“Jude had the skull of a peasant who had been trepanned in the sixteenth century, to let the demons out. He kept a collection of pens jammed into the hole in the center of the cranium. He had a three-hundred-year-old confession, signed by a witch…She was burned to death. He had a stiff and worn noose that had been used to hang a man in England at the turn of the nineteenth century…Many of the objects in his private collection of the grotesque and the bizarre were sent to him by his fans. It was rare for him to actually buy something for the collection himself. But when Danny Wooten, his personal assistant, told him there was a ghost for sale on the Internet and asked did he want to buy it, Jude didn’t even need to think. It was like going out to eat, hearing the special, and deciding you wanted it without even looking at the menu. Some impulses required no consideration…”
- Joe Hill, Heart-Shaped Box
The best horror novels I’ve read aren’t so much scary as they are unsettling. They create a mood of pervasive, oppressive dread. I know this type of book is really working when I am tempted to stop reading it. For example, Stephen King’s Pet Sematary disturbed me so much that – when I finished – I hid it behind other books on my shelf, so I wouldn’t get tricked into thinking about it.
Joe Hill’s Heart-Shaped Box is not quite in that upper tier, but for long stretches, this tale of a relentless and vengeful ghost comes quite close. Even though it falters at the end, it thoroughly creeped me out, which is meant as high praise.
***
One of the things that surprised me about Heart-Shaped Box is its pace. Knowing it was a ghost story, I expected things to proceed gradually, with heavy reliance on atmosphere. Instead, Hill wastes no time on the setup.
Within the first few pages, we are introduced to Judas “Jude” Coyne, an aging rock star with a taste for ghoulish artifacts and young Goth women. He buys a dead man’s suit, which comes in the titular box (Heart-Shaped Box is also the title of a Nirvana song, with other rock titles lending themselves to each section heading). Accompanying both suit and box is a decidedly unfriendly ghost.
Very soon, Jude has hit the road with his girlfriend, Marybeth, and his two dogs, formulating a plan while being chased by a spirit in a phantom truck.
***
Given that Hill is the son of the aforementioned Stephen King, it shouldn’t be surprising that there are a couple scenes in Heart-Shaped Box of extremely questionable taste. But though there is definitely graphic violence and gore, that isn’t the animating principle. Rather, Hill is generally pretty subtle in his evocations. The descriptions of the ghost, and its interactions with the world, are chilling, especially early in the novel when it seems unstoppable. The vibe is effectively grim.
As the story unfolds, Heart-Shaped Box loses a bit of its potency, especially as Jude – as required by horror conventions – learns the rules about the ghost’s capabilities, and how it might be defeated. This barely even matters, though, since Hill – like a clever magician – provides other things to focus on. Chief among them is the mystery of the ghostly grudge, which Jude and Marybeth must unravel before becoming spirits themselves.
***
Though it exists in an oft-deprecated genre, Heart-Shaped Box is serious about its characters.
When we first meet Jude, he is a tough protagonist to root for, a low-grade misogynist who refuses to call his disposable girlfriends by name, referring to them instead by their state of origin. Honestly, I initially thought he entirely deserved to be stalked by a supernatural predator. Meanwhile, his girlfriend Marybeth – also known as “Georgia” – comes across as a stereotypically shallow groupie.
As Heart-Shaped Box progresses, however, Hill gives both Jude and Marybeth additional layers, enriching the characterizations. This raises the stakes, because the more we understand them, the more we like them, and the more worried we become. As a side benefit, the flashbacks allow Hill to modulate the tension, giving us a breather between terror-filled set pieces.
***
Heart-Shaped Box engrossed me from beginning to end, even as it made me a little shuddery. Still, it’s far from a perfect novel. Though it moves along well, it probably could have been a little leaner than 400 pages, a length that is padded out by certain scenes that go on too long. For instance, there is a sequence involving a Ouija board that is unnecessarily elongated because Jude doesn’t believe it will work – which is weird, considering he’s actually in a complicated relationship with a specter.
Without getting into specifics, the ending is also a mild-to-moderate disappointment. It’s one thing to suspend your disbelief when it comes to the existence of ghosts, and another thing to suspend your disbelief as to the real-world consequences that might follow. The conclusion of Heart-Shaped Box is hard to take seriously. Beyond that, the endgame drags on and on, ultimately veering into a mawkishness that badly blunts the novel’s earlier sharpness.
***
The very best horror often masks societal critiques or serious examinations of the human condition. That’s not really present here. Heart-Shaped Box is filled with wounded children and bad parents, but there are no profound observations, or any of the thematic brilliance found in the masterpieces of Hill’s father.
In the end, this is more of a campfire story, the kind that gives you shivers along your spine, and encourages you to get a little closer to the flames. It is incredibly well-executed and professionally crafted, but not quite unforgettable.