while out scavenging for food, all she has left is her mother. A mother scorned— one full of hatred for her own child. Reading this hurts. The rejection Mara feels. The stifling carelessness. The suffocation in their tiny, sewage filled apartment that mother refuses to get fixed. MotherhatesMara, but Mara just wants love. She wants to understand. A lot of the book focuses on Mara’s battle to simply live in peace. To bond with her mom. To feel love. But this doesn’t happen, especially when Mara’s mom decides to invite a dangerous creature inside of their home and reveals a shattering secret about her father.
But we never get to read about love and bonding— and I think that’s the most depressing realization. This is a book full of sadness, misery, and trauma.
I always love the atmosphere that LaRocca manages to build. What an incredible depiction of a life in extreme poverty. The entirety of the novella takes place in this tiny apartment that is barely a structure at all. There are blankets instead of doors, boarded up windows, vomit and excrement float amongst the ankle-deep sewage water as Mara sloshes from room to room, and a loaf of bread is considered as two weeks of food supply. You can feel the suffocating ambiance as you read— and this atmospheric space assists you in understanding Mara’s pain. It’s kinda deep.
And there is so much more emotion versus plot. You’re reading one strange encounter after the next— nightmarish after nightmarish situation. So rather than subtext, there’s just a plethora of really dark encounters and situations.
And I do love the element of how the war kind of goes from outside— to breaching the walls of Mara’s own apartment, her own life. I think that was pretty powerful.
And as I always say— though a part of me always wonders what the fuck LaRocca is talking about, he’s a brilliant writer. And he’s going to write whatever the fuck pops up in that little head of his— we’re just tagging along on his insane escapades. And I will always be here for it. He knows how to make you feel horror in a way that’s deeper than a jump scare. I love that— I can always get behind that.
What gets me even more is how the fire ass covers of his books NEVER give any hints to the story inside, but his titles always do. You read the story and then match it up to the title and you’re like— wow, incredible.
I just adore him. LaRocca girlie for life.
I hated this. It was written well and had some interesting ideas, but this is a genre I just haven’t be able to stomach ever since I had a baby. That’s what I get for impulsively buying tiktok recommendations.
Merged review:
I hated this. It was written well and had some interesting ideas, but this is a genre I just haven’t be able to stomach ever since I had a baby. That’s what I get for impulsively buying tiktok recommendations.
Merged review:
I hated this. It was written well and had some interesting ideas, but this is a genre I just haven’t be able to stomach ever since I had a baby. That’s what I get for impulsively buying tiktok recommendations.
I don't approach every book with the desire to feel intensely while reading it, but I cannot recall anything in the past several years that piqued such strong, disparate feelings in me than this book by Eric LaRocca. It felt like the unhappy intersection between a fable, a nightmare, and a coming of age tale, all overshadowed by the familiar horror of grief. Familiar for some, I suppose — halfway through this novel, I realized that it was tugging on my own experiences with grief and loss, unrelated as they were.
And yet, this wasn't just a novel about feeling intensely. The characters were immaculately drawn with powerful voices and agencies of their own (which are often inflicted upon one another with tragic consequence.) Though this will be a difficult book to recommend widely (it's brutal, with an extra-squishy helping of grotesque) I... might just do so, anyway. It's going to haunt me for a long while, but it's a story that's interested in the things we'd often not like to think about, but truly should.
Merged review:
I don't approach every book with the desire to feel intensely while reading it, but I cannot recall anything in the past several years that piqued such strong, disparate feelings in me than this book by Eric LaRocca. It felt like the unhappy intersection between a fable, a nightmare, and a coming of age tale, all overshadowed by the familiar horror of grief. Familiar for some, I suppose — halfway through this novel, I realized that it was tugging on my own experiences with grief and loss, unrelated as they were.
And yet, this wasn't just a novel about feeling intensely. The characters were immaculately drawn with powerful voices and agencies of their own (which are often inflicted upon one another with tragic consequence.) Though this will be a difficult book to recommend widely (it's brutal, with an extra-squishy helping of grotesque) I... might just do so, anyway. It's going to haunt me for a long while, but it's a story that's interested in the things we'd often not like to think about, but truly should.
And yet, this wasn't just a novel about feeling intensely. The characters were immaculately drawn with powerful voices and agencies of their own (which are often inflicted upon one another with tragic consequence.) Though this will be a difficult book to recommend widely (it's brutal, with an extra-squishy helping of grotesque) I... might just do so, anyway. It's going to haunt me for a long while, but it's a story that's interested in the things we'd often not like to think about, but truly should.
Merged review:
I don't approach every book with the desire to feel intensely while reading it, but I cannot recall anything in the past several years that piqued such strong, disparate feelings in me than this book by Eric LaRocca. It felt like the unhappy intersection between a fable, a nightmare, and a coming of age tale, all overshadowed by the familiar horror of grief. Familiar for some, I suppose — halfway through this novel, I realized that it was tugging on my own experiences with grief and loss, unrelated as they were.
And yet, this wasn't just a novel about feeling intensely. The characters were immaculately drawn with powerful voices and agencies of their own (which are often inflicted upon one another with tragic consequence.) Though this will be a difficult book to recommend widely (it's brutal, with an extra-squishy helping of grotesque) I... might just do so, anyway. It's going to haunt me for a long while, but it's a story that's interested in the things we'd often not like to think about, but truly should.
Disturbingly brilliant.
Mara is a story teller, and she told her story.
Scary when you consider what some people went through during the times of war.
I made the connection between the ‘guests’ and the last chapter around half way through.
This kinda reminded me of that movie Mother!
Merged review:
Disturbingly brilliant.
Mara is a story teller, and she told her story.
Scary when you consider what some people went through during the times of war.
I made the connection between the ‘guests’ and the last chapter around half way through.
This kinda reminded me of that movie Mother!
Mara is a story teller, and she told her story.
Scary when you consider what some people went through during the times of war.
I made the connection between the ‘guests’ and the last chapter around half way through.
This kinda reminded me of that movie Mother!
Merged review:
Disturbingly brilliant.
Mara is a story teller, and she told her story.
Scary when you consider what some people went through during the times of war.
I made the connection between the ‘guests’ and the last chapter around half way through.
This kinda reminded me of that movie Mother!