It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on the sexual endangerment of a minor, suicidal ideation, self-mutilation, grief, suicide, reproductive fertility, graphic descriptions of the mutilation of a minor, parental abuse, mental illness, sexual assault, & others.
Abigail Lamb is as sweet as the white fleece that encumbers the body of the flock. She is married to the one good man among a slew of vicious men: her dearly beloved Ralph Lamb. This man is as soft as a marshmallow, fresh from the bag; he is as tender as the heart that beats in his chest & as troubled as his soulless wife, Abigail.
Together they move into Laura Lamb’s house, a woman teetering inappropriate relations with her only son after swiping him away from the father he never got the chance to know. All men are devils in Laura’s eyes, except of course the marshmallow son that she strings along to the fire. Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) haunts Laura’s bones, ripples her skin & shoots itself out of her palette spewing seeds into Ralph’s vision, leaving him to fend for himself in a world blinded to the horrors he experienced as a child.
When Ralph meets Abigail, one evening at a bar, their lives are forever altered by their decision to completely forget the roads that led them there. Abigail has marooned through life, haunted by her mother’s promise to a boyfriend that she would offer him her own daughter for sexual relations (rape) if it meant he would stay with her. This mother, a person who never questioned Abigail’s actions or physical cries for help, lay stark naked in her child’s presence having nothing to hide so little was there of substance to her person.
How does one begin to grow past the void of a loving mother? In Abigail’s case, she grows from the tendrils planted firmly in the ground by a man named Ralph, a person who exhibits just as voracious of tendencies for self-harm as herself but, who hides it a wee bit better.
This is a book that presents the reader with many questions & ample instances to reflect on care & love. Who are we when, as children, we hadn’t been given the chance to grow into the people we hoped to become? What happens to those amongst us who are stunned, shattered & glued together by little children’s hands trying to manoeuvre their way through the world of giants?
There was no protagonist in this story, no one to come & save the day. The ending, the conclusion, & the final scene, are cut as we become aware that the reflections of trauma like light on a mirror’s surface, have every opportunity to shine again when one lets down their guard & is self-serving in a most muted & destructive manner. Though the majority of this book focuses on generalized descriptions of motherhood & what it means to be a mother figure, the presence of male characters both primary, secondary, & tertiary is very valuable to the narrative that Abigail spins.
One may spend hours dissecting this book so, before I begin my little exploration into the void let me start by saying that Hogarth wrote this story with more brilliance, gumption, morbidity, garishness, detail & force than I could have ever hoped to come across.
This story was presented in an astounding manner because Hogarth’s talent as an author absolutely annihilates any doubts that the characters are stored away, safely, out of reach. Everything in this book, within the character’s behaviour, tendencies & thoughts; the scenery of roadways, subway stations, long-term care facilities & snow-covered ground; morose basements, sticky bedsheets & skin follicle-covered surfaces, renders this story a colossal obstruction of the mundane; riddling itself into the subconscious, the parts of the self we seldom visit.
This is a story that is more than a ghost leaking phlegm into the crevices of those it haunts. This is a book about collapsing. One concludes their reading with a muted wish that the phantom of a goblin snuck into a closet at night, had been the only thing plaguing the pages.
As Abigail looks at the red-rimmed eye on the business card, handed to Ralph by an assistant of the Medium, she begins to connect all the red irises that she has come upon in her lifetime. Albeit, this is done unconsciously as Abigail has an innate ability to remain disconnected from reality. Regardless, this instance drew a particular intrigue from me as I found the significance troubling.
It is difficult to know where to start when reflecting upon the experiences I had while reading this book & to know where to start in terms of breaking down the characters into palatable morsels. In the beginning, I was rooting for Ralph & I should say that I maintained that sentiment throughout the novel. Therefore, it is with him that I shall commence.
