I had been on such an incredibly long run of dark and mysterious detective and horror novels lately that when I opened the cover to my new book (okay, my kindle cover), “The Death House”, I expected more of the same gruesome and intense genre elements. I was sadly mistaken. Literally.
I began my long journey of somewhere between 50-70 (I should really go back and count) detective novels (mostly) about a year and a half ago, kicking off my research for the final entry in my screenplay trilogy, “The Loss”, inventively named: ‘Chapter 3: A Detective Story’.
I like to keep things simple, okay.
I found the need to immerse myself in the world and mind of a detective, devouring as many books as possible on my daily subway commute to work, and by talking with real life detectives, doctors and pathologists to cover my bases.
I finished ‘Chapter 3’ about six months ago, but found it difficult to jump, or even side-step, away from my new favorite authors (Mo Hayder, Kate Atkinson, Tana French) and favorite detective characters (Jack Caffery, Flea Marley, Jackson Brodie, Frank Mackey). But, alas, the time had come to embark on new adventures, and meet new characters to inspire me.
So, I sought out some Amazon recommended books, based on my previous reads. For no real rhyme or reason, I had become quite enamored with female European authors. It started with the brilliant Mo Hayder, and her Jack Caffery series, and the domino pieces fell from there. So, when I was introduced to British thriller, mystery, fantasy and YA author Sarah Pinborough on the Amazon recommended page, I thought, ‘ah yes, here is a good side-step’.
I know, I know, it sounds like I’m diving right into the same exact thing I’ve been reading for 18 months. But, here’s the thing – I have no desire to take a giant leap into Westerns, Romance or Historical novels. Not my thing. So, I reach close, not far.
So, the first Sarah Pinborough novel I chose to read was the twisting, dark and ultra-fucked up thriller “Behind Her Eyes”. This was right in my wheelhouse. I was on the edge of my seat, shocked and honestly quite disgusted (but, not in a gory way). It was awesome!
I had found my next author love.
On to the next book!
This brings us full circle to the beginning of my story, “The Death House”. The title says it all, doesn’t it?
Made up movie trailer in my head: “This October…you want to know, you need to know, what’s inside the house. You may get in…but, you’ll never get out of…THE DEATH HOUSE!”
Yeah………not so much.
It’s not that the title doesn’t relate to what the book is about; it technically does, however just not REMOTELY in the way I had foolishly assumed.
What I came to realize; some sixty-seventy pages in (I’m assuming this is the Kindle equation for 23%), is that what I was reading…was incredibly sad.
The last “sad” novel I had read was maybe “A Separate Peace” back in high school. That was sad, wasn’t it? That’s my recollection from long, long ago at any rate.
Without giving away anything, but the bare groundwork of this story, it takes place in either, the future, or simply a ‘different’ time. Things are just a tad off, feel a bit different, but nothing showy. We’ll call it Dystopian Light. The location is a house (see how the title half makes sense now) on a remote island where ‘Defectives’ are sent to purportedly live out the remainder of their now very shortened lives. Live out = Death. (and there’s the other half of the title)
What are ‘Defectives’?
Remember when you were in grade school, and you were tested for lice and scoliosis? If not, then you grew up in a different time than me, so just imagine that was normal, and everyone did it. In this world, children; roughly ages 10-16, have their blood drawn instead, and if they are found to be ‘defective’, they are swiftly obtained (abducted?), tossed into a white van (I know!), and shuttled off to the ‘house’ to join the others.
The ‘house’ is essentially a school, full with classes, lunches, tea time and play time. We follow Toby; the elder 15-year old leader of Dorm 4, as he quickly adapts to his new ‘life’, and his new friends, enemies, cliques and the revolving door of new kids replacing the ‘old’.
“It makes your eyes bleed”. This is the haunting whisper passed between the Defectives about their inevitable demise.
A rumor? A ghost-story? A fact?
Pinborough makes the brilliant decision to keep the clinical and technical details vague, allowing them to remain mysteries, and instead, focuses on the true heart of the story, the relationships. What’s important here isn’t the ‘strain’ of the disease, the calendar year, or any of the feared gory details. It’s the feelings, the fear, the anger, the angst and the love between Toby, and all those surrounding him.
“The Death House” is incredibly truthful and honest about the human condition, at is most base level, and this is what’s at the core of this heartfelt novel, as it deals head-on with perhaps the greatest fear of all: death. The fear of no longer existing. The fear of not being able to love or be loved ever again. And for all of these reasons, I love it, .
I know, sounds like a real joy ride doesn’t it. I guess what it does for me is, it unites me with my love of film; the first art that drove me to write, to direct and to produce other works of art.
In conjunction, I must admit, I love sad movies. Movies that make my heart drop down into my gut, and weep like a young lover in a Jane Austin book. The first film I decided to show my now wife, Charlotte, was “Warrior”, one of the most gut-wrenching and deeply moving films of the last decade. The very moment the credits began to roll, she escaped to the bathroom, shut the door and cried for a good 20-30 minutes, before coming back out with the blunt question/dagger, “why would you do that to me?”
(This has been a rare, but still recurring question, thrown at me like a harpoon over the years.)
My answer, and the reason why I showed her that film, was because it moved me more than any other film in my recent memory, and I wanted her to feel what I felt. Sounds sadistic maybe, I know, but hear me out. It’s not because it was painful, but because it made me feel alive, made me appreciate life and those I love. It also inspired me as an artist. See how nice I am.
“The Death House” is my literary “Warrior”. It is heart-breaking, terrifying and so deeply, deeply moving. It is the saddest book I have ever read, and yet, maybe the most life affirming. It is quite simply, brilliant.
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