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A review by mayhappily
Sins of the Father by J.G. Faherty
3.0
This is going to be another of my "bear with me" reviews and for that I should probably apologize. If you do take the time to read this (or any of my other "bear with me" reviews), I'm sorry.
Let's get to it, shall we?
Recently I was told of Aphantasia ("a condition where one does not possess a functioning mind's eye and cannot voluntarily visualize imagery", according to Wikipedia who in turn credited an A.J. Larner). And I'm thinking that this might be one of the reasons - just maybe - that Lovecraftian horror doesn't do the trick for me. I can't for the life of me visualize what these cephalopod creatures look like, despite there being manyfold illustrations and despite my having browsed the web in search of visual understanding.
The irony of Lovecraftian horror being defined as "horror of the unknown or unknowable" isn't lost on me.
Another reason is, I say with all certainty, the cosmic element of Lovecraftiana. I feel like the opposite of Giorgio Tsoukalos (the Ancient Alien meme guy); where he goes "Aliens!" and looks pleased as punch - I go "Aliens!" and look utterly exasperated!
I love the Xenomorph of the Alien franchise, and I love the Predator of that franchise, but other than that? No, not a big fan of aliens in [horror] fiction.
Knowing this, you might say, why did I choose to read a book that is CLEARLY inspired by Lovecraft?
I fall so easily for an interesting plot line.
Some part of me thinks that Sins of the Father deserves "a better reader" than I. It's well written, it IS interesting, on a level, and I think that readers who do enjoy cosmic horror of the unknowable would probably enjoy this a whole lot more than I did.
If I were to give some objective criticism, it is that the main story - or at least the story that takes up most of the book - is less interesting than the conclusion, which feels more like a new beginning of another story (but maybe Faherty is setting us up for a sequel? In which case, I'm almost ashamed to admit, I'll probably read that too.). That's not to say that the "main" story isn't interesting in its own way; it's just not AS interesting.
And funnily enough, I found myself more sympathetic to Henry Gilman, the MC, as events were starting to wrap up - even before the grand finish, during which I most definitely sided with him. Possibly because it took that long for Henry to seem to even begin to understand his father's choices/sins.
I felt that, as a reader, I was confused and a little conflicted in regards to how I was supposed to feel about both Henry and his father, Silas: was I intended to feel sympathy for the choices Silas made? Was Henry meant to appear somewhat callous? What about the relationship between Henry and his friend, Ben Olmstead? And that between Henry and his former paramour, Callie Olmstead? Callie and Ben? Henry and The Mother? The Mother and He Who Dreams? I have questions!
It's hard to grade Sins of the Father, because I really do feel that in the right hands it would've been better received, and I can't actually fault the book for anything other than leaving me with so many questions and not even the satisfaction of knowing that they'll be answered in a coming book.
Let's get to it, shall we?
Recently I was told of Aphantasia ("a condition where one does not possess a functioning mind's eye and cannot voluntarily visualize imagery", according to Wikipedia who in turn credited an A.J. Larner). And I'm thinking that this might be one of the reasons - just maybe - that Lovecraftian horror doesn't do the trick for me. I can't for the life of me visualize what these cephalopod creatures look like, despite there being manyfold illustrations and despite my having browsed the web in search of visual understanding.
The irony of Lovecraftian horror being defined as "horror of the unknown or unknowable" isn't lost on me.
Another reason is, I say with all certainty, the cosmic element of Lovecraftiana. I feel like the opposite of Giorgio Tsoukalos (the Ancient Alien meme guy); where he goes "Aliens!" and looks pleased as punch - I go "Aliens!" and look utterly exasperated!
I love the Xenomorph of the Alien franchise, and I love the Predator of that franchise, but other than that? No, not a big fan of aliens in [horror] fiction.
Knowing this, you might say, why did I choose to read a book that is CLEARLY inspired by Lovecraft?
I fall so easily for an interesting plot line.
Some part of me thinks that Sins of the Father deserves "a better reader" than I. It's well written, it IS interesting, on a level, and I think that readers who do enjoy cosmic horror of the unknowable would probably enjoy this a whole lot more than I did.
If I were to give some objective criticism, it is that the main story - or at least the story that takes up most of the book - is less interesting than the conclusion, which feels more like a new beginning of another story (but maybe Faherty is setting us up for a sequel? In which case, I'm almost ashamed to admit, I'll probably read that too.). That's not to say that the "main" story isn't interesting in its own way; it's just not AS interesting.
And funnily enough, I found myself more sympathetic to Henry Gilman, the MC, as events were starting to wrap up - even before the grand finish, during which I most definitely sided with him. Possibly because it took that long for Henry to seem to even begin to understand his father's choices/sins.
I felt that, as a reader, I was confused and a little conflicted in regards to how I was supposed to feel about both Henry and his father, Silas: was I intended to feel sympathy for the choices Silas made? Was Henry meant to appear somewhat callous? What about the relationship between Henry and his friend, Ben Olmstead? And that between Henry and his former paramour, Callie Olmstead? Callie and Ben? Henry and The Mother? The Mother and He Who Dreams? I have questions!
It's hard to grade Sins of the Father, because I really do feel that in the right hands it would've been better received, and I can't actually fault the book for anything other than leaving me with so many questions and not even the satisfaction of knowing that they'll be answered in a coming book.