Synopsis
A woman becomes the unknowing subject of an artist’s dangerous work in this intense Hitchcockian thriller from the New York Times bestselling author of Incidents Around the House.
After a magical night out on the town with her boyfriend Jack, Emily wakes alone in a huge bed in a beautiful, well-lit room. But the pink ceiling, the mauve walls, and the deep, dark corners are nothing like the hotel she and Jack rented.
More worrisome yet: Emily has no memory of this place from the night before.
Where is she?
A woman’s voice directs her to remain in bed.
Just so . . .
And beyond the end of the bed, a picture frame upon an easel—a frame with no canvas, no painting, no art.
Only . . . there is the silhouette of a person Emily does not recognize. A person emanating demand, danger, evil. And the way the woman talks . . . and the things she says . . . She’s acting as if Emily herself is the painting. The still life. The art.
Emily is as scared as she is confused. But it’s immediately clear Jack’s life is on the line with her own. And if she attempts to escape the bed and the wood frame of this nightmare masterwork, neither will survive the experience.
Emily is fierce, independent, brilliant, but to get out of this, she’ll have to think like an artist herself.
The clock is ticking.
For Emily.
For Jack.
For being forever trapped.
Josh Malerman’s unforgettable and terrifying Incidents Around the House became an instant classic of horror—and now Malerman has done it again. Pictures of You is a tale of thrilling terror that will chill you until the last page—and have you thinking of the heroine’s search for love and the meaning of art long after.
Review
Was super excited to get invited to review this one through NetGalley, so thanks, Del Rey! Malerman has been a longtime auto-buy author for me, so I was looking forward to it.
A couple, Emily and Jack, are on a little getaway. They have an incredible night: food, drinks, laughter, but was it really so great that they’d blacked out? Regardless, that’s how Emily finds herself waking up—with no recollection of how the night ended, and no Jack. She’s in a large bed, the room’s well lit, and she’s wearing a dress that’s most definitely not hers. Beyond the bed there is what appears to be a picture frame, and further still, a person just too far to make out. This person goes in and out of calm, controlled kindness and outrageous demands, all in the name of capturing their art. What Emily first thinks is a joke turns out to be anything but.
I think this book is enhanced by prior knowledge of the author. Knowing his style and even some of his life. That his wife is an artist, more than likely surrounding him with the subject matter of this book on a daily basis. That he has now seen more than one work go from the page to the screen, literally giving him that shift in perspective to other mediums. And knowing that Malerman is not someone who just writes to normal trends, never giving the next book over to what you expect– that weird is the thing.
With that said, this book will certainly not be for everyone. It really digs deep into something niche in the horror/thriller genre, and at times it can feel especially out there. It’s introspective and artistic—both in its literal description and style—and it really pushes a boundary on unsettling slowly over time as opposed to straight tension, action, or haunting atmosphere. Seeing some reviews and then reading for myself, it brought to mind something Malerman dissected in Watching Evil Dead, where he talks about how every writer has the ability (more like inevitability) to create a lemon, a wash, a piece of work that falls short on their voice and style. And to me, while this novel was never in the running to be that for him, I could see how divisive it could be, could see people calling it that, and somehow at the same time, like, I kind of enjoyed that idea? That someone may think something is their worst of the worst, meanwhile I personally still like it and think there’s much to enjoy. And to that end, I ask the author: Is something ever truly a lemon?
For me, this shines with character. The author has this continuous yet uncanny ability to craft people who are too diverse, too out there, for them to feel unreal. It’s almost easier to believe they exist somewhere for real than it is for me to believe he somehow keeps creating them. Emily and Jack are vibrant, both energetic and emotive on the page. The “villain” is equally intriguing, as they are creepy and obsessive. Perhaps it’s because I’ve seen the movies made from his work, but I feel like you can really see everything play out as if made for the screen. Like living art. He just has such a powerful way of injecting these little pieces into people- these mannerisms and seemingly throwaway ticks- that combine to make them feel like a breathing whole. It’s a unique skill.
For fans of Malerman. Fans of the art world and horror, thriller, and mystery. For fans who want to read something unique and strange. It reminded me of Kealan Patrick Burke’s Grim Portraits and pieces of Velvet Buzzsaw, with almost an Alfred Hitchcock twist.
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