Scan barcode
A review by baileeparkes
The Rats by James Herbert
2.0
The Rats is a book I've been anticipating reading for ages now, a legendary horror novel, the origin of the "chiller" genre (if it is actually a genre). I first got a taste of this from an English Literature extra curricular class and it definitely gave me big An American Werewolf in London vibes. It was the scene with the workers on the Underground, a really great and memorable moment that showcases the horror writing style, while also showing more restraint than others. It also sets up the anthology-style structure of the novel (as well as some early-70s style casual racism). To be fair to Herbert, the racism is not endorsed it is presented in the flat, ugly way it exists in real life and that guy does get immediately devoured by rats - it doesn't make it any less unpleasant, but it's something.
Another thing that shows its age, as well as James Herbert novice novelist status, is the main character. It's telling when Neil Gaiman, in his foreword for the anniversary edition, roasts the main character as not even being as interesting as the random side-stories. And it's true. In my opinion, he suffers from a mighty rough case of self-insert syndrome that you find in so many first novels. He is just an everyman teacher, just getting by, and he's born and bred in the east end - working class but also educated. He has a beautiful young girlfriend who's always understanding and always horny. And he is specially recruited by the government for being the only man who has the know how to help them. There are genuinely great set-pieces centering the main character, and at the end there is a modicum of character development, like these events are actually having a psychological impact on him. Other than that he's white bread, honestly.
But the centrepiece of this novel is the gore, and boy does it bring the gore. It almost gets boring at points because it's so constant, but there is never a point where you get used to it. He just has a way to keep twisting the knife, so to speak; giving you just enough time to recover before the bloodbath begins again. The rats are just a uniquely disgusting presence filled with disease and hate that truly unnerve on every page. Say what you will about this book, but it delivers on its premise. Even when you wish it wouldn't.
Another thing that shows its age, as well as James Herbert novice novelist status, is the main character. It's telling when Neil Gaiman, in his foreword for the anniversary edition, roasts the main character as not even being as interesting as the random side-stories. And it's true. In my opinion, he suffers from a mighty rough case of self-insert syndrome that you find in so many first novels. He is just an everyman teacher, just getting by, and he's born and bred in the east end - working class but also educated. He has a beautiful young girlfriend who's always understanding and always horny. And he is specially recruited by the government for being the only man who has the know how to help them. There are genuinely great set-pieces centering the main character, and at the end there is a modicum of character development, like these events are actually having a psychological impact on him. Other than that he's white bread, honestly.
But the centrepiece of this novel is the gore, and boy does it bring the gore. It almost gets boring at points because it's so constant, but there is never a point where you get used to it. He just has a way to keep twisting the knife, so to speak; giving you just enough time to recover before the bloodbath begins again. The rats are just a uniquely disgusting presence filled with disease and hate that truly unnerve on every page. Say what you will about this book, but it delivers on its premise. Even when you wish it wouldn't.