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the_grimm_reader 's review for:
The Buffalo Hunter Hunter
by Stephen Graham Jones
I have to be honest—The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is the first book I’ve read by Stephen Graham Jones, and if this is any indication of what I’ve been missing, then I can’t wait to dive into more of his work. Last year, I picked up My Heart Is a Chainsaw at my local bookstore, but like most readers, my TBR list is ever-growing. Still, as a Goodreads user, I followed Jones on the platform and got a notification when The Buffalo Hunter Hunter was announced.
Some of my favorite pieces of fiction exist in the vampire playground, and I always get excited when someone brings something fresh to the genre. The synopsis for Buffalo Hunter Hunter presented a concept I’d never considered before, so I had high hopes that it would break new ground. When my local bookstore received three early copies last week, I immediately grabbed one and tore right in—finishing the last blood-soaked page last night.
It exceeded every expectation.
For any connoisseur of fine vampire fiction, the book offers plenty of winks and nods to classic works and lore, a strong indication that Jones himself is a fan of these ancient, dreaded predators. My first thought was, Is this Jones' Dracula? That idea was quickly shattered and consumed by the ink-stained pages. Then I wondered, Is this his Interview With the Vampire? Again, that ceiling was obliterated chapter after chapter.
This is a work of historical fiction, both horrifying and tragic. It begins in a time and place that feels familiar before pulling us back into the past through a fragile, hidden journal—one that recounts, in gory detail, the tale of our creature: the Blackfoot Indian Good Stab (who takes on many names throughout the novel). Good Stab is a complex character. There were moments I wanted to save him, and others when I wanted to run from him—but either way, I was absolutely captivated by his story.
The characters in The Buffalo Hunter Hunter have distinct voices, especially Good Stab. At first, I found myself struggling to adjust to his cadence and phrasing, but I came to believe this was intentional. Later in the book, Good Stab himself makes an observation that is reinforced by another character—we, as readers, are not meant to fully own his words in our mouths. We are meant to struggle with them.
For fans of graphic horror, body horror, and gore, this book is a feast. It’s not gratuitous or blood-for-blood’s-sake—every visceral moment is deeply tied to the story. If you enjoy films like Cronenberg’s The Fly or the recent The Substance, I think you’ll appreciate the way Jones handles horror here. He reinvents vampire mythology in ways I’ve never encountered before, introducing gifts (or curses) that sparked my imagination, especially regarding the amorphous, shifting forms the creature takes throughout the novel.
Beyond the supernatural horror, the book also sheds light on a real-world horror: the calculated slaughter of the buffalo, a cruel and despicable weapon of genocide used against the First Peoples of this continent. It’s a shameful part of history that should never be forgotten, and I feel that Jones does it justice while weaving his own original and haunting tale.
As I neared the last fifty pages, I found myself wondering how Jones would land this story. I couldn’t have predicted the final pages on my best day. He took this tragic and fantastical tale to an even wilder place, leaving me grinning—maybe even baring a sharp-toothed smile like Good Stab himself. I didn’t want it to end. But end it did—and it stuck the landing.
Now, I’m craving more. The Angel of Indian Lake trilogy is next.
One last note—the book itself is stunning. His publisher absolutely knocked it out of the park. If you can get your hands on the hardcover, do it. The cover art is striking, with a mix of satin finishing and high-gloss accents on the title. The edges of the pages are blood red (I think they call it "marbling"), and it really pops. If you love the feel of a beautifully designed book in your hands, get to your local bookstore and grab one while you can—then sink your fangs in deep.
Some of my favorite pieces of fiction exist in the vampire playground, and I always get excited when someone brings something fresh to the genre. The synopsis for Buffalo Hunter Hunter presented a concept I’d never considered before, so I had high hopes that it would break new ground. When my local bookstore received three early copies last week, I immediately grabbed one and tore right in—finishing the last blood-soaked page last night.
It exceeded every expectation.
For any connoisseur of fine vampire fiction, the book offers plenty of winks and nods to classic works and lore, a strong indication that Jones himself is a fan of these ancient, dreaded predators. My first thought was, Is this Jones' Dracula? That idea was quickly shattered and consumed by the ink-stained pages. Then I wondered, Is this his Interview With the Vampire? Again, that ceiling was obliterated chapter after chapter.
This is a work of historical fiction, both horrifying and tragic. It begins in a time and place that feels familiar before pulling us back into the past through a fragile, hidden journal—one that recounts, in gory detail, the tale of our creature: the Blackfoot Indian Good Stab (who takes on many names throughout the novel). Good Stab is a complex character. There were moments I wanted to save him, and others when I wanted to run from him—but either way, I was absolutely captivated by his story.
The characters in The Buffalo Hunter Hunter have distinct voices, especially Good Stab. At first, I found myself struggling to adjust to his cadence and phrasing, but I came to believe this was intentional. Later in the book, Good Stab himself makes an observation that is reinforced by another character—we, as readers, are not meant to fully own his words in our mouths. We are meant to struggle with them.
For fans of graphic horror, body horror, and gore, this book is a feast. It’s not gratuitous or blood-for-blood’s-sake—every visceral moment is deeply tied to the story. If you enjoy films like Cronenberg’s The Fly or the recent The Substance, I think you’ll appreciate the way Jones handles horror here. He reinvents vampire mythology in ways I’ve never encountered before, introducing gifts (or curses) that sparked my imagination, especially regarding the amorphous, shifting forms the creature takes throughout the novel.
Beyond the supernatural horror, the book also sheds light on a real-world horror: the calculated slaughter of the buffalo, a cruel and despicable weapon of genocide used against the First Peoples of this continent. It’s a shameful part of history that should never be forgotten, and I feel that Jones does it justice while weaving his own original and haunting tale.
As I neared the last fifty pages, I found myself wondering how Jones would land this story. I couldn’t have predicted the final pages on my best day. He took this tragic and fantastical tale to an even wilder place, leaving me grinning—maybe even baring a sharp-toothed smile like Good Stab himself. I didn’t want it to end. But end it did—and it stuck the landing.
Now, I’m craving more. The Angel of Indian Lake trilogy is next.
One last note—the book itself is stunning. His publisher absolutely knocked it out of the park. If you can get your hands on the hardcover, do it. The cover art is striking, with a mix of satin finishing and high-gloss accents on the title. The edges of the pages are blood red (I think they call it "marbling"), and it really pops. If you love the feel of a beautifully designed book in your hands, get to your local bookstore and grab one while you can—then sink your fangs in deep.