Synopsis:
When Casey Wilson’s parents tell him that his friend is coming for a sleepover, he has no idea who that might be. Ever since the Zoom Incident, everyone treats him like a pariah, and his tics are worse than ever.
When Morel appears, he’s not like any friend Casey has ever met. His skin is like clay, and he doesn’t speak. But Casey’s parents are charmed by the strange kid, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to besides his sister, Ally, who is away at college. As his normally loving parents grow distant from Casey, they gush and fawn over Morel. Casey knows something is wrong—but with no end in sight to the sleepover, he’s exhausted. And in the dark, out of the corner of his eye, Morel doesn’t look like a kid at all. . . .
Review:
I love middle grade horror. John Bellairs was my absolute gateway into horror books, and I still remember the frisson of delight from reading and rereading the hand of glory scene from A House With a Clock in its Walls. There’s something visceral and true about horror written from the child’s perspective, when–let’s be honest–everything is frightening, and when it’s done well, it can supply some of the spookiest moments from any horror literature.
Another thing I love is Paul Tremblay. Every one of his books is an instant-buy, and I often have the feeling that each of his books was written just for me, it’s secret, individual audience.
So, when I heard Tremblay was putting out a middle grade horror book, I was naturally excited. I also had questions. A large part of what makes Tremblay’s work so effective, and so unique, is its comfort with and manipulation of ambiguity. The reader is always deeply complicit in constructing the narrative, which may or may not be supernatural, may or may not be real. It’s one element that turns of some adult readers. So what might a Tremblay middle grade novel look like? I tend to think that young people are probably more comfortable with ambiguity than the adults in their lives, but how would he pull this off?
In the end, such concerns were beside the point. Another represents Tremblay’s most straightforward horror story to date. It’s a spooky trip into the uncanny valley, with a take on the body-snatcher trope that plays on preteen insecurities as well as marching us straight into the uncanny valley.
Casey is a middle school pariah, isolated after developing several awkward ticks during Covid lockdown. He’s a reluctant player on the baseball team his dad coaches. He misses his college age sister. He’s really an aged down version of The Pallbearers Club‘s Art Barbara: awkward and too much in his head. Casey has one outlet for his expression: drawing. He’s a killer artist who has wrapped up a great deal of his identity in that role. That identity is about to be challenged.
When a stranger appears to deliver a “friend” to stay with Casey for a few days, things get real weird real quick. Morel is a clay-faced automaton that doesn’t speak, eat, or sleep. He just shadows Casey around the house, watching him draw and play video games.
But as the nights pass, Mom and Dad seem to change (a key fear manifest pod person narratives at least as far back as Invaders From Mars). They seem to drift around in a haze, not recognizing the changes happening right beneath their noses.
It doesn’t take long for Morel to begin to grow rather familiar features, and now Casey is fighting to retain that same identity he so lamented in the story’s opening. It’s good stuff, with a great climax, even if I did sometimes question the plot’s pacing during the build up.
It’s worth mentioning that Another operates perfectly well on its own, but also works as a screed against AI “art” that “borrows” from real artists to create an uncanny, unsatisfying muck. Tremblay tells us that AI will fail, because what it can’t do is what Casey can: create in beautiful, flawed, and personal ways. I don’t know that any middle schooler will pick up on this allegory, but it’s there all the same.
Another is yet another great Paul Tremblay book certain to give readers young and old the solid creeps, and it just might be the gateway to a lifetime of spooky reading.
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