" I never thought I could say that I've read mythological dustbowl hobo horror, but -- now I have! Mr. Shivers is the first horror I've read in a long while, and it's appropriately skin-crawly and eerie. Its eponymous character/villain is constantly hinted at -- and pursued -- with a building mythos and word-of-mouth. I really liked the way the narrative dug into each layer of the legend, adding to it with each character's new story. The plot is very linear; Connelly experiences a sorta Odysseus-esque sequence of terrible events one after another (complete with possibly-faithful Penelope waiting for him at the end, possibly); the experiences become progressively more mythological/fantastical as the novel crawls away from realism, which especially hit me once you (briefly) meet the three 'bitches' (witches, Norns, fates, whatever you want to call them). Almost the entire cast consists of people wracked and driven to extremes by grief, so the body count rises and the novel gets progressively more grisly and harrowing. It's a very atmospheric glimpse into bleak, Depression-era America.
From the premises of all Bennett's books, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with all of his concepts -- but since this one's his debut, there are some flaws. The characterisations aren't fleshed out very much, and about halfway through, I already figured out what the ending would be. But I liked his writing, and the real gut-punching edge-of-seat-sitting emotional crux, IMO, happens 2/3 through the book when (view spoiler)[Connelly and Mr. Shivers have their first face-to-face conversation (hide spoiler)].
So, accordingly, I've quoted pretty much the entire end of chapter 20 below because I loved it so much.
(view spoiler)["I have walked in dark places where eyeless things of no mind and no soul gnaw the bottoms of mountains and eat rock and stone the likes of which mankind has never known and will never know. I have watched eons being devoured by crushing waves and as I watched I knew in my heart that I was the sole witness of their existence and their passing. I have stalked the forests that ring the top of this earth where snow is thick and silence has gone undisturbed for centuries, and lifetimes may pass before finding a single footprint in the snow. And I have walked toward the center of this vast spinning world, Mr. Connelly, where light has no meaning and all is consumed, and I looked at the great violation that makes this land's heart, that fills it with hunger, and on the sides of that black crack was my name written again and again and again. And again and again and again. Do you hear me, little man? Do you hear me?"
He looked down on Connelly, eyes still blank. "I have done things which your mind cannot possibly comprehend, which you cannot ever approach. I am in all shadows and in no shadow, I am in every atom and I am in every heart. And I will not allow the new day to break. Night everlasting, if it may be so. And you must stop, Mr. Connelly. You must stop. You must leave me be and stop."
Connelly said, "Then kill me."
The gray man charged forward, his long white hands grasping out, but they stopped inches away from Connelly's neck. He saw the scarred man struggle, face contorted, like he was pulling against an unimaginable force. He shuddered, then withdrew, his chest heaving and a sheen of sweat across his pallid brow.
"I could," said the gray man. "I could. I dearly wish to. But there are rules. There is order. Natures which cannot be denied." He looked down on Connelly. "You will die here. If you follow this path you will be destroyed. I know. And if you follow me any further, Mr. Connelly, everyone you know and everyone you trust will find their end here as well. Know that. Know that and do what you will, if you survive the next day."
The gray man turned to walk away. He opened the iron door and as he stood in the hall light he looked like any tramp again, just a tired old tramp with a ruined face.
"I want to know something," said Connelly.
The gray man looked back, his expression inscrutable.
"I want to know why you killed my little girl."
The gray man cocked his head. There was no thought in his face or his posture. He regarded Connelly for a second and said, "So that she would die."
The door shut. Connelly began screaming again. He screamed until the guards came and beat him and threw him back into his cell. (hide spoiler)]
So, in conclusion: a good mythical read, bleak and unsettling, but v. linear and predictable; I'm stoked to check out his next books. "
— Julie, 12/30/2013