Horror fiction has never been part of my reading playbook. But with all the buzz surrounding Shaun Hamill’s debut novel, “A Cosmology of Monsters,” I took a leap.
Who says you can’t teach an old dog a new genre?
Cosmology of Monsters
OK, full disclosure. I have been known to be influenced by an impressive blurb on the front cover. In this case, it was Stephen King whose quote was, “If John Irving ever wrote a horror novel, it would be something like this. I loved it.”
Say no more.
The novel begins, as I suppose most horror stories do, with an innocent sounding premise coupled by a steady tension-filled buildup. Margaret is a lonely, inexperienced student at a religious college in the South. It is the 1950s and her mother has made it quite clear that the only value of college is the opportunity to meet a young man and get married. Margaret’s family used to be well off, but their situation changed and Margaret must work part-time to pay for part of her tuition.
At the bookstore where she works, there is a lurker named Harry – not a college student – whose presence irritates her. He routinely takes a book from the shelves and finds a place to sit and read. She shoos him out one day, but he comes back to ask her on a date, and she accepts.
This first date, to a haunted house, scares her to death. But it also seals the deal with Harry. He is the one for her. They get married and begin a life together.
Harry is obsessed with horror. Haunted houses, comic books, paperbacks, etc. He accumulates so much horror chazerai that ultimately they run out of room in their apartment and rent storage space to house it.
Margaret goes along with all this, even when Harry has an idea to create a haunted house on their own property in a Texas suburb. “The Wandering Dark,” he names it, and obsesses over a mega design, with all the epic horror bells and whistles plus a cast of characters, with hand sewn costumes and scripts. It becomes legendary, and also becomes a business. It is so realistic that it is hard to pinpoint where human acting ends … and real monsters step in.
If this sounds silly, stay with me. Forget about the monsters for a moment. “A Cosmology of Monsters” is a dark and deeply compelling story about family connections and the legacy of tragedy. Margaret and Harry’s three children, Sydney, Eunice and Noah, are the third generation to be stuck in this quagmire. They are the central characters in the book. Noah, the youngest, is the narrator (and politely warns us when a scary part is about to happen).
And if monsters give you pause, trust me. These monsters are not your typical beasts. They are mostly benign, unobtrusive, and in my mind’s eye, orange tufted facsimiles of Cookie Monster .
The real horror in “A Cosmology of Monsters” comes in the form of human anguish, loss, and unfulfilled dreams, of spending one’s lifetime searching for the truth. A family unit struggles to find the essence of their existences; who are they, and how do they relate to each other and the wider world while danger is lurking outside their bedroom windows? What is real, and what is imagined, blurs their understanding of the looming threat that shrouds them.
Author Hamill skillfully creates flawed characters whom we come to care about, and worry about. Suspend your disbelief and take a chance on this novel. I could not put it down. Who knows, there could be more horror fiction in my future.
One of my lucky readers will receive a copy of “A Cosmology of Monsters.” Please leave a comment on the Books is Wonderful Facebook page, and a winner will be randomly selected. US addresses only, please.
I received a copy of “A Cosmology of Monsters” from Vintage Books for an honest review, which is the only kind of review I write.
