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A review by ojtheviking
The Pallbearers Club by Paul Tremblay
4.0
Now, this novel caught me by surprise in a wonderful way. It's my first time reading anything by Paul Tremblay, but after having finished The Pallbearers Club, I am very interested – and intent on – reading more of his work. What a weird and beautiful book this is.
The premise borders on something a bit epistolary-like, as we have the character Mercy finding the script for the memoir of her friend Art. That is to say, Art himself claims it's his memoir, while Mercy will adamantly insist that it's more of a novel, as she considers a lot of his anecdotes to be exaggerated and flat-out fictional. This is one of the most unique things about this novel. We are sort of reading it along with Mercy, and she's making little interjections and quips along the way through handwritten comments in the margins, as well as offering her overall thoughts at the end of each chapter. There's something a little meta about this, as if Tremblay himself is making jabs at his own writings, and channeling people who might have offered comments on his writing in the past. (However, that's just me speculating)
And because of Mercy's commentary, we find ourselves possibly dealing with an unreliable narrator, as she picks apart things he has claimed and objects to them, making us wonder if he is misremembering details or exaggerating them for dramatic effect. At the same time, the way Mercy herself “sets the record straight” comes across as self-serving. Thus, both characters ultimately come across as unreliable narrators, albeit for separate reasons. And we're left to wonder what is real or not.
Tremblay's writing is masterful, incredibly sharp, and at times beyond witty. The humor is effortless and deadpan, often based on the combination of Art's awkwardness and self-deprecation, and Mercy's snarky playfulness. Some moments are simultaneously absurd and relatable, and I found myself chuckling several times. Tremblay also has a delightful way of turning nouns into verbs, such as how someone “supervillained a laugh.” Descriptions like that truly add to the overall humor and feel.
Since the novel had the “horror” tag, one might ask: Are there many scares throughout the story? I'd say for the most part no, but it's also not trying to be that kind of horror story. There are some suspenseful, fever dream-like moments with horror undertones, potentially something supernatural depending on whether Art's memoir is to be believed. Ghoulish sprinkles here and there to give some unique flavor to the nervous-geek-befriends-cool-rock-chick trope, and done in a superb way.
In other words, it's not necessarily meant to be a novel that will keep you up at night after it has given you terrifying nightmares. What it is instead, is a story that is captivating, quirky, surreal at times, funny, a story that gives the rock scene's term “battle jacket” a whole new meaning, and ambiguous, but with a lot of heart – especially when certain things become somewhat more clear and begin to make sense – and I can safely say The Pallbearers Club has now become one of my favorite reads so far in 2023.
The premise borders on something a bit epistolary-like, as we have the character Mercy finding the script for the memoir of her friend Art. That is to say, Art himself claims it's his memoir, while Mercy will adamantly insist that it's more of a novel, as she considers a lot of his anecdotes to be exaggerated and flat-out fictional. This is one of the most unique things about this novel. We are sort of reading it along with Mercy, and she's making little interjections and quips along the way through handwritten comments in the margins, as well as offering her overall thoughts at the end of each chapter. There's something a little meta about this, as if Tremblay himself is making jabs at his own writings, and channeling people who might have offered comments on his writing in the past. (However, that's just me speculating)
And because of Mercy's commentary, we find ourselves possibly dealing with an unreliable narrator, as she picks apart things he has claimed and objects to them, making us wonder if he is misremembering details or exaggerating them for dramatic effect. At the same time, the way Mercy herself “sets the record straight” comes across as self-serving. Thus, both characters ultimately come across as unreliable narrators, albeit for separate reasons. And we're left to wonder what is real or not.
Tremblay's writing is masterful, incredibly sharp, and at times beyond witty. The humor is effortless and deadpan, often based on the combination of Art's awkwardness and self-deprecation, and Mercy's snarky playfulness. Some moments are simultaneously absurd and relatable, and I found myself chuckling several times. Tremblay also has a delightful way of turning nouns into verbs, such as how someone “supervillained a laugh.” Descriptions like that truly add to the overall humor and feel.
Since the novel had the “horror” tag, one might ask: Are there many scares throughout the story? I'd say for the most part no, but it's also not trying to be that kind of horror story. There are some suspenseful, fever dream-like moments with horror undertones, potentially something supernatural depending on whether Art's memoir is to be believed. Ghoulish sprinkles here and there to give some unique flavor to the nervous-geek-befriends-cool-rock-chick trope, and done in a superb way.
In other words, it's not necessarily meant to be a novel that will keep you up at night after it has given you terrifying nightmares. What it is instead, is a story that is captivating, quirky, surreal at times, funny, a story that gives the rock scene's term “battle jacket” a whole new meaning, and ambiguous, but with a lot of heart – especially when certain things become somewhat more clear and begin to make sense – and I can safely say The Pallbearers Club has now become one of my favorite reads so far in 2023.