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A review by tobin_elliott
The Fisherman by John Langan
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This was the last of the audiobooks that I listened to on the way to NY. I got about halfway into it before arriving at my destination, and finished it in the first three hours of the trip back home.
In between, at Horror Reader Weekend, I had an interesting surprise.
I noticed, then somehow forgot that the author would also be attending the HRW. The book had been on my TBR for literally years, and I figured on the way down, I should listen to it. I remember thinking, "It's been so long, just read it!" Obviously, something in the back of my mind was twigging on me to do it because subconsciously I knew he'd be there.
Then I got the best surprise. When we set up to sell our books, I had one half of an 8-foot table. John Langan had the other half. I was literally sitting beside the guy who'd written the book I was loving.
Anyway, enough of that.
The book itself, to me, really is two stories, entwined both by location and circumstances. I will admit to thinking, toward the beginning, was there a story here at all? Or was the story that every husband in this novel lost his wife?
I shouldn't have worried. This was the ultimate slow creep of horror, hinted lightly at toward the very beginning, then Langan starts building the foundation for the end. Then, when he's ready, he shifts gears and tells a completely different story—and a creepy as hell one at that—that is, as others have said, Lovecraftian. But what I don't seem to see a lot of is how Langan brilliantly grafts those Lovecraftian horrors together with one of the biggest biblical horrors going.
And no, I won't ruin it by telling you what it is.
But this novel...all I can tell you is, it's dark, it's filled with grief and hurt and pain, it takes its time to show you the horrors, but hen it does, Langan does his best to crush you with it. Then, he revisits that grief, and keeps the horror coming.
This is the type of horror novel I wish I could write, but know damn well I'll never be able to.
In between, at Horror Reader Weekend, I had an interesting surprise.
I noticed, then somehow forgot that the author would also be attending the HRW. The book had been on my TBR for literally years, and I figured on the way down, I should listen to it. I remember thinking, "It's been so long, just read it!" Obviously, something in the back of my mind was twigging on me to do it because subconsciously I knew he'd be there.
Then I got the best surprise. When we set up to sell our books, I had one half of an 8-foot table. John Langan had the other half. I was literally sitting beside the guy who'd written the book I was loving.
Anyway, enough of that.
The book itself, to me, really is two stories, entwined both by location and circumstances. I will admit to thinking, toward the beginning, was there a story here at all? Or was the story that every husband in this novel lost his wife?
I shouldn't have worried. This was the ultimate slow creep of horror, hinted lightly at toward the very beginning, then Langan starts building the foundation for the end. Then, when he's ready, he shifts gears and tells a completely different story—and a creepy as hell one at that—that is, as others have said, Lovecraftian. But what I don't seem to see a lot of is how Langan brilliantly grafts those Lovecraftian horrors together with one of the biggest biblical horrors going.
And no, I won't ruin it by telling you what it is.
But this novel...all I can tell you is, it's dark, it's filled with grief and hurt and pain, it takes its time to show you the horrors, but hen it does, Langan does his best to crush you with it. Then, he revisits that grief, and keeps the horror coming.
This is the type of horror novel I wish I could write, but know damn well I'll never be able to.