Review - Ghoul by Brian Keene
It’s 1984 and best friends Timmy, Doug and Barry spend their summer reading comics, fighting bullies, and making the best damn fort in town. Their vacation gets cut short as an ancient evil awakens, prompting all three boys to face not only the nightmare under the cemetary but also the monsters already living in their own homes.
I’ll admit to a bit of bias. I’m well within the age range necessary to share many of the same experiences of a young boy in 1984. References to such pop culture detritus as Dio, Thundarr, Doctor Who and The Defenders are scattered thoughout, and while I certainly got a kick out of having a mirror held up to my own childhood, I wonder if the same could be said for readers outside of that age range. Regardless, this is obviously a love letter to Brian Keene’s own childhood and probably couldn’t be written any other way. While I’m sure the specific nostagia will be lost on many, those near universal aspects of summer vacation will no doubt resonate with anyone with lots of time on their hands and a forest or park nearby to waste the days exploring.
One of the most intriguing things about Ghoul is it’s scale. Everything takes place within one corner of a small community, essentially everything that can be found on the way to and from the houses of the three protagonists. In its way this is in keeping with the point of view of someone just entering their teens, before the world opens up and where their little corner still contains everything they need. Also of a smaller scale, and even more daring, is the threat itself. The ghoul of the title is presented as being a pathetic creature, damned to eat the flesh of the dead exclusively. Even the creature admits its deficiencies, comparing itself unfavourably to vampires and other more powerful monsters.
This isn’t to say the book doesn’t have its faults. The pacing is erratic at times, particularly since there doesn’t seem to be much driving the characters on in the beginning. Ghoul is a real slow burn, with the protagonists taking nearly two-thirds of the book’s length before they even realize that there’s something unnatural going on. And the description of the locale is a little overdone, in one case repeated almost verbatim from an earlier passage.
It’s to Keene’s credit that the characters and their everyday nightmares are engrossing enough to make up for a general lack of overt horror. In so many ways he’s able to find just the right tone to portray the teenage boy, such as placing the emotional worth of a comic book collection on the same level as a friend’s personal safety. In at least one regard Keene excels, and that’s in pulling no punches. Cruelty both great and small creeps through Ghoul, and no one is safe either physically or emotionally. And just when you think you’ve had enough heartbreak and pain, along comes a coda to knock you back on your ass, grateful that you made it through the entire thing. Time has a way of making a monster out of us all.