Synopsis:
Isla Hansen, a mother reeling from a devastating loss, is beside herself when a mysteriously orphaned child appears on the outskirts of the Hansens’ secluded Colorado property. Although strange and unexplainable, the child’s presence breathes new life into Isla. But as the child settles in, Isla’s husband, Luke, and their five children notice peculiarities that hint at something far beyond the ordinary—anomalies that challenge the very fabric of reality itself. The tension within the Hansen household grows, and with it, the sense that there is something very wrong with the new kid in the house.
Review:
High-concept, excellently executed, and viscerally, palpably, earnestly terrifying, Ania Ahlborn’s “The Unseen,” is a novel that is taut with suspense and brimming with dread. When it comes to Ania’s writing, the novel that affected me most has to be “Brother,” which has a notoriously heart-shattering conclusion, and left a bitter taste in my mouth that I’ve not managed to swill out 3 years on. It was “Seed,” however, that scared me the most at the time; I still remember genuinely sprinting to the bathroom and back the night I finished it. It’s a great example of the different impacts that horror can have. I digress. “The Unseen,” which is the book that I should actually be talking about, is an unholy marriage of both of these reading experiences. With scenes of abject horror that made me want to frisbee my kindle out of the window, Ahlborn’s psychologically sour trademark unhappy ending, and a sprawling, cosmic plot that made my brain ache and itch and whine and feel like it had a rash, “The Unseen,” is a miserable reading experience that I enjoyed every second of. It’s out August 19th from Gallery Books (tomorrow) as is my interview with Ania (holy moly).
We follow the Hansens. Isla and Liam are left with a hole in their family when they lose Adam. Isla in particular is truly broken, and receives treatment whilst Liam looks after their children: August, Eden, Olive, Willow and Sophie. The Hansens are healing though, getting back to normal, despite the increased child disappearances in Golden, Colorado, and despite Isla’s continued numbness. UNTIL. Isla is gardening when a malnourished, wild child approaches, and having just lost a son of her own… how could this be anything but a blessing? Well, perhaps it could be the family’s dog’s erratic behaviour around him, the misfortune and hurt that seems to follow him everywhere, the fact that he does not speak or eat or smile, only stare- that suggests otherwise.
The novel is told through a staggering seven perspectives over just a few days, each of the Hansens, ranging from wide-eyed Sophie, who is only 5, to her fraying parents. These shifting POVs allow us to truly glean each of the characters, their feelings toward their new addition, as well as subject ourselves to the same cruelties and terrors from multiple angles, refracted and distorted through different lenses of distrust, dread, and naivety. Ahlborn’s prose itself is not only exquisite, but inexplicably able to evoke such visceral reactions from me. With biblical, pulse-racheting, skin-tightening, landmark scenes of elevated terror: insect horror galore, a monster in the closet and a late-night supernatural chase scene, there are various passages in this book that I do believe I’ll carry with me long after the specifics of plot and character blur.
“The Unseen,” is a novel that explores what it is to grow up. This is broadly commented on- physically aging, becoming infertile- but amongst that, and the cosmic, the supernatural, there is a focus upon the horror of becoming your own parent, and it’s one felt by almost all of the characters. August, who looks just like Luke is determined to cover himself in tattoos in order to distance himself. Luke is determined not to be the violent and intimidating father figure his own Dad was, but it’s due to his over-correction, that his daughter Olive is determined to not be like hers, and speak up, rather than being so timid and restrained. Isla’s disdain toward her mother, Skye, is certainly the most potent, yet despite all that, she just like her mother struggles with her mental health, ends up turning to superstition, and in many ways ostracises her own children. With the new addition, who Isla calls Rowan, acting as a catalyst, the family dynamics in the Hansen household become strained, splintering and warping, in a way that feels similar to works such as Max Booth III’s “We Need To Do Something,” and Paul Tremblay’s “A Head Full of Ghosts.” It’s a claustrophobic knot of dysfunction that is as frustrating and maddening as it is terrifying and compelling.
A novel that I had to physically tear myself away from, “The Unseen,” by Ania Ahlborn is a continuation of the awful, brilliant, repulsive, addictive work that self-flagellating readers everywhere have come to expect from her. Its writing sharp, its twists sharper, its turns cruel, by the end, readers can expect to find themselves staring at the wall in mute despair, wondering if happiness is anything more than a rumor. It’s out tomorrow, do enjoy!!
Leave a Reply