gore – Dr JoAnn LoSavio

The Cannibal Gardener: A Novel by Joe Pawlowski

I am kicking myself for letting The Cannibal Gardener sit on my (ridiculously, 4-digit long) TBR List (To Be Read) for as long as I did. This novel delivered on all the horror and squeamish discomfort it promised. For readers who enjoy paranormal and historical elements, delight in having their own sense of security in the Righteous Ways of the World shaken, and well-delivered gore, this exploration into cannibalism and flesh-lust is a must-read.

That said, readers should be aware that gore here is not for the faint of heart. The subject matter, cannibalism, is already one which pings our most primal fears. The idea of consuming human flesh twigs an evolutionary nerve in our psyche the wrong way; we are social beings, needing the survival of others to secure our own. Even in a case of hyper-evolution of the competitive drive as individuals seek to enhance evolutionary fitness, human culture has developed an universal anathema to indulge in killing and eating a member of our own species. An odd quirk of humanity, as one character in the novel, Denise, notes.

This nauseating subject is also what makes this novel such a good horror read. And it is indeed, all about cannibalism. The novel is an entanglement of its characters’ diverse stories, each one eventually weaving together with another until all come together at the end. Their disparate lives are connected by this ugly, bloody practice in some way. Edmund, Denise, Milo, and George are the primary protagonists of the novel. Each of them engages in the profane act in some sense and this draws them into an ancient goddess’ cruel net.

Aside from the lurid story itself, Pawlowski’s fast-paced prose, adeptness at storytelling, and nuanced character development is an major appeal. The novel flows at a pace which fuels the urgency of events and, yet also linger on the characters’ voices and inner dialogue. The resultant surge and lull allows the reader to feel the thrill of a mystery and immerse themselves in the interior world of the characters. This is in part achieved by allotting each chapter to a different narrator.

The prose is mature, as is Pawlowski’s authorial voice. It is consistent, succinct, expressive. It is also clear Pawlowski’s journalistic experience enhances his craft. Not only have his observations of human behavior led him to create fleshy characters (forgive the pun!), his decisions of what to reveal and when reflect a deep understanding of his audience. I also much appreciated his vocabulary; the novel’s language borders on the intellectual. I mean this as a compliment. Its precision delivers a sharp image of events to the reader, leaving well-placed gaps that each one may organically fill in with their own imagination.

I look forward to Pawlowski’s other horror fiction…

Anybody Home? A Novel
by Michael J. Seidlinger

This novel is creepy AF. I really hope none of the home invaders in this story exist, but that’s the thing that makes this so terrifying: they probably do. Seidlinger’s Anybody Home? has no named narrator, no named characters at all, no named locale, and no loci in time; the events in this slim, punchy novel could happen anywhere and to anyone. That’s what makes it a successful horror story. Seidlinger lets the reader’s imagination do the work — some of the work — for him.

Some. The heavy lifting is done by Seidlinger. The prose is sparse, but accurate like a puncture to the jugular. A hanging question, a sentence left unfinished — the words in this novel function like a silent slice of a knife through air; they draw a spurt or an arc of blood, as desired. Seidlinger delivers enough to elicit pain, but not enough to kill; reader, you’ll live to read on. You’ll be compelled to read on to deliver yourself from the suspense.

Anybody Home? is about a home invasion, a carefully planned crime and its implementation. The story is told from the interior perspective of the mastermind of this crime.

Despite the facelessness of the narrator, the protagonist in this tale is not a mystery to the reader. This is, I think, part of Seidlinger’s brilliance. The reader is treated to the full landscape of insanity in the narrator’s head; what you’re not sure of is who they are talking to and what the relationship is between the narrator and the others of their kind. This unreliable narrator adds to the sensation of dis-ease; the further the reader gets into the book and into the narrator’s head, the more infectious the madness becomes. Things start to make sense. You can’t help but respect the madness a bit. In fact, it does not feel quite so mad. There’s a logic — even a sense of justice or nobility — to the plan the narrator has in mind. Almost.

Reader, you might begin to wonder if the madman is the hero here. But that feels squeamish; you can’t quite reconcile the deontological unfairness of this cruel act with some kind of enlightenment. You can’t quite call the ending “happy”, but you might be tempted to ponder on it. You might creep yourself out a bit when you realize your own moral compass may not point true north… Maybe.

I am adding this to my Halloween Horror reads for 2022. It warrants a place of pride on my list. For those of you following my reviews, I’m starting my Halloween Horror reading early this year (because why not?).