Adam Nevill

Adam Nevill is a fine writer of horror. This novel is in two roughly equal parts that are quite different in approach. The first may be one of the finest bits of horror writing to be found in my library, the second slightly less so although both are fully connected and read as a whole.

The first half is a combination of Swedish noir (in atmosphere) and a narrative of the hunt by an unknown beast in virgin ancient forest whose early inhabitants were clearly operating well outside modern show more civilised norms. However, that is not why it is interesting.

Nevill tells a tale of thirty-something male disappointment in life that rings true from beginning to end. The story holds us with precise description of landscape and a vivid characterisation of rather weak educated urban characters trying to survive in an alien habitat.

They make dumb decisions and they pay the price. None is truly competent to hike in a serious wilderness. They cannot even be said to have much in common although they were once close university friends. Eventually extreme danger brings at least two of them back together again.

The novel in this half is as much about what it is to be a modern urban male caught between the desire for freedom and the gross obligations of marriage and property as horror. Neither freedom nor false security, it seems, make a man wholly happy as he moves towards his fortieth birthday.

A theme of the book is that raw existence set against the elements and human barbarism operates in a very different way from the safe but unsatisfactory lives we live in 'civilisation'. Nevill cites Cormac McCarthy as an influence in his 'Acknowledgements' and we presume 'On the Road' here.

There were points in this first half when Nevill captured my imagination entirely, not with horror (although he spares nothing essential yet is not interested in grossing us out for its own sake) but with sympathy for the characters as weak all-too-human humans out of their depth.

Human barbarism is represented in the second half by three teenage psychopathic black metal nihilists who are set off against both the alternative pagan culture of non-human leftovers from an ancient past and the victims of both in a vague allegory of the human condition.

In our family, we say a book of remorseless misery and terror has a 'Quincunx' quality after Charles Palliser's remarkable modern pastiche of the nineteenth century novel. This book too is remorseless, almost to the point where it goes over the top in the second half and loses our interest.

The social dynamic underpinning the story of the four original protagonists is lost in the second half and the plot moves into entirely new territory with new characters (bar the hero-protagonist and the beast) within a pagan rites framework.

This second half is mostly as well written as the first (they might as well be two linked but still separate novella), something cross-bred between the 'Straw Dogs', 'The Wicker Man' and Arthur Machen (with a dash of Algernon Blackwood), but it lacks something.

Whereas the four depressed and/or naive four university friends seem very authentic, people we could know, the three Norwegian black metal fiends, who have taken over the house in the forest where our hero, Luke, ends up after the first half, seem far less so.

Perhaps Nevill knows people like the former university friends but understandably does not spend a lot of time with murderous young psychopaths. The latter work for the horror angle but not so much for the book as novel, something more than genre.

The story becomes structured at this point as a set of formulae derived from horror tropes, albeit never other than well written, rather than as an independently generated observation of real people and an imaginative reconstruction of how they might behave in extreme situations.

Whereas in the first half the story requires no overt philosophising, the second half has a paragraph stating a depressive view of humanity that you might expect when someone cites McCarthy as a source. This should not really be necessary from an author.

But, overall, the story is a very good one. Nevill writes well about existential terror and our animal instinct for survival against immense odds. The final scenes, with an ambiguous end (but no spoilers here), reminds one of an extended version of Jacques Tourneur's 'Night of the Demon'.

There is a very creative melding of many horror themes here but the cinematic is as important as the literary. It is no surprise to hear that it has been made into a film which I am now reluctant to see - the first part stands so well as literature, I don't want it ruined.

Is it a masterpiece of horror? Not quite though it could have been if the first part had just been left to stand as a novella but we guess the second half was necessary to make it bankable.

Horror aficionados will certainly appreciate the sophisticated development of some of the themes to be found in Arthur Machen's work, especially the drawing out of what his little pre-human people might have been like. It can fairly be classed as a work in the folk horror tradition.

Whatever the loss of dynamism experienced in the second half (though it certainly has its moments), it is still a very good read with fine writing regardless. Highly recommended for horror fans. show less

Nevill has been among my favourite authors from my first read of his books. My favourite out of those I’ve read so far remains No One Gets Out Alive. This newest novel may well be a close second, although trying to choose the best of this author’s work is difficult. In this (possible) alien invasion, supernatural horror, there’s so much to appreciate. The author well uses every sentence, creates a solid plot, and introduces a protagonist who is an average man thrown into exceptional show more circumstances. One of the book’s strengths is this character’s reactions. Even when he’s frozen in indecision, making me scream, the reaction is appropriate, genuine, and realistic. Real people aren’t superheroes. When hurt, people writhe in pain, unable to always miraculously drag themselves to their feet. The bad guy reminded me of several people I’ve stumbled across and was an excellent love-to-hate antagonist. The world-building also performs well, creating a steady creeping atmosphere and breakdown of our world. Although the horrors unfolding take place on Earth, they feel terribly genuine. The question of what’s bleeding through into our existence, extraterrestrial, inter-dimensional, denizens of hell… you’ll be wondering about and believing in them all, gazing at the sky and hoping it never turns red. show less

