Synopsis:
The first miracle was a joyful one- the sudden cure of a young autistic boy in Greely’s Cove.
The other miracles were different- stranger, darker miracles like murder… and resurrection.
Now every man and woman in Greely’s Cove is afraid. Afraid of things that walk in the night. Afraid of the house on the edge of town… afraid of the loved ones they buried in Greely’s Cove.
Review:
A hidden gem, buried deep in the sun-bleached sands of 90s horror, John Gideon’s “Greely’s Cove,” is a long forgotten and long overlooked Paperback From Hell, that beckons with a wicked grin. A Pandora’s Box of utter nastiness, it boasts a chaotic array of witches, psychics, sorcerers, zombies, pregnant zombies, an evil kid, an evil doctor, urine rituals, various other bodily fluids, lots of slime and goop, and a tonne of coke. It seems Gideon ticked off damn near every trope in the horror playbook. Each chapter drips with gore, and is oozing with ectoplasm- it’s wildly entertaining, as mesmerising as it is messy, and a novel that I hope to see more of online.
At the heart of this blood-soaked tapestry is our hero Carl Trosper, who following his divorce from Lorna, at least partially convinced himself it was nothing to do with Jeremy. However, when his ex-wife locks herself in her car, turns the ignition, and succumbs to the silent, creeping tendrils of carbon monoxide, he’s thrust back into the role of father. Jeremy has changed though, following a radical, hypnotic therapy, offered for free by the eccentric Hadrian Craslow. Once unable to speak, and wholly dependent upon his mother, Jeremy is now incredibly articulate for a boy of 13, and has begun terrorising the neighbourhood. Whilst Craslow dismisses this as a natural response to such a sudden and drastic adjustment, in conjunction with the other strange goings-on in Greely’s Cove, perhaps Jeremy is just one cog in a much larger, much more sinister machine.
Mitch Nistler is also a piece of this grisly horror puzzle- a somewhat disappointing piece with a criminal conviction, a shoddy place, rented to him by his boss, and an even shoddier job, as an embalmer. His drinking problem is what forces him into the office of Hadrian Craslow, but little progress can be made when he finds himself thinking some incredibly unsavoury thoughts whilst embalming the body of Laura Trosper (yeah it goes there). When his ex-prison-roommate shows up on his doorstep, things get worse. Corey “Cannibal” Strecker manages to drag Mitch into his new business venture, an underground coke-ring, pushing him further down a dark path, from which there may be no escape.
Perhaps most interestingly however are the various disappearances that crop up all over town. Serial killers and abductors generally have patterns. An age range, a sex… some kind of twisted routine. But when high school kids and veterans alike begin to vanish, leaving behind only a fetid stench and a strange, viscous slime, it seems everyone is fair game. The chief of police, Stu Compton is perplexed, and as pressure from the victim’s frantic families and the media begins to mount, his grip on the situation slips further. Following reports of ghostly apparitions from some, and the strange behaviour of others, eventually the man has to question whether what he’s dealing with… is even human.
I think what distinguishes “Greely’s Cove,” from the legion of vintage horror novels that flaunt the “An epic masterpiece of modern horror,” title, is its sheer malevolence. It is truly malicious. Our antagonist, who is truly to blame for Jeremy’s drastic change in behaviour, is “The Giver of Dreams.” Less of a sand-man and more of a nightmare-distributing sadist, it has the ability to immerse its victims in horrific alternate realities, forcing them to adopt the identities of nazis and pimps and not just inflict pain, but enjoy doing it. Can you imagine waking up as a serial killer, and being unable to help yourself from committing unspeakable acts of violence… with a smile? I’ve read plenty of horror books, but this concept, more than most, actually scared me. Gideon really doesn’t draw the line there- there are various cringe-worthy scenes throughout, and if you have your limits when it comes to horror, I advise you weigh them carefully against the trigger warnings before setting out to Greely’s Cove. This is horror without a safety net.
“Greely’s Cove,” may not be the very pinnacle of literature. It is not a novel destined for scholarly dissection or any real acclaim- but it has carved itself a rightful place in the annals of vintage horror. It is, at the very least, incredibly entertaining- and that for me, is what reading is about. Packed with some truly hair-raising concepts, and grisly, envelope-pushing passages, this is your classic “Shoulda been a classic.”
Leave a Reply