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A review by rantsandreads
Playground by Aron Beauregard
challenging
dark
sad
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.25
This book was like Squid Game for kids, but if Miss Trunchbull from Matilda was mentally disturbed, took hallucinogens and steroids and ran the whole thing. Enter Geraldine, the book’s grotesque and sadistic antagonist, who takes twisted delight in tormenting children justifiable—in her mind by her own shortcomings in fertility. Her warped sexual fantasies about her mother and those absurdly detailed descriptions of her genitals felt like they were there for pure shock value. I didn’t enjoy those moments—they felt misplaced and like filler designed to push boundaries rather than serve the story. But being a master of splatterpunk, Beauregard knows how to make horror fans squirm like they’ve never squirmethed before. I’ve got to admit, those early sexual descriptions had me internally gagging.
Once past that initial discomfort, the book’s true brilliance comes out. The playground games themselves are brutal, twisted, and absolutely captivating. I couldn’t help but root for the kids, fully absorbed in the brutal portrayal of just how far human nature can descend when fueled by survival, competition, and madness. Yet, amidst all that darkness, the goodness and innocence of children still managed to shine through. Beauregard perfectly balances characters you love to hate, ones who redeem themselves (Rock had me in a chokehold), and others who absolutely break your heart.
Some of the descriptions were so ridiculous that I started to wonder if they were part of an intentional, darkly satirical style. I wasn’t bothered by it, though—if anything, it added a strange kind of humor that I actually appreciated. Whether intentional or not, it made the book feel even more memorable.
Despite my gripes with the early demented, sexually charged scenes, Playground is a stomach-churning, page-turning journey. There were moments that had me gasping, unable to stop reading until sleep forced me to. It’s the kind of horror that pushes boundaries and takes you to places you don’t want to go, but you can’t stop yourself from enjoying the ride.
Once past that initial discomfort, the book’s true brilliance comes out. The playground games themselves are brutal, twisted, and absolutely captivating. I couldn’t help but root for the kids, fully absorbed in the brutal portrayal of just how far human nature can descend when fueled by survival, competition, and madness. Yet, amidst all that darkness, the goodness and innocence of children still managed to shine through. Beauregard perfectly balances characters you love to hate, ones who redeem themselves (Rock had me in a chokehold), and others who absolutely break your heart.
Some of the descriptions were so ridiculous that I started to wonder if they were part of an intentional, darkly satirical style. I wasn’t bothered by it, though—if anything, it added a strange kind of humor that I actually appreciated. Whether intentional or not, it made the book feel even more memorable.
Despite my gripes with the early demented, sexually charged scenes, Playground is a stomach-churning, page-turning journey. There were moments that had me gasping, unable to stop reading until sleep forced me to. It’s the kind of horror that pushes boundaries and takes you to places you don’t want to go, but you can’t stop yourself from enjoying the ride.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Animal death, Body horror, Child abuse, Child death, Incest, Pedophilia, Sexual violence, Torture, and Vomit