In this disquieting novel, two siblings are forced to take part in an uncanny ceremony.
Where does the line between art and ritual lie? Over the course of the last decade, the Hudson River Valley has emerged as a setting for a host of inventive works of horror from writers like John Langan, Sam J. Miller, and Laird Barron. Marino’s latest novel, set in the fictional town of Wofford Falls, is a solid addition to their number. Peter “Lark” Larkin and his sister, Betsy, both in their 30s, grew up there; Lark spent some years in New York City before returning to his hometown with a degree of art-world success under his belt. It’s Betsy who is the more gifted of the siblings, though her skills veer into the paranormal, as this glimpse of one of her creations demonstrates: “The object’s doing something prismatic with the air, with the space that surrounds it. He tilts the box, half expecting a staggered trail of after-image, a holographic stutter.” Then Betsy is abducted and the Larkins are forced to take part in a bizarre occult ceremony by another brother and sister—Helena and Griffin Belmont, who are both impossibly long-lived and hope to return their father to full life and health. As Lark works on building strange sculptures at the Belmonts' compound, the effects on the larger world—including distortions of space and reality—become clearer, and the full scope of the Belmonts' plan becomes more and more apparent. There’s a lived-in sensibility to much of this novel that makes the horrific elements stand out even more, and Marino has a good eye for genuinely disturbing imagery. At times things can feel a little too crowded—the Belmonts’ centuries of plotting could support a novel all its own—but this novel hums with a terrifying momentum.
A memorably visceral take on art, family, and power.