Synopsis:
“Monsters aren’t real.”
That’s what sixteen-year-old Lucy Brannigan has always believed, until, broke and desperate, she and her father move to an isolated farmhouse in the small Scottish town of Helsbridge. It’s their last chance, and they have to make it work.
For Lucy, life appears to be over. With no friends, and surrounded by miles of thick woodland, there’s nothing to do. But why did the previous occupants leave their belongings behind? And why is their new home surrounded by dozens of scarecrows? And worst of all… what is the cause of the horrifying screams that wake her in the night?
This summer, Lucy will be forced to learn the dark secret of Helsbridge. And as the bodies pile up, and the blood flows in rivers, she makes a shocking discovery that will change the course of her life forever.
Monsters are real… and no amount of flesh can sate their diabolical hunger.
Review:
His most empathetic, and heartful novel since “The Haar,” David Sodergren’s latest “Summer of the Monsters,” is a commentary on the brutality of man, betrayal and coming of age. Not one for arachnophobes, this creature feature, social horror, has legs, and then some, that will wrap around you and squeeze. A part horror, part fable, “Summer of the Monsters,” straddles the line between fear, empathy, revulsion and revelation. Strangely endearing in the same way that Joshua Hull’s “Mouth,” and indeed “The Haar,” is, this quick, compulsive and cathartic read, complete with gnarly body horror and three-dimensional characters, is a continuation of the high standards I’ve come to expect from Sodergren. Thank you David for sending me a copy of this bad boy, you can nab your own on December 5th!
We follow Lucy Brannigan, who following the sudden and devastating death of her mother, is whisked away from her comfortable city life in Edinburgh, to a small town on the edge of nowhere- Helsbridge. Her father assures her their new home is lovely, and compared to the steep rent on their small city apartment, was an absolute steal… something that suddenly makes sense when upon their arrival, they spot a battalion of scarecrows surrounding their place. Her house is questionable, and she soon learns has a reputation in the local area, her shoes are stolen on her first day of school, and the screams she hears at night aren’t exactly the most comforting. It’s strange friendships, a spark of romance, and of course, terrifying monsters, that go to show “Helsbridge,” is not just another sleepy, rural town.
The upheaval of everything Lucy has known demonstrates the effects of grief, particularly upon family. Her father, Brian, once a prolific writer with the world at his feet, is now in the slump of a life-time, his creative flow as dried up as the ink in his ancient typewriter. His paralysis, sudden inability to write, and thus earn, mirrors Lucy’s own sense of being unmoored. Their small family are adrift in the aftermath of a tragedy that struck without warning, demonstrating how lives can change in a matter of seconds.
Stripped of the distraction of modern comforts- the TV a casualty of the jarring move from Edinburgh, Lucy is drawn to explore the sprawling woodland that surrounds Helsbridge. It’s a place that pulses with an otherworldly energy, more dangerous and unnerving than even her humble abode, complete with ancient, blood-soaked ruins, not to mention gigantic killer-spiders. Yet, in this dark and undeniably unpleasant place, Lucy discovers something truly unexpected- a friend where she least expected to find one, a gentle giant she dubs Sammo. As Lucy’s father, Brian, often reminds her, “Normal is overrated,” a refrain that crops up repeatedly throughout the novel, no doubt a view that allows her to open her mind and heart, and accept that she has come face to face with a monster… and he’s a pal. However, this unconventional friendship doesn’t come without consequences, for whilst Lucy’s may be open to what is strange and unconventional, the world around her recoils, its instincts hardwired to fear what it doesn’t understand. When I first laid eyes upon the cover, which is rather gorgeous, and read the title, I assumed “Summer of the Monsters,” to be some small-town creature-feature slasher, and whilst there are certainly some funny campy elements that prove me right, it’s primarily a pretty devastating and extremely damning examination of human nature, hysteria and mob mentality. It’s a story that doesn’t just confront what it means to be different but challenges the notion of what makes a monster.
Moving in all the right places… and not so in others, “Summer of the Monsters,” pulls on your heartstrings whilst creeping under your skin. Packed with the standard gruesome moments you’d expect to find in an extreme horror novel, but also a surprising amount of soul, if you’re looking for something to make you laugh, cry, squirm, and give you a summer you won’t forget, look no further.
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