The Premise
A mother commits suicide for no apparent reason. Her son, Mark, discovers an abandoned house, and begins to think that the history of the family who once lived there is somehow connected to his mother's death. In his investigation of both the premises, and its history, he uncovers something supernatural, and potentially evil. At the same time, young boys and girls begin disappearing, and the police suspect a copy-cat serial killer.
In Review
If anything is scary about this novel, it is – cue foreboding music – THE RETURN OF THE BLURBS! Even now, I only have to glance at the cover of this novel to induce a wave of shudders. I read the kernels of praise delivered by such luminaries as Neil Gaiman, and my hands sweat. The large bold print that announces WINNER OF THE BRAM STOKER AWARD steals my breath, and I'm forced to shut my eyes and try and envision a happy, sunnier place; a place where no blurbs exist.
Good grief I hate these floating bits of drivel. If anything, they highlight the subjective nature of reading. Maybe these commentators did experience the “chills” and “heartbreak” they describe – but that is no guarantee the next reader will. These blurbs also reek of desperation. Why else should the front and back of a book bear these comments, if the writer's name can't sell the book on its own?
The strange thing is, a new book by Peter Straub should be able to do that. While this is the first book of his I've read, I am aware of his reputation, and can rattle off about half-a-dozen titles from his repertoire. The man is known as a writer who sells books. Chances are, if you ask someone who reads, Have you heard of Straub, they will say yes. The publishers must know this: why else would they print Straub's name in much larger print than the title?
These reflections on packaging aside, Straub mixes together numerous plot elements, and does a good job of connecting them together. Some of these elements – such as kidnapping, and a haunted house – are similar to the ones that King and Straub employed in their earlier collaboration, Black House, and I suspect this is no coincidence. Perhaps the ground that King and Straub covered together interested Straub sufficiently enough to write a novel of his own, one that didn't need to connect to a much larger, convoluted work.
I was particularly impressed with the structure of the narrative. Straub plays with time and viewpoint without hesitation, jumping from here to there with an aplomb that could arouse envy in other writers. He also works in a bit of the epistolatory method, if such a phrase can be applied to the inclusion of emails. The result of this guerrilla approach is a layered story that crescendos like a symphonic piece of music: first this section begins playing, then another works in their part, another joins, yet more blend their particular brand of sound in, until the whole orchestra is in on it.
It is well done, and pleasant to read. Competent fiction provides comforting reading, and Straub writes with a confidence that draws attention. He does falter, however in his depiction of teenage dialog and doings. In conversation, there are far too many “yo's” passed back and forth. References to contemporary rock bands, iPods, and the Internet are made, then forgotten. At one point, the boys consider going to the mall to shop for new CDs, rather than downloading it, pirating it, ripping it, or what have you. These and other misses in contemporary details can be jarring reminders that this is, in fact, fiction, and not an introspective look at the present day.
Still, Straub does have a firm handle upon the atmosphere of the story, and this is one of its greatest strengths. lost boy lost girl is, essentially, a tragedy. That Straub is associated with the horror genre, and his latest novel is presented as such, has more to do with the state of publishing than the prose between the covers. The book isn't scary so much as it is sad. A sense of inescapable fate hangs over the characters, and no matter how they try to sort out their interrupted lives, they stumble only further into misfortune. One character does discover a way to a nirvana-like state, and in the few glimpses he offers of this other world, Straub employs a poetic language that is quite powerful.
Anyone who appreciated King and Straub's accomplishments in Black House will feel the same way about lost boy lost girl. The story is well told; the mood is dark, and compelling. Here and there, Straub experiments with his prose, and achieves some beautiful passages. This is good fiction for those who enjoy reading for the sake of reading.
4/30/06
