|4 of 5 stars|
Honestly, as I was reading I was wondering why so many reviews were making such a big deal out of the gore level. It wasn’t any worse than most horror novels I’ve read and most of the terror came from real life fears. Sure, what happens was heartbreaking and tragic but what wimps these other people must be, thought I, all smug and desensitized. But then, just as I was feeling like nothing would ever bother me again (and wondering if the problem might be me), I was hit with some truly disturbing images and a despair that doesn’t ever let you go. Yep, it’s gross, it’s horribly disturbing and it’s all up in your face. Everything they said before me? It’s true.
I’m not going to ruin the plot mainly because I’m just too lazy. I’ll just say it’s about love, family, grief and all of the ugly emotions that’ll tear you apart. And then throw in a madman or two and some flesh eating piggies and a giant Mason jar that'll give you nightmares.
This was a rough read, I cannot lie, and it took me weeks to finish. Not because the writing was awful (it wasn’t) or because the character were jerks (the innocents were not) but because it was so incredibly bleak. I think I’m the one getting whimpy because I had to take breaks even before the atrocities and body horror smacked me in the face. There’s only so much despair one can take in a sitting . . .
This was the epitome of life: graceless torture.
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