Micro Mention "The Amulet"

Michael McDowell is one of those authors that I just stumbled upon one day, and I can’t thank Valancourt Books enough for breathing a second life into his books. For me, he’s the master of Southern Gothic Horror, and “The Amulet” doesn’t disappoint.

Admittedly, "The Amulet" has a stronger setup and start than finish, but it's still a fantastic horror story. McDowell captures the time and place of when and where the story is set perfectly. He also has a tremendous gift for character voice as well.

If you'd like to read my full review of this novel, you can find it here.

 

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"The Amulet," by Michael McDowell--Fiction Review

One month down, Obscurists, and for today’s review, I thought we’d revisit Michael McDowell and take a look at his debut novel, “The Amulet,” a cross somewhere between occult horror and southern gothic, leaning more toward the occult.

***The Non-Spoiler part of this review*** 

What I love about this book:

I love a good commercial horror story, which this is, and was all McDowell had said he aspired to be as a writer when he was alive. I’ve said this before, but I’m a big believer in fiction for fiction’s sake. And while I think the art side of writing is important too, it feels like sometimes we can get into spirals of who can out sophisticate each other. I’d feel remiss not to point out that sophisticate or sophisticated are words related to the word sophist, which when you boil it down basically means clever-sounding idiot. The more you know, as brought to you by this clever-sounding idiot.

In the first two-thirds of the book, the core story is tightly told about a cursed object that Sarah Howell is trying to retrieve to prevent it from causing any more death and destruction. I admire the simplicity, directness, and how easily understood the plot is from the beginning through the middle. The amulet is cursed. It drives anyone who wears it to murder, and then an untimely accident kills the bearer. Then after someone else inevitably picks it up, it moves on.

The scenes with Sarah’s husband—a victim of a horrible accident that has left him in a vegetative state—and his mother—possibly a witch—are some of my favorite scenes in this book. This isn’t so much a spoiler but the inciting action of the story because it’s Sarah’s mother-in-law who introduces the amulet in this narrative in the first place. So it was interesting for me when Sarah would confront her to see how much she knew about this cursed piece of jewelry.

What I don’t love about this book:

The plot is fast-paced, but toward the end, it felt like McDowell was just looking to write more and more outlandish death scenes with little contribution to the plot. I know I’m boring, but I like it when a story adheres to the rules and modes of action it establishes early on. If the plot in “The Amulet” is a car McDowell is driving, then towards the end, it feels like he turns to us in the audience to say, “rules are for losers,” only to then drive us off a cliff. So—I didn’t like the end, which is a bummer for me because endings are my favorite parts of stories.

Additionally, if you think the end will answer any questions or tie up some loose plot threads, I hate to break it to you, but no. This is fine if the story’s point is for you to question the reality constructed in the story, or there will be a sequel building off those loose ends, but again, no such luck here.

This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 

as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

***The Spoiler part of this review*** 

***Ye be warned to turn back now*** 

The quick and dirty synopsis:

In the prologue, we meet Dean Howell, recently drafted into the army to fight in Vietnam, but before he’s deployed, his job is to test rifles at Fort Rucca. It’s especially galling to him because he feels he was supposed to get a job at the factory that manufactures the rifles. After all, they come from his hometown of Pine Cone. A job at the factory would have exempted him from the draft. He never has to worry about getting shot in Vietnam because one of the rifles he was testing explodes in his face, horribly injuring him and leaving him in a vegetative state.

"The Elementals," by Michael McDowell--Fiction Review

Happy Friday, my dear obscurists—tomorrow is my birthday, and thank you for giving me the gift of visiting my website, cajoled, or otherwise. Since it’s my birthday, I think we’ll dive right under the covers, made from the vellum of tanned screaming faces, of something warm and comforting to me—horror—specifically gothic horror.

Today’s book is “The Elementals” by Michael McDowell, one of my favorite authors who I don’t feel is remembered or recognized as much as he should be—so we’re all going to do that now.

***The Non-Spoiler part of this review***

What I love about this book:

McDowell was an absolute genius when it comes to gothic horror, and this book, which is essentially a haunted house story—the bread and butter of this subgenre—practically eerily glows with that talent. The elementals aren’t traditional ghosts in a sense everyone would think of, and it’s implied heavily that they are aware of this and use it to their advantage. It gives them an almost alien feel—but that theory is never explored in this story.

The setting is unique, taking place on a coastal island and in three houses—not just one. At the beginning of the story, Beldame—the island—seems like a really sweet vacation spot. In fact, it had been the McCrays and the Savages vacation home for decades. So it isn’t like most haunted house stories where the characters aren’t familiar with the place they are staying. The “island” is only actually an island during high tide; during low tide, it can be driven to easily enough. A feature that can sound neat until—you know—the running and the screaming starts.

McDowell, in another novel series, actually the masterpiece of his life, “Blackwater,” made me a fan of family dramas, and this novel is similar. The tension of the story isn’t just that the family vacation spot is haunted, it’s that the two wings of the family, the Savages and the McCrays, fresh from a funeral, are dysfunctional as all hell. Putting them on a little haunted island and watching them cope is wildly entertaining. 

What I don’t love about this book:

On the minor side of things that make me a little uncomfortable with—and immediately dates—this novel; it does engage in the magical negro trope. While she is a valued and major character throughout the novel, she is also the family servant—paid servant—but still uncomfortable. Since the novel is southern gothic horror, to drill down further into the subgenres, and was published in 1981, it’s about as progressive as a story set in Alabama at that time could be with that setting.

This next point is hard to make without spoiling too much, but here goes without much context. There is a part in the later story where characters have left the site of the haunting, and they know something supernatural is happening, and it’s scary. Yet, they calmly discuss how they’re going to go back, anyway. It’s loosely explained that they suspect something supernatural is happening to them that lessens the horror to convince them to go back. None of that works for me. It’s clunky, and it feels a bit like cheating because the plot demands they return. This is really the only major black spot on the banana for me regarding the plot of this book.

In any horror story, there are always a couple of questions that need to be addressed to maintain the status quo with the audience and get them to maintain their suspension of disbelief. Chief among these questions is, why don’t they just leave? So when your characters have left, and then go back, there needs to be a hell of a compelling reason for why they made that choice—and it kind of gets hand waved in this novel.

This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 

as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

***The Spoiler part of this review***

***Ye be warned to turn back now***