Kyle Freeman is a down-on-his-luck freelance documentarian with no prospects or rent payment for the foreseeable future. So when Max Solomon offers him the opportunity to make a documentary about the infamous Temple of the Last Days cult of the 1970s, Kyle jumps at the chance. It's not just the boatload of money that's being offered or the real possibility of actual future respect in his craft although these are certainly a big part of his motivation for taking the job; it is also curiosity show more about what happened to cause things to go so bad all those years ago. Sometimes, however, as Kyle is about to learn the hard way, it is much, much better and safer to let sleeping dogs lie. Otherwise, they might just rear up to bite you.

Last Days is more atmosphere than gore, more itchy chills down the spine than jump out of your seat frights. The story starts slowly, drawing the audience in, building tension and anticipation. And author Adam Nevill really knows how to ramp up the creep factor when it finally arrives.

it would be almost impossible to review this book without mentioning the ending. My first response was an annoyed 'wha...'. But, after a bit of thought, and this ending will definitely make you think, I realized that Last Days ends exactly where it should. Sometimes, like Kyle, the reader has to know when to respect those sleeping dogs. show less

Well, that was a horrifying experience - not because the story was scary but because the writing was so bad and the book was so long! For the first hundred pages, when I knew there was another 550 to go and the pacing was like wading through sludge, I was tempted to DNF and delete from my Kindle. I persevered, however, and when the supernatural element took over from the weak attempt at social commentary, reading became easier but I was still ploughing through to get to the end.

Whining show more ingenue Stephanie Booth relocates from her hometown of Stoke to Birmingham looking for work, and moves into a depressing room at 82 Edgehill Road because the creepy landlord, 'Knacker' McGuire. is only asking for £40. She quickly realises that the place is a modern house of horrors, however, and that Knacker's Fagin act is the least of her problems (his Dickens-esque Cockney accent is painful to read!) Voices call to her from the fireplace and under the bath, while somebody or something wrapped in plastic is trying to crawl out from under the bed. Footsteps and crying from other rooms would suggest that other women are sharing her fate but the only other person Stephanie meets is Knacker's 'cousin' Feargal, a caricature straight out of Deliverance. When two Eastern European women finally do move in with her, the house suddenly turns into a knocking shop, and that, weirdly, is what drives Stephanie to breaking point. She's not a whore and wants out - but is she trapped?

Why are you still here?

Stephanie is, without a doubt, the most deeply annoying character I have ever had to share a narrative with. All she does is bemoan her life instead of taking action. She knows the house and the landlord are dangerous, and even plans to leave and stay in a hotel multiple times, but somehow never makes the effort to just get the hell out. When she finally confronts Knacker and his cartoon accent, she ends up helping him to pay off his bills instead! Girl, JUST GO, ffs! As Knacker Van Dyke tells her: ‘Make you? No one is trying to make you do nuffin’. You knew what the score was, so why didn’t you fuck off, like?' I think we're meant to feel sorry for her because she has no one and nothing and is at the mercy of 'the man' but I just wanted to smack her - the house is disgusting to start with, but sure, choose ghosts and grime over your life, good plan. And oh my god, how does she not know what Knacker means when he talks about 'the Scrubs'?

The haunting of Edgehill Road is actually well written - hence the three stars instead of the two I originally planned to award this overlong nonsense - but instead of getting straight to the action, half of the book is wasted on Stephanie crying 'Why meeeeeeee?' in her room. 'Black Maggie', some sort of ancient spirit that demands sacrifices, possesses everyone who moves into the house and turns them into soulless killers, including of course Thing 1 and Thing 2. They offer Stephanie up to the evil in the house, but she survives, physically at least, and goes on to make a mint from her experience.

The last part of the book, set three years later when Stephanie has changed her name and her personality but still thinks she's hard done by, is an awkward block of exposition that would have been better woven into the rest of the story. I was waiting for the history behind the house and the victims but was bored with reading the reveal in a dry block of names and dates after the fact.

Well played, Mr Nevill - you tried to turn my reading slump into a DNF depression, but I survived! show less