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A review by ghostboyreads
We Spread by Iain Reid
4.0
"I move my sleeve up a bit more, to reveal another mark, this one bigger, and protruding from my skin in three dimensions, like fungus, like lichens. Horrified, I lift my shirt more to reveal that almost all of my torso is covered with the bulging fungus. "
We Spread is an insanely tender and compassionate horror novel. As is traditional of the genre, it's a slow moving thing, something that begins in a rather benign fashion. But, that's where what is typical ends with this novel, it's something so uniquely powerful that it's more experienced than read. Something difficult to review and even more challenging to explain, We Spread does, as all great novels do: It forces us to gaze upon our greatest fears and insecurities, it evokes strong and uneasy feelings within us, ones that, aren't exactly pleasant to experience. And, that's the thing, it's not a nice book to read, when it came time for me to once again pick up We Spread, I didn't want to, not because it's a bad book, but because I was becoming desperate to avoid how horrific and lonely it really is.
This is such an unbelievably depressing novel, it's a complete sucker-punch to the gut. Disjointed and strange, with sparse prose and yet somehow, oh so beautifully written, We Spread just feels so damn horrific, akin to experiencing the worst fever dream imaginable, and then having to accept that it's become your reality. It's all very fragmented, surreal and hazy, the sort of novel that's entirely open to interpretation. There's no clear-cut answer here, everything is off-kilter and extremely wrong but, it's hard to place exactly why, even the ending leaves itself intentionally vague and encourages readers to form their own conclusions. So distressing and so isolating, We Spread is so much more than just another horror novel, this is truly, something special.
We Spread is an insanely tender and compassionate horror novel. As is traditional of the genre, it's a slow moving thing, something that begins in a rather benign fashion. But, that's where what is typical ends with this novel, it's something so uniquely powerful that it's more experienced than read. Something difficult to review and even more challenging to explain, We Spread does, as all great novels do: It forces us to gaze upon our greatest fears and insecurities, it evokes strong and uneasy feelings within us, ones that, aren't exactly pleasant to experience. And, that's the thing, it's not a nice book to read, when it came time for me to once again pick up We Spread, I didn't want to, not because it's a bad book, but because I was becoming desperate to avoid how horrific and lonely it really is.
This is such an unbelievably depressing novel, it's a complete sucker-punch to the gut. Disjointed and strange, with sparse prose and yet somehow, oh so beautifully written, We Spread just feels so damn horrific, akin to experiencing the worst fever dream imaginable, and then having to accept that it's become your reality. It's all very fragmented, surreal and hazy, the sort of novel that's entirely open to interpretation. There's no clear-cut answer here, everything is off-kilter and extremely wrong but, it's hard to place exactly why, even the ending leaves itself intentionally vague and encourages readers to form their own conclusions. So distressing and so isolating, We Spread is so much more than just another horror novel, this is truly, something special.
"Perhaps this physical decline was inevitable. It's what he dreaded most: seeing a depleted shape looking back in the mirror, the feeling that he'd lost his chance to create. Could he have done anything to stop it? Could I? To reverse it? The finish line always, eventually, arrives. It has to. That's life. It's the tragedy of lie: the end comes for us all. People on the sidewalk pass me by, stepping around me, without eye contract or acknowledgement."
There are so few novels out there that can capture the terror of the mundane and the ordinary as strongly as this one does. We Spread does a uniquely brilliant job of dropping us right into the mind of our protagonist, leaving us feeling as lost and as confused as they do. Both gorgeous and ugly, this feels like an intensely personal novel. It explores, what is, a very real fear for so many of us. Sometimes, when horror is rooted in reality, it's just that much more effective, and that's where We Spread really shines, this isn't horror of monsters or paranormal entities, this is a muted, quiet kind of horror, a murmuring in the background, something that resonates deeply within our souls.
"As we grew older, we spent more time apart, even when we were both home in the apartment. He despised aging and didn't trust his crumbling body. The love I'd felt for him faded and detached. There was nothing to hold it in place. No more mystery. Nothing to learn. Wonder was replaced with awareness. By the end, it wasn't just familiarity. I had a total and complete understanding of him."