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lynxpardinus's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
4.75
Content Warnings
Graphic: Terminal illness, Death of parent, Body horror, Confinement, Grief, and Medical content
Moderate: Sexual content, Violence, Vomit, Dementia, Death, Injury/Injury detail, and Mental illness
Minor: Incest, Fire/Fire injury, Forced institutionalization, Homophobia, and Sexual harassment
chris_reads's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
I genuinely don't know what to feel about this. Somehow really good and meh simultaneously. I loved the prose and themes and atmosphere, but I also felt like I was missing something? It ends in a somewhat inconclusive way in which I'm not really sure what the author was trying to say.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Abandonment, Confinement, and Mental illness
Moderate: Body horror, Dysphoria, and Medical content
Minor: Dementia and Eating disorder
lowkeymarie's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
As beautiful as it was unsettling. The only reason it gets a 4 instead of a 5 is because I'm honestly not sure how I feel about the ending. But absolutely worth a read!
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death of parent and Panic attacks/disorders
Moderate: Dementia
Minor: Suicide
lily_peach's review against another edition
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Medical content, Abandonment, Confinement, Mental illness, Terminal illness, Gore, Vomit, Death of parent, Blood, Death, and Grief
Moderate: Sexual content, Animal death, Fatphobia, and Eating disorder
Minor: Alcohol, Lesbophobia, Dementia, and Homophobia
rosesofthespring's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
2.5
Armfield sets up a fantastic premise. What happens to people after the horror novel ends? How does it affect them? How does it affect their lives and loved ones? This is one of the more unique ideas I've ever seen for a split-POV novel.
Unfortunately, I can't say I enjoyed the execution. While I was very engaged with the mystery in Leah's chapters, I quickly grew soured on Miri's. I understand the concept. Miri is going through grief, which is one of - if not the - most challenging experience(s) in a person's life. She is flashing back to previous memorable moments and previous periods of grieving. While this makes sense in theory, in practice it means that 2/3rds of the book (Miri's chapters are much longer than Leah's) is rarely concerned with the central mystery.
Before I get too critical, I want to make it clear that there are many positives to this book. Armfield is extremely good at creating tension in a small space. The thoughts and behavior of people trapped in a confined space are shown well. Often I find that writers go too far in either direction, either opting for pure boredom or immediate claustrophobic panic. Armfield walks the line in a way that feels realistic. I also love the portrayal of the Centre as an unknowable horror in its own right, a bureaucratic monstrosity that's always sitting right at the edge of everyone's mind. The writing style fits the nostalgic, surreal nature of the story. The two POVs do not feel interchangeable the way they often do when handled by a less proficient author. The two women have distinct voices and thought patterns.
The rest of this review will be far more negative.
Miri flits in and out of engaging with the issue at hand, which is understandable, but whenever given the opportunity to get out of her own head, she refuses. This comes to a head when, 75% of the way through the book, someone shows up and basically says, "Hey, would you like to learn more about the central conflict?" To which she promptly responds, "No." and leaves. After spending more than 100 pages subjected to Miri's self-pitying, judgmental, unpleasant inner monologue, that scene felt like a joke at my expense.
I personally didn't feel like either storyline reached a satisfying conclusion, but YMMV there, that's extremely subjective. I think I can see what they were going for, at least in terms of handling Miri's relationship with grief, but it didn't feel like she experienced much significant growth. This might just be because the book ends immediately after a major character moment. I was left unsure whether I was supposed to read it literally or metaphorically. This ambiguity is very likely intentional, but the fact remains that it didn't feel substantial to me.
There are two strange things, given the air of mysteries, that are never resolved in the text.1. The upstairs neighbors. I feel like this is supposed to be simple set dressing, but an enormous amount of time is dedicated to it. I started thinking they must tie into the story when Miri pointed out that she'd never seen anyone up there, and she didn't hear any signs of life aside from the TV changing channels. I don't really understand the point of setting all that up if it's not supposed to be important. I guess it was just intended to amplify the surreal nature of Miri's situation. 2. The strange phone calls. I guess these were also just intended as a weird little quirk. When it turned out that a second character had been receiving similar calls, I held out hope that there would be some kind of explanation. Alas, no. I understand that over-explanation is the death of horror, but sometimes under-explanation becomes equally frustrating.
On a non-plot note: there is one bisexual woman introduced in the course of this book. She is portrayed as an argumentative lush with no sense of personal boundaries. The very first piece of description we get is that she is, quote, "loudly bisexual," a fact which I was delighted by. Then it quickly becomes clear that this description is intended as an insult. The fact that "she likes people to know" about her bisexuality is treated like a flaw. A detriment to a person who is otherwise "all right." This character is brought up a couple more times through the book, exclusively so people can talk about how much they don't like her. I'm not saying it's unacceptable to have portrayals of marginalized characters who behave badly and are generally disliked. I'm not even saying this character's behavior is unrealistic or poorly written. My problem is that every moment of a character's portrayal is a choice the author makes. When this is the only bisexual character in a book marketed toward an LGBT audience, it feels less like an in-universe fact and more like an author's statement. If Armfield finds the presence of people like me so wholly unpleasant, I promise I will not sully the pages of any of her other works with my loudly bisexual hands.
