Synopsis:
Latrine Technician vs. Dark Carnival?
Yep.
After his mother is diagnosed with dementia, Sunday McWhorter needs a job with flexible hours and a company vehicle. It just so happens that the local porta-potty company is hiring.
The job stinks, but it’s a solid paycheck that allows Sunday to take care of his mom. Everything goes smoothly until Autumn and the beginning of county fair season, when people start going missing and body parts start being found…inside the very tanks of the porta-potties Sunday is charged with cleaning.
Is there a serial killer? A human trafficking ring? An epidemic of haunted toilets?
Sunday finds out the hard way when the simple job of vacuuming sewage becomes a tussle between worlds.
Review:
Hello again dear reader or listener, you know how some books are true to their title? Well, Chris Panatier’s upcoming work is also technically true to its title but in all the best, if maybe too literal, ways.
With a thank you to the author for the review copy then, let’s get to why this hysterical sounding premise, hiding lots of heart, is worth your time!
On the book’s Goodreads page, the author describes this story as for fans of the “horror movies of the 1980s and 1990s that were green lit by studio executives who were snorting their lunches”, and suffice it to say that is a most perfect description. However, I’ll go one step further and say that, to me, this book felt like the raw poignancy and cursed carnival vibes of del Toro’s Nightmare Alley meets a Courage the Cowardly Dog episode, in all its macabre, gory, occasionally psychedelic, and darkly humorous glory. Children don’t get traumatized by their cartoons enough these days, frankly.
Recognizing that it being my favorite one growing up may explain a few things of who I am as a person was a big moment for me ngl, but we digress.
Dark carnivals call to me almost as much as haunted ships, in other words I’m a sucker for them, and, having read Panatier’s previous work, The Redemption of Morgan Bright, I knew I’d be in good hands when it came to atmospheric and evocative writing, which is a must for these types of settings.
Not shying from considerable gore and ickiness, sections of this book will have you shuddering at the imagined feel of something slimy making its unwanted and slow way down your naked back. While others will enthral you so much you’ll be swearing you can hear the faraway sounds of a carnival or fairground. One where the closer you get though, the more you realize how wrong the sounds coming from it actually are. Those screams in the distance are not delighted fear and adrenaline from a fast ride but something far more pained and haunting. People who hate carnivals will feel so validated in their fear of the uncanny that pervades them, and for those who, like me, actually thrive in such situations, welcome to the weirdness, it’s is delightfully unsettling here!
The protagonist Sunday is as relatable as they come even if you’re not in the same places as he is in life. He is pragmatic and armed with what he describes as “regular default amount of superstition” which makes him both endearing and a protagonist that doesn’t live in denial and frustrates the reader. Granted this book doesn’t have the time for prolonged disbelief given its length, but it was something I found amusing and charming on its own as a whole. In fact, nobody in this book is disbelieving of the weird shit that is happening for too long, if at all, and that is a source of hilarity that keeps you engaged with the fast pace of the story. It’s the kind of “aight, fuck it, let’s go” energy that is very much me and I can always get behind. Special mention also goes to deuteragonist flavored cigar smoking, Fireball drinking, Ms. Poppy, a no-nonsense chaotic queen we all deserve in our lives.
Moreover, after a classic opening chapter that hints at the proverbial monster in the closet, Panatier also presents the reader with a heartfelt and heartrending story about family, and the bittersweetness that mars every moment you spend caring for a loved one with a degenerative disease. As someone with a relative that’s in nearly the same stage of dementia as the protagonist’s mother, it would be an understatement to say that this story hit close to home.
I appreciated that it shows sides to the illness that media often forego unless they’re going for that Drama category Oscar nomination, for one. But also the ugly duality that exists within carers. We love the person we’re caring for while mourning the person they were. We hate ourselves for wishing for different circumstances while trying to not be harsh on ourselves or the person we’re caring for when they have really bad episodes. We make the best of it while pondering if maybe it is a softer if prolonged way to say goodbye, one that doesn’t hurt as much when the time finally comes. And that is what this story is about at its core, I thought, letting go. What can happen when you don’t and would rather risk corrupting something good, or prolonging something painful rather than accepting its end.
It’s an incredibly hard reality, and yet the author gave it both the respect and truthfulness it deserves, while also lightening the load of it in a way that didn’t trivialize and, if anything, it might feel like an understanding soft landing for those in the carer role. That alone deserves all the praise, and if the gore and horror antics aren’t an issue, this is a book I’d recommend to anyone facing similar circumstances as it is both escapist and cathartic.
Overall the parallels Panatier draws across the story and its characters are masterful, the peppered in critique of certain current topics downright delicious (there is one scene I won’t spoil where the aforementioned Queen Ms. Poppy delivers a line that had me take a break from reading to say “Panatier, The Man that you are” out loud), and the final wrap up of the story bittersweet and yet perfect. Truly, my only main critique with the author’s previous work was that he had overdone it in some aspects of the narrative, which tired me out and got me out of the story. Nevertheless, I still loved his style and the way he went about tackling important topics so I promised myself I’d keep reading him. I’m very pleased to say he absolutely course corrected with this upcoming book as nothing is too much, it is snappy, to the point, and effective.
It’s an enthralling few hours that’ll have you cringing as much as chuckling and awing. Food for thought but in a light and delicious appetizer way. You might be questioning my food parallels considering how gross the content of this book can get at this point, but to that I can only say: my friends tell me I’m abnormal 🙂
Shitshow comes out September 2nd through Sobelo Books (pre-order here) and believe me when I say that you need this stinky portal of dark humor in your life.
Until next time,
Eleni A.E.
Leave a Reply