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A review by screamdogreads
Wax & Wane by Saoirse Ní Chiaragáin
4.5
I weep. Weep as I wept in the woods, from the sheer splendor of it, the pointed teeth gnashing and flaying flesh from the bone. The pleading shrieks in languages I cannot understand, that were never meant to be spoken on this island. The muzzles of the brothers are matted with blood, their snouts digging deeper into the visceral filth of the conquered.
What an incredible, angry, furious, violent, punk as fuck, rad as all hell little book this is. Despite being so miniscule, this book is ferocious, gripping the reader with razor sharp talons from the moment they crack open the first page. Wax & Wane is an ultra visceral experience. Both affecting and highly disturbing, this fantastic little novella gifts us with a poignant and beautiful reading experience. There's passion in every word. In the intensity of it all, this book is otherworldly. This book is a rapture.
Upon reading this book, we're presented with such a frighteningly impactful tale, forced to stare in horror as a relationship disintegrates into nothingness, one partner finding their solace in a far right ideological cult - It's a tale of desperation, of the transformation, the radicalization of a loved one. We watch on, unable to look away, as a loving husband is turned to a bloodthirsty beast before our eyes. It's a gruesome story, a lovely and intimate yet disgusting and vile work of art.
What an incredible, angry, furious, violent, punk as fuck, rad as all hell little book this is. Despite being so miniscule, this book is ferocious, gripping the reader with razor sharp talons from the moment they crack open the first page. Wax & Wane is an ultra visceral experience. Both affecting and highly disturbing, this fantastic little novella gifts us with a poignant and beautiful reading experience. There's passion in every word. In the intensity of it all, this book is otherworldly. This book is a rapture.
Upon reading this book, we're presented with such a frighteningly impactful tale, forced to stare in horror as a relationship disintegrates into nothingness, one partner finding their solace in a far right ideological cult - It's a tale of desperation, of the transformation, the radicalization of a loved one. We watch on, unable to look away, as a loving husband is turned to a bloodthirsty beast before our eyes. It's a gruesome story, a lovely and intimate yet disgusting and vile work of art.
"Let her see. Let her drink in the spectacle that I am, neither man nor wolf, flesh seeking equilibrium. My panting mouth, dark with blood, the cleft healing unevenly, the ever-shifting size and shape of my eyes. Let her seek the face of the man she married and find nothing. Let her quake with fear before everything she forged, the monster shaped by her neglect."
As the story progresses it becomes a rather touching and elegant allegory for a certain kind of futility, the kind that seeps to our very core, when we can see no chance of escape. Deep down, we all know that this is a work of fiction, men don't just become werewolves, beasts who give in to the hunger, and attempt to devour their own spouses, right? Yet... You're left almost in a state of panic, because it's all too real, all too familiar, to see a once loving, caring individual take on the form of a monster. This isn't a book, it's a tempest. It's a rage fueled fever-dream you'll be desperately seek release from. It's a tidal wave that will leave you obliterated and empty when it's all over.
My spine bends and my eyes water from the pain of it all. It is almost at an end. Fissures form along my stretch marks, the skin bursting, unable to contain the growth within. Goodbye, goodbye. I'll see you all on the other side.