Andrew F. Sullivan

The promise of progress has been tantalizing dreamers for centuries, often to their ruin, and it’s the tug-and-pull of progress, greed, and ruin which Sullivan manages to explore and subvert in this gorgeous work of eco-horror.

From the very opening of The Marigold, there’s an awareness of nature being encroached upon by humanity’s search for what comes next, to the extent that that ‘next’ enslaves their every waking hour. But here, with a breathless feeling of both dread and triumph—well, triumph for those of us who often root for Nature finding a way—the reader sees Nature fighting back with a vengeance for its own progress. And there’s something utterly wonderful about this, both in the horror which Sullivan delivers alongside this movement and also when it comes to the attention he gives to the naturalness of it all. Alongside the more artificial progress made by humanity’s greed, where everything is quickly shown to be a tower of cards, the give-and-take of Nature’s very different understanding of life and death is impossible to deny...and beautifully delivered with every word of rot, horror, and ruin.

As with some of Sullivan’s short stories, entrapment is an aching theme throughout the work, but by showing it in such different terms, he manages to give a nod to the “real world” we know and fear while elevating the horror at the heart of this novel. On one hand, it’s entrapment through progress, through greed, and through foresight. And, on the other hand, it’s the very physical entrapment of a strained, unnatural cityscape imploding with the force of all it’s held off.

But while all this sounds really bleak, no small part of the beauty in this novel comes from the pure joy with which Sullivan delivers the horror and the ruin. Terrifying as the book may be, it is also fun, oddly pure, and masterful in its every scene. The small grotesqueries and the constant tributes to the natural world—and the weird, sweet, elegance of even the gooiest parts of nature—are given such careful attention that fungi all but bleed off the page for the reader, just as is the case for characters. Admittedly, I fell in love with even the most dangerous organisms in this book, and they’re no small part of what makes this book’s contribution to eco-horror so undeniable.

I’ll be rereading and recommending this book for a long time to come. Whether you come to it through the lens of eco-fiction or horror, you’ll find something here to fall into, and be horrified and mesmerized by.… (plus d'informations)

From the beginning of this book an ominous tone is set. From the moment the family steps foot into their new home, they notice that there are problems with it, made even worse by the fact that it was meant to represent a new start for them. They had high hopes on a house that was literally sinking into the ground, so it didn't take very long for the situation to take an even darker turn. The first project Trent takes on sees supernatural elements introduced and readers are propelled into a world of creepy symbols, strange occurrences, and characters who can’t be trusted. As is true of most works of horror, the story quickly slides into an unrecognizable place where characters and situations become more and more outrageous, more and more creepy, causing more and more self-doubt to the main character that it has decided to attach itself to...and in this case it's Trent. However, the question remains as to whether Trent is the one sliding into madness, or if it's the world around him...specially in the house, that is changing. Milo, the son, describes his family as having "weak spots" to begin with, and the house immediately takes that to heart and exploits that by dragging them each into a hellish world of frightening creatures that are seen in both the daytime and the nighttime. The family is allowed a few weeks of bliss once the initial scary creepiness settles down. But it is the eye of the storm, and the author shows that it is only numerous elements of foreshadowing that suggest this calm is very short-lived. Milo desperately attempts to please his father in their new home, but the house is not the only thing that is changing...Trent is changing along with the house. It seems that Milo can't ever quiet find common ground with his dad. I believe Milo's thoughts sums it up fairly well...“If he could just do that, strengthen his mind, it’d make his father happy. And when Dad was happy, the house was happy. And when the house was happy, they could all be happy.” Oh Yes...you diffidently want this house to be happy!… (plus d'informations)