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_askthebookbug 's review for:
Motherthing
by Ainslie Hogarth
Motherthing is a bizarre book that feels more like a psychological thriller than a horror. There are quite a lot of odd things about the story but somehow it’s hard to not continue reading. The story begins with the protagonist’s mother-in-law being found with her wrists slit. Laura and her son Ralph have always shared a rather complicated relationship, with the former pulling strings. When Abby moves in to take care of Laura, she does so in the hopes of gaining a mother. But it doesn’t take much time for Abby to realise that Laura wants her son to herself.
After Laura commits suicide, Abby thinks she can finally move out of the house with Ralph and start a new life. But Laura’s spirit plants itself in the house, refusing to leave her son alone. While Ralph swims in grief, we see Abby losing her mind. Her past makes brief appearances in the story, showing how she has always found solace in a ‘Motherthing’ than in her mother. And so she tries to turn into one for Ralph. Her love is unconditional, wholesome and fierce.
As Abby sets on this mission to help her husband, she doesn’t realise her own self spiralling into the darkest depths of paranoia. And the climax is what takes the cake. There’s an ominous sense that hangs right from the start, one that’s unshakable.
Motherthing is a slow burn, one that works like quicksand. You won’t realise you’re sinking until it’s too late. I’m not a fan of horror genre but I strangely enjoyed reading this book.
After Laura commits suicide, Abby thinks she can finally move out of the house with Ralph and start a new life. But Laura’s spirit plants itself in the house, refusing to leave her son alone. While Ralph swims in grief, we see Abby losing her mind. Her past makes brief appearances in the story, showing how she has always found solace in a ‘Motherthing’ than in her mother. And so she tries to turn into one for Ralph. Her love is unconditional, wholesome and fierce.
As Abby sets on this mission to help her husband, she doesn’t realise her own self spiralling into the darkest depths of paranoia. And the climax is what takes the cake. There’s an ominous sense that hangs right from the start, one that’s unshakable.
Motherthing is a slow burn, one that works like quicksand. You won’t realise you’re sinking until it’s too late. I’m not a fan of horror genre but I strangely enjoyed reading this book.