A review by sisteray
Gateways to Abomination by Matthew M. Bartlett
3.0
This is one of those things where I totally get being drawn to this book, and if anyone loves it I feel like I should be there with you. If I were to try to sell anyone on this book I would immediately compare it to Brian Evenson’s immediacy of horror and gore from Dark Property, Thomas Ligotti’s chilling nowhere quality of a town overrun by horror to make it commonplace like Teatro Grottesco, or even the weirdo radio schtick from Welcome to Night Vale. For me though it felt like it was trying so hard to be those things, but it rarely felt like it was naturally there. It was like a pretty good fan fiction of those things.
Occasionally, things clicked and the pieces fit together with ease (namely The Investigator) but for the most part it just felt random and absurd with shocking images delivered like an edgelord troll on the internet. Moments like having an uncle have his family hammer his wang with a meat tenderizer, or a scary clown with syringes in his back, just feel tired and contrived.
Part of it was that he was really good at avoiding having to use dialogue so that when characters actually said stuff it was clear why he avoids it.
For me, the vignettes were so abstract that there was rarely anything for me to sink my teeth into. I had hopes that their interconnectedness was going to build a bigger picture, but the world building buried under his insistence on unreality. There was no payoff at the end.
It had a few great moments and was thankfully short enough that it didn’t feel like a waste of time. This is totally going to be someone’s favorite book, but it certainly isn’t mine.
Occasionally, things clicked and the pieces fit together with ease (namely The Investigator) but for the most part it just felt random and absurd with shocking images delivered like an edgelord troll on the internet. Moments like having an uncle have his family hammer his wang with a meat tenderizer, or a scary clown with syringes in his back, just feel tired and contrived.
Part of it was that he was really good at avoiding having to use dialogue so that when characters actually said stuff it was clear why he avoids it.
For me, the vignettes were so abstract that there was rarely anything for me to sink my teeth into. I had hopes that their interconnectedness was going to build a bigger picture, but the world building buried under his insistence on unreality. There was no payoff at the end.
It had a few great moments and was thankfully short enough that it didn’t feel like a waste of time. This is totally going to be someone’s favorite book, but it certainly isn’t mine.