Sometimes a family can be a lesbian, her girlfriend, and her two ghosthunting dads, and I think that is truly beautiful. The editor for The Dead and the Dark described it as “like Riverdale, but good,” and they are absolutely right about it. In a quiet town in Oregon on the edge of nowhere, the tragic disappearance of a young boy marks the beginning of a descent into upheaval. Enter into the chaos TV’s resident ghost hunting duo, Brandon and Alejo, returning to their hometown of Snakebite after many years in hopes of solving the disappearance. Joining them in this endeavor is their daughter Logan, who has never felt more out of sorts than she has upon her arrival in the strange town. With more teenagers winding up missing, and still no answers in sight, Logan begins to take matters into her own hands as she enlists the aid of an unlikely stranger. Someone who just might help her discover what lurks behind the shadows.
Upon starting The Dead and the Dark, I began to feel myself slowly unwind as I was led deeper into its tangled web of secrets. Secrets that built up inside my mind until they threatened to crash down the very foundations that had been so delicately composed. All this is an elaborate way of saying that this book not only architectured an intricately layered horror story, but managed to make me cry in the process. A feat that has never been easily attained in my book. Courtney Gould’s inquiry into grief and loneliness is certainly one that evokes emotion and left me with not much else to do but grapple with all that had been expressed. The novel’s subtle exposition of a darkness taking root in a small community, and the ramifications associated with giving such a darkness voice, was such a powerful component throughout. I’ve found that horror grounded in truth will always triumph over everything else and never fail to leave an impression on me. Which is perhaps the strongest part of this debut, and had me thinking for days afterward about the meaning behind it all. Going into this, all I really had in the back of my mind were two things: sapphics + ghosts, and dammit if either of them weren’t flawlessly represented in all parts of the novel. The ghost hunting girlfriend representation the world was waiting for and we all deserve. From the cover alone, I should have known this book would give me everything I needed. A look into an eerie town and the secrets it contains, and a visualization of the resentment that often follows people from place to place. I loved the deep dive into family dynamics and the commentary on how unresolved trauma can adversely impact the relationship between parent and child. Throughout the sinister undertones, that remained apparent and was touched on well. The twisting nature and Stranger Things vibe of this will certainly draw people in, but much like the darkness at work within the town, they will stay entirely for one messy ghosthunting family.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing this arc to review.
Trigger warnings: blood, violence, murder, attempted murder, drowning, funeral, death of a main character, homophobia, homophobic language, hate crimes