The plot unravels before the reader as both Abigail & Ralph wait to hear from doctors about whether or not Laura’s suicide attempt was fatal. The story in its entirety is narrated by Abigail save for the parts that transform into theatre script; presented to the reader through a gap in Abigail’s subconscious that reflects, imagines, & transforms events into a type of acted scene. This was a delightful way of encouraging the reader’s view to change, the perspective altered by the narrator in something of a disconnected stance—staring into the void, if you will—about things that could or did in fact transpire. Due to the fact that Abigail narrates the story, our understanding of Ralph as a character is limited. He is a successful man, a loving man, & a man who was once a child caught in the riptide of a destructive wave of a mother who made no effort to ensure that her son had a healthy environment growing up.
This is not to say that I blame Laura for having a mental illness, I should not want my comments to be taken to this effect. I very much appreciate that there are significant aspects of our brains that are truly outside of our control. I also acknowledge that there are things that take place which alter the chemicals in the brain so that we are physically removed from who we were in the process of becoming.
What I am saying is that Ralph is a person who never stood a chance. It is revealed that he has previously made attempts on his own life. Being someone who deals with depressive episodes that result in auditory & visual hallucinations, Ralph is constantly making the effort to rise above his illness. It is so much easier to give someone a generalized coping mechanism than it is to put on their shoes & attempt to maneuver the ground they walk on, one that is scattered with eggshells. As helpful as the coping mechanisms, books, research, professional help, & relational love, have been in helping Ralph hold steadfast to mental wellness, he is attempting to overcome intergenerational trauma. This is no easy feat.
Upon learning that his mother has in fact died by suicide—having found her body mutilated in the open basement floor plan—Ralph’s depression sturdy grips & overwhelms him. It is hard to find reasons not to want the best for Ralph. He is, after all, the product of repeated childhood abuse & has spent all of his years trying to be the best version of himself in spite of that.
He moves back in with Laura upon learning of the devastating effects her mental illness has played on her solitude & works at being there for her, even knowing she was never there for him. I cannot say that this is a good or bad thing. Ultimately, it is up to the player to choose their best move & far be it from me to decide what is best for a generalized populace. However, deciding what is right & wrong is exactly what Abigail does, repeatedly & without hesitation.
As the reader grows longingly towards Ralph in the hopes that he might overcome this psychotic episode, we are exposed to the devilish reality that Abigail inhabits on a daily basis. Once again, we are asked to consider whether or not a person can be totally in control of their actions. One might employ the age-old question of nature versus nurture. Is Abigail the antithesis of Ralph or are they simply two sides of the same rusted coin?
It is pointedly awful to reflect on the message that Laura’s ghost gives Abigail especially given it is the truth. On the night when Abigail begins her period & subsequently realizes that she is not pregnant with ‘Cal’—the neutrally named baby she is certain to have—everything begins to tumble, though, admittedly, everything was going to hell far earlier than that night.
When told that she is not unique in her struggles, that her childhood experiences of neglect, distance, & heightened exposure to violence & sex, did not only happen to her (i.e. that other people experience bad things too), Abigail is repulsed. There is something to be said about validating someone’s experiences. There have been articles produced wherein people speak on their experiences of feeling demeaned by those who claim that they are ‘not alone’ in feeling or experiencing something. By simply bulking everyone into a single molten heap, we are invalidating an individual experience. There are certainly ways to ensure that someone does not feel isolated by their experiences without swooping how they feel under a rug. Unfortunately, when Laura tells Abigail that her experiences are not in fact uncommon—as horrible as that is to realize—she is being honest & given Abigail’s distinct disconnect with reality, there is hardly a better way of chiming the gong to return her to real life.
I do not mean that it is too late for Abigail to experience good things in her life nor am I saying that it is too late for her to seek help. However, this is someone who is on the cusp of putting another child’s life—little unborn Cal—into a toxic, abuse-ridden, situation & revitalizing the same things that she & Ralph experienced.
