A review by trudilibrarian
The Cypress House by Michael Koryta
4.0
I stumbled upon this book completely by accident one day whilst poking around my library’s fiction stacks. I had never heard of this Michael Koryta guy before but the unusual premise for this one grabbed my attention immediately, and a few enthusiastic reviews here on GR convinced me to give it a try.
This book is all kinds of awesome, and I think what I enjoyed about it the most is that it’s so hard to categorize –- it’s like ten genres in one. That isn't to say the book is confused, far from it. Koryta has such control over the magic he weaves here. He is a skilled storyteller, an absolute master at pacing and plot. His descriptive prose is so lush on the one hand and so cuttingly precise on the other that the entire novel unfolds in cinematic detail. I could see and feel everything – like the thick humidity of the swamp, sweaty and heavy on my skin making it hard to breathe. I smelled the sickening fetid rot and the coppery stench of blood. My pulse raced with fear and worry, my bile rose in disgust and outrage. I lusted for revenge and prayed for forgiveness. I carried the characters’ guilt and heart ache on my shoulders and longed for their escape and redemption
Koryta manages to accomplish so much here – a supernatural tale firmly grounded in realism containing aspects of both the historical and the crime novel. There is mystery, there is love, there is corruption, there is betrayal, there is friendship. In an interview Koryta explains:
This book is all kinds of awesome, and I think what I enjoyed about it the most is that it’s so hard to categorize –- it’s like ten genres in one. That isn't to say the book is confused, far from it. Koryta has such control over the magic he weaves here. He is a skilled storyteller, an absolute master at pacing and plot. His descriptive prose is so lush on the one hand and so cuttingly precise on the other that the entire novel unfolds in cinematic detail. I could see and feel everything – like the thick humidity of the swamp, sweaty and heavy on my skin making it hard to breathe. I smelled the sickening fetid rot and the coppery stench of blood. My pulse raced with fear and worry, my bile rose in disgust and outrage. I lusted for revenge and prayed for forgiveness. I carried the characters’ guilt and heart ache on my shoulders and longed for their escape and redemption
Koryta manages to accomplish so much here – a supernatural tale firmly grounded in realism containing aspects of both the historical and the crime novel. There is mystery, there is love, there is corruption, there is betrayal, there is friendship. In an interview Koryta explains:
while I grasp the idea of genre differences, I’ve never particularly cared about them as a reader. I can be equally entertained by Elmore Leonard or Stephen King or Pat Conroy. They are all gifted storytellers, and if you’re telling me a good story I’m not … inclined to worry about the genre.Amen, ain’t that the truth? I always thought so anyway. As for this book? Read it.