Hemlock B Bootsalotta

I stayed up late to finish Hungerstone by Kat Dunn. Ahh, what a fun and satisfying read that was. It’s been a while since I was that invested in a book and I think it’s cured me of my reading slump, so huzzah!

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ .25 for this one. Loved the reading experience, would recommend to readers of Gothic horror lit, Victorian era setting novels, and sapphic romances.

I liked the novel’s setting in Sheffield, something different from the usual London setting, and the era of the Industrial Revolution coming into its might and the mechanization of life. The novel portrayed the results from the shift from agrarian to industry-based life and the price paid for it, namely the compromises and sacrifices made for the acquisition of money and the addiction to convenience, and the suppression of our natural instincts.

The literary and historical allusions running through my mind as I read included: “Nature, red in tooth and claw,” from Alfred, Lord Tennyson; “Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive,” from Sir Walter Scott; the general concept of “the Little Englander” and a provincial mindset. I appreciate a novel that can tie in information like that, especially for eras that have receded into a more distant past.

The writing was good, stayed faithful to the spirit of the times, with descriptions that evoked both the beauty and eeriness of the moors. I liked how the author presented a character’s journey from deception to self-awareness. Many quotable lines, too. Liked the gemstone symbolism, too, (and because of that symbolism, I think in that final scene, Henry is still lying to Lenore). Cue Dame Shirley Bassey singing about diamonds being forever.

Lenore, the main character and narrator of the story, is a symbol of compromise, the cost of the Industrial Revolution in terms of agency and mental and physical health. The industries pollute the environment and compromises poison the soul. Her husband Henry symbolizes the Faustian bargain desperate people make to have success in a stratified and classist society. The journalist, the police detective, and the discussions about industrial accidents represent the attempts to hold people like Henry accountable for their deceptions.

Lenore’s parents and Aunt Daphne represent the slow death of the aristocracy and landed gentry as their status is replaced by industrial middle class and ambitious men like Henry. Their friend Cora, represents someone who gets used and swept up in the events, way out of her depth. Molly, the domestic staff, and the workers represent the mostly nameless and almost invisible (to Henry and his peers) underclass who keep the symbolic and actual machinery running. The mansion Nethershaw as a character is interesting too, both a symbol of decaying aristocracy and the rising middle class/new money’s attempt to slap a coat of paint on decay for yet another facade.

And then there’s Carmilla, the chaos agent, force of nature, instinct and, well, plot device.

Which brings me to aspects of the novel that didn’t mesh too well. It wasn’t quite the sapphic vampire romance it was marketed to be. The discrepancy between a book’s marketing and its actuality is an issue I’m running into over and over again. I’m finding it best to ignore the hype and go into a book with lower expectations. That makes for a better reading experience because then I can accept a book as it is. I’m not sure what the best answer is for this dilemma. Authors and publishers want to sell books of course, and hype works, but only to an extent. Then people get disappointed and I get that not everyone enjoyed this book because of disappointed expectations.

The novel undergoes a tonal shift in the third act, switching from straightforward history-informed narrative to Victorian penny dreadful and some readers might find that jarring, although I think that was a deliberate choice to show how Lenore’s life is shattering.

Lenore’s narrative gets fairly repetitive, yet again, I think that was a deliberate choice to illustrate the “tangled web” of her carefully manufactured life and its unraveling: her rumination and repetitive chores, echoed in the repeated actions of her lying in tangled bedsheets, eating the pastilles, and the mundane conversations she has with her husband and friend Cora.

But yeah, again with the chestnut hair. Which brings me back to Carmilla and the novel’s goal to be a retelling of the Coleridge Christabel poem and Le Fanu novella.

No doubt Carmilla is an interesting character, the one who interrupts Lenore’s life and eventually breaks down her delusions and deception. Cool, cool, but we never get a complete idea of who Carmillia is or where she comes from. Is she an aristocratic lady traipsing about the moors and getting her kicks by trolling the industrialists or is she an immortal spirit of vengeance akin to one of the Furies? Either scenario would be compelling but the story doesn’t take us there.

Lenore makes an initial effort to track down Carmilla’s family history but then gives up. We get one tantalizing clue that Carmilla might be an immortal but that too, doesn’t go anywhere. The Le Fanu novella goes into more detail about Carmilla and by doing so, established much of the lore associated with vampires. Well, there’s only so much you can do within a set of page numbers and choices have to be made.

Overall, I enjoyed Hungerstone; it gave me much to… wait for it… feast upon.