Well, here it is, the final Nevill book that I own that I needed to read. (Actually, I still have to read the free ebook that you get when you sign up for his newsletter, but I believe that features short stories that are in other anthologies and some essays, so not technically an available book.)
I never read a Nevill book until I joined Kendall Reviews way back about seven years ago, and it seemed fitting that with the closing of this reading chapter – in that I’ve completed my read-through of Nevill’s current bibliography – this review is hosted again on Kendall Reviews.
If not for having discovered Andrew Pyper and his work that has played such a powerful and special role in my life, I can safely say, that Nevill would be my all-time favorite author. As is, I’ve slotted him in the place of 1B or Silver Medalist, but not by much. Well, a little. But not a lot.
With each of his books, I’ve found that very few people out there can go as utterly fucking dark and bleak as Nevill can. Whether it’s the rain and foggy gloom of ‘The Ritual,’ the subtle noises and occasional smells in ‘Apartment 16,’ the decayed sludge and peeling back of the wallpaper in ‘Under a Watchful Eye,’ or the sheer terror and mold that grows within ‘Last Days,’ Nevill finds a way to clobber the reader over the head every time. And that’s not even me discussing the other masterpieces in his bibliography such as ‘House of Small Shadows,’ ‘Lost Girl,’ ‘Cunning Folk,’ or ‘All the Fiends of Hell.’ And even then, there are a few others I’ve not alluded to.
The reality is, Nevill has a bibliography untouched in its sheer volume of terror and magnitude of dirt. Each book leaves the reader sweaty and covered in scum. And we eat it up begging for more.
This brings me to the last of his that I needed to read, but also the first of his that was published. ‘Banquet for the Damned’ kept tugging at me to read it, even when I decided to tackle other doorstoppers like ‘No One Gets Out Alive.’ It was always there, and now that I’ve read it, much like the other books he’s released, it’ll always be there, lurking in the shadows, reminding me that there are scary things that go bump in the night.
What I liked: I’ve said this before, but Nevill is truly one of a kind. He bridges the gap between the old world of horror writing, the British way of overly describing things and pushing things based on dialogue, but also the new way of horror writing, quick, visceral snippets of action. He’s equally a director who would release a five-hour opus for cinema while sharing how much they love thirty-second clips on TikTok. And frankly, it works perfectly well.
As is always the case, every single sentence in this is loaded with dread and we arrive in St. Andrews, where Dante and Tom – two twenty-something musicians – have arrived to write their musical masterpiece, based on the teachings and beliefs of Dante’s hero, an enigmatic professor and writer, Eliot Coldwell. Not long after, we’re also introduced to Hart, an anthropologist, who’s arrived to investigate why so many students of Coldwell’s are having horrendous nightmares and are turning up dead.
It’s these two storylines that crisscross back and forth for a solid 50% of the novel that has the reader gripped. But it’s not so much a story about Dante and Coldwell and Coldwell’s young, gorgeous assistant who takes a shine to Dante. No, this is a novel about what happens to them.
Slowly, delicately, they start with a shine and as Nevill peels back each layer, we see the dirt begin to pack on and the darkness surrounds them.
The pacing of this shifts from glacial to speed-rocket at times, making for a very challenging, but rewarding read, and I found that, though there’s nothing implied here with connectivity, much like we get with ‘Last Days’ and ‘Under a Watchful Eye,’ but this novel felt like a connected thematic soul to ‘Under a Watchful Eye’ and ‘Apartment 16.’ As though the world was the same, just nobody had met each other at any point.
The mythology/lore that Nevill ultimately gives us was spot on and terrifying, perfect for fans of ‘The Reddening’ and ‘Cunning Folk,’ but hinted even more to what we got with his novella, ‘The Vessel.’
What I didn’t like: I found that the pacing was so different between Hart’s chapters and Dante’s chapters at the beginning that it felt very rough and start-stop. Too jerky. But that smooths out nicely and things take off. So, be prepared that at the start, you may find yourself weaving in and out of this one.
Why you should buy this: Well, granted, I might be the last Nevill fan on the planet who hasn’t read this one, but if you love Adam’s work, definitely get on this one. It was great to see where he started, but also just how solid of a writer he’s always been.
As for what is within, the story is as bleak and dark as you’d expect from a Nevill offering and gives us a look at the worlds and blackness that was to come.
Outstanding.