It’s still in the nineties here and the tomatoes, after a late spring, have only just started to take off, but the calendar says it’s September and that’s a good enough reason to dip into spooky books for me. First up this year is The Unheld, a Weird Western from debut author Luke Larkin.
Things are lonely in the little cabin in the woods that Charlie shares with her father. They’re quiet, too, if her father doesn’t want to talk. Charlie knows how to read, but she wishes she could go to school like the kids in town, or get the occasional hug or kind word from her gruff father. Instead, she helps him hunt. But game has been scarce in the woods lately, and the things they have found have been strange, like a fox running without a head or an owl with four wings. It’s been hard to sell game like that in town, but the arrival of Mr. Elias, the proprietor of a curiosity shop with deep pockets, changes that. So does the appearance of a new creature, a beast made entirely out of human hands and arms. The townspeople might not have wanted to buy any of Pa’s odd game for meat, but they’ll shell out a nickel for a glimpse of the beast. Mr. Elias is interested in it, too. So is Patton, a member of the tribal police seeking the thing that killed his brother. But before either can get their hands on the beast, it disappears into the woods, taking Pa with them.
Charlie doesn’t know if she wants to rescue her father, exactly, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. For one thing, Mr. Elias’ former mentor in an occult society, Rebeca, has come to take matters of the strange creatures into her own hands, and the beast seems to have a fascination with Charlie the adults can all see is the key to finding it for their diverse goals. Charlie’s fascinated with it, too, and has a thing or two she wants to say to her father whether or not he can or should be rescued. Of course, getting to say those things means not only finding the beast but surviving its grasp, too.
In book circles, there’s a lot of talk about how writers need to grab a reader by the first page. That’s always seemed like an unreasonable demand on an author, to set up tone and character and setting and plot within a few hundred words. Larkin, however, caught my attention by the end of the first paragraph. Although The Unheld was never a novel I ended up racing through just to get to the end, it was one that held my attention with its eeriness supported by solid writing, and I don’t think I’ll forget this one for a long time.
The concept of the Great American West, particularly in the era of Westward expansion, is one ripe for adding a dash of supernatural horror. The Unheld is undated but set squarely in the age of rail travel and government breaking their own tribal treaties. In an atmosphere of one group of people pressing into the unknown and another group of people being forced from everything they’ve known, the shadows of the mountains and the expanse of the prairies can hold any number of bone-chilling things. The genre works better sometimes than others, usually when the supernatural is mirroring a more pervasive and pedestrian fear. In The Unheld, the loneliness that comes from displacement and the dark side of this open land of adventure echoes in both the characters and the evil they’re chasing after. None of the three feels they have a place in this new world, either because of their own choices or the choices of those they love. Good news, the beast made of hands has a solution! It’s being consumed by a beast made of hands.
The ball of hands and arms itself is a credibly creepy foe, especially since it bears some sort of weird psychological aura, too. What’s really creepy is its effect on the environment. During the journey to find the thing, Charlie and the gang are attacked by a large wolf whose fur ripples with hands and fingers constantly moving, as well as an eyeless moose with the same affliction. As they near the creature, even the grass and trees are made of hands. Meanwhile, Charlie, Patton, and Mr. Elias all have a single hand from a loved one previously taken by the beast, a hand returned to their front stoop that is still animate, Thing-style. Larkin’s descriptions manage to be visceral without straying into gory, though I’d still recommend not reading this late into the night (unless you want creatures made of hands and arms and fingers in your dreams, in which case you do you).
While I personally don’t agree with who all lived and died at the end of the tussle with the beast made out of hands, Larkin’s overall resolution is a deft trick that gives Charlie a much-deserved victory without unnecessary plot armor, and without explaining away too much of the strangeness in the world that allowed the beast to rise up in the first place. The sun may peek out from the clouds at last, but the chill of the storm will linger for a while yet.
Ring Reads 