Abigail is her own self-fulfilling prophecy. She goes out of her way to victimize herself whilst demeaning the very valid reasons she has for experiencing the mental illness, trauma & struggles, that she does. We see this play out when she confronts Janet. Though it is an absurdly difficult thing to do, we must try & accept the fact that even the worst people in the world are viewed with love by at least one other person, even if only by themselves. Mrs. Bondy was an abusive parent to Janet. We must take her word for that. Yet, this same Mrs. Bondy is a loving, caring, tender figure in Abigail’s life. These two truths can be accurate, factual, & authentically representative of reality, at the same time. Perhaps due to her childhood experiences or perhaps due to her total lack of a sense of self, Abigail is unable to grasp that people are three-dimensional. She pretends to be dead so that Ralph is more interested in having sex with her because, in her mind, she is simply on earth to be void; no technicalities linking her to other human beings because no one else could have lived through such horrors as she did. Yet here, stands another person who lived through bad things, Janet. Perhaps Abigail is unable to grasp this fact as truth because she would have to come face to face with the fact that she loved & cared for an abusive person.
This is something we all have to come to terms with, some of us in quite shocking ways. Though no one really wants to stand out of the crowd & scream tender little words of adoration for someone who was a child abuser, it is nearly impossible to be made aware of every single person’s actions throughout all of their lives & even more difficult to distance ourselves from things we know not.
By loving Mrs. Bondy, Abigail must ignore Janet’s truth & highlight her own. She must disregard the fact that Mrs. Bondy is someone that is not entirely known to her—as we are never really fully known to anyone—& she must accept that it is possible that the person she adores, the mother she wishes was her own, wasn’t a very good mother after all.
I cannot say that it is within Abigail to sit with herself & be honest. If she were honest she would have to change & I cannot say that this is something she is able to do on her own, so far into the tar-filled crevices of her hiding places, is she. This is ultimately very sad. Though Abigail chooses to murder & cannibalize Janet, her reaction time is always a second delayed. Her self-serving mentality sees her at once ignore the fact that human flesh might probably poison Ralph, especially given the fact he’s barely eaten any food since his mother’s death, as well as ignore the fact that she did not kill a villain, she killed a victim.
What makes Janet any different than Ralph or Abigail? Nothing. Abigail chooses to believe Ralph, she has no proof of anything. Even living in the same house as Laura, abusers are very skilled at making themselves unknown. It would be just as easy to believe that Abigail was being sensitive when Laura said that the cookbook she cherishes was a piece of garbage—given that she found it in the literal trash.
However, she wants to believe Ralph because she wants Ralph’s love; she wants to be loved by someone, she wants to be cherished, & she wants to root herself in the confines of someone else’s life; she believes him when he says that he had a difficult relationship with his mother. So, she becomes a motherly figure for him as she hopes he will be for her.
Ultimately, the terrible ghost that haunts the house is the act of neglect. The reader stands toe-to-toe with troubled, unreliable, sick, mean-spirited, hopeful, & romantic characters. We are asked to practically disregard Laura’s apparition because it is nearly inconsequential.
Ralph is thrust into a psychotic episode not because he thinks he saw the ghost of his mother but because the person he was manipulated into loving, for her role in his life, stripped herself raw in a bloody mess for him to scrub away.
Abigail does not feed Ralph human flesh because Laura’s ghost is haunting his spirit but because she is someone whose validation arises from the comfort of physical proximity, having found it only with an inanimate object. Therefore feeding human flesh to her husband, with whom she shares physical intimacy girths the distance between what she lives in the world of human society & what she desires out of life, however much she actively denies it.
A collective denial from both parties sees them regaining the pattern they sought to escape all those many moons ago when they decided to get married, & never divorce. Their efforts into consummating a life ignore the ones they have yet to work on, their own. As wishfully wonderful as it may be to imagine birthing pure love, a child is a human being too.
Cal will be born into a world of patterns & fear; with heightened expectations to be the embodiment of Cupid’s arrow. Cal, a child, remains unknown to their parents as much as they are to the reader who spent 288 pages walking through life with them.
Cal, searching for the inanimate object that will reflect their emotions kindly, will welcome the child into its orbit, & will substitute as a mother thing for the one lost to the delusion of other mother things. With crass, reflective, vicious prose, Hogarth has entrapped me in the succulent cycle of thinking about everything I have yet to know.
Thank you to NetGalley, Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, & Ainslie Hogarth for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!