Unfortunately, I can't say I enjoyed the execution. While I was very engaged with the mystery in Leah's chapters, I quickly grew soured on Miri's. I understand the concept. Miri is going through grief, which is one of - if not the - most challenging experience(s) in a person's life. She is flashing back to previous memorable moments and previous periods of grieving. While this makes sense in theory, in practice it means that 2/3rds of the book (Miri's chapters are much longer than Leah's) is rarely concerned with the central mystery.
Before I get too critical, I want to make it clear that there are many positives to this book. Armfield is extremely good at creating tension in a small space. The thoughts and behavior of people trapped in a confined space are shown well. Often I find that writers go too far in either direction, either opting for pure boredom or immediate claustrophobic panic. Armfield walks the line in a way that feels realistic. I also love the portrayal of the Centre as an unknowable horror in its own right, a bureaucratic monstrosity that's always sitting right at the edge of everyone's mind. The writing style fits the nostalgic, surreal nature of the story. The two POVs do not feel interchangeable the way they often do when handled by a less proficient author. The two women have distinct voices and thought patterns.
The rest of this review will be far more negative.
Miri flits in and out of engaging with the issue at hand, which is understandable, but whenever given the opportunity to get out of her own head, she refuses. This comes to a head when, 75% of the way through the book, someone shows up and basically says, "Hey, would you like to learn more about the central conflict?" To which she promptly responds, "No." and leaves. After spending more than 100 pages subjected to Miri's self-pitying, judgmental, unpleasant inner monologue, that scene felt like a joke at my expense.
I personally didn't feel like either storyline reached a satisfying conclusion, but YMMV there, that's extremely subjective. I think I can see what they were going for, at least in terms of handling Miri's relationship with grief, but it didn't feel like she experienced much significant growth. This might just be because the book ends immediately after a major character moment. I was left unsure whether I was supposed to read it literally or metaphorically. This ambiguity is very likely intentional, but the fact remains that it didn't feel substantial to me.
There are two strange things, given the air of mysteries, that are never resolved in the text.
On a non-plot note: there is one bisexual woman introduced in the course of this book. She is portrayed as an argumentative lush with no sense of personal boundaries. The very first piece of description we get is that she is, quote, "loudly bisexual," a fact which I was delighted by. Then it quickly becomes clear that this description is intended as an insult. The fact that "she likes people to know" about her bisexuality is treated like a flaw. A detriment to a person who is otherwise "all right." This character is brought up a couple more times through the book, exclusively so people can talk about how much they don't like her. I'm not saying it's unacceptable to have portrayals of marginalized characters who behave badly and are generally disliked. I'm not even saying this character's behavior is unrealistic or poorly written. My problem is that every moment of a character's portrayal is a choice the author makes. When this is the only bisexual character in a book marketed toward an LGBT audience, it feels less like an in-universe fact and more like an author's statement. If Armfield finds the presence of people like me so wholly unpleasant, I promise I will not sully the pages of any of her other works with my loudly bisexual hands.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Blood, Body horror, Vomit, Grief, Confinement, and Death of parent
Moderate: Death, Dementia, Homophobia, Lesbophobia, Schizophrenia/Psychosis , Animal death, Cursing, Alcohol, and Biphobia
mamawantsbooks's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Content Warnings
Graphic: Grief, Death of parent, Dementia, Death, Body horror, Suicide, and Injury/Injury detail
emarrbee's review against another edition
dark
emotional
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror
Moderate: Death, Dementia, and Death of parent
Minor: Confinement
rebeccajost's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
A hazy horror that is primarily about loss, grief, and letting go. It’s about people missing and not returning, but also an allegory for progressive illnesses that slowly chip away at a person’s sense of self, memory, and ability to sustain oneself. It’s also about the loneliness in being a caretaker, that inability to connect to people around you, even your own support network, because of how difficult it is to explain and your desire to protect the person you care for from judgment.
The story itself, at surface level, is beautiful but doesn’t provide answers or a clear story. It is when you dive behind the story, to the story that is behind it, that you get the truly breathtaking and achingly tragic love story.
The story itself, at surface level, is beautiful but doesn’t provide answers or a clear story. It is when you dive behind the story, to the story that is behind it, that you get the truly breathtaking and achingly tragic love story.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror, Confinement, and Grief
Moderate: Terminal illness and Death of parent
Minor: Dementia
jesshindes's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
I swallowed this one in two days and loved it. Miri's wife Leah is a marine biologist whose work sometimes involves submarine missions; one day, she leaves for a three-week trip and doesn't return for six months. This novel is the story of Miri and Leah's relationship both before and after this experience, and it's also the unfolding mystery of what happened to Leah under the sea. Armfield's writing is beautiful - I can see why she's had such success with her short stories - and the novel is both weird and moving. Leah, Miri and their relationship are in lots of ways very normal; that is, they're specific enough to feel real but there's nothing particularly elevated or unusual about their relationship, just the sweet ordinary circumstance of love. Conversely, the undersea world that we see through Leah is almost impenetrably mysterious. The point at which the two come together is what gives the book its power. There are plenty of loose ends unresolved, but I think in horror (which is probably one of the genres this sits in - alongside sci-fi and romance) that can be a good thing and it certainly didn't leave me unsatisfied. Big recommendation from me (and a special shout-out to the 'My Husband in Space' RP community that Armfield concocts because it tickled me so much).
Content Warnings
Graphic: Body horror and Death
Moderate: Death of parent, Dementia, and Grief
Minor: Vomit
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