Craig Dilouie

In an alternate 1980s America, a sexually transmitted teratogenic plague has created a generation of children with various inhuman characteristics, from treelike limbs to reversed faces to animal hybrid appearances. America decided the best thing to do was put all such “monsters” into Homes (and to make abortion a sacrament for infected people). The Homes are pretty much as bad as you’d expect they’d be, while many “normal” people resent the free food and education the residents show more are supposedly getting. In a small southern town, the budding morality and sexuality of a group of non-plague (or are they?) kids intersects with the increasing maturity and powers of a few plague kids, with results made tragic by the misbehavior of adults. On the one hand, the book moved at a good clip and had a complex view of how individually bad choices, or even good choices, created terrible structures and how hard it was to fight that with individual good choices. On the other, even though a number of POV characters were female (just not the real heroes: only the commentators and helpmeets, not to mention a girl with what is practically a vagina dentata), I realized how tired I am of books like this by dudes. Setting the book in 1984 made it easier to rationalize just how deferential the girls were to the boys and how much they defined themselves by male reaction to them (see also: a ton of overt racism, expressed mostly by unsympathetic characters), but it’s not what I want to be reading and not even what I expect most girls’ interior lives were like then. I was a weird kid, but I know mine definitely wasn’t, and I’d have been within a couple of years of these characters. show less

This was something right up the "ghost story junkie's" alley...a haunted house story recommended by a good friend who I'm sure must eat ghost stories for three meals a day and a snack:) I had never read anything by this author, but I will be finding more. From the very first...I was hooked. The house was playing games. At first, it was little things, like objects being moved, electrical fluctuations, and other anomalies. Soon though, the residents discover the house has a lot more planned show more for them, and its powers are beyond anything they can, or could ever imagine. I wouldn’t say this book scared me, I've read to many ghost and haunted house stories to be very scared, but it had its moments that could produce a good case of goosebumps. Mostly its strengths are in the atmosphere of the story. I couldn't stop reading...I simply devoured it because the entire thing was simply...addictive. Things moved...no pun intended... at a quick pace and there were never any slowdowns. Episode Thirteen was a lot like Shirly Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. You knew that something was in the house that had taken up residence and had no desires or expectations of leaving. It was a fun story if you are a ghost story enthusiast...a gripping read that will absolutely leave a lasting impression. Craig Delouie has masterfully built an atmosphere of dread and unease from page one but also develops the characters into fully fleshed and relatable figures that you just want to help or at least warn. If you are also a "ghost story junkie" and you love ghost and haunted house stories...and don't mind looking over your shoulder a few hundred times while reading...then I highly recommend this one. show less

4 & 1/2 STARS

I received this novel from Orbit Books through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks to both of them for this opportunity.

One of Us is a classic example of a book that should not be judged by its cover, even though I initially was guilty of this very mistake: when looking at this title on the Orbit newsletter, the cover appeared so bland to my eyes that I was not even tempted to read the book’s synopsis. My bad. Luckily for me, some of my fellow book bloggers show more possess a more open mind and a keener curiosity, and through their reviews I learned that I was missing out on a very intriguing story, so I rushed to correct my error.

I knew, going in, that I would find myself in the midst of a dark, harsh tale, one that would push several of my buttons, but when all is said and done I don’t regret having read it despite the anguish and rage and frustration that it engendered: this novel is like a mirror into mankind’s soul, and once we look at ourselves through it, what stares back at us is something we should try to grow up from if we want to keep calling ourselves ‘human’.

The story is set in an alternate 1984 (a curiously apt choice at that…): fourteen years before a teratogenic virus spread all over the world causing the birth of mutated babies, and while many did not survive long after birth, a good number of them made it through. Rejected by their families, they were confined in the Homes, virtual prisons where the “monsters” would grow up out of sight and out of mind, while the world community, in a rush of puritanical zeal, implemented a strict regime of screening and control on sexual intercourse, especially where young people were concerned, to avoid further spreading of the plague.

In the rural community of Huntsville, Georgia, one of the Homes lies on the outskirts of town, the kids it holds employed as cheap labor in the surrounding farms, while their scant education is geared toward destroying their sense of worth and implementing blind obedience: the “plague children”, as they are called, are nothing but slaves, living in squalid conditions that would make Dickensian tales pale in comparison, most of their “teachers” little better than the dregs of society, taking on the job for lack of worthier opportunities. Yet something is changing, because with the onset of puberty many of the Home’s inmates start showing peculiar abilities, like reading or influencing minds, starting fires, flying, and so forth; a few of them are spirited away in secret installations where they are employed by the military or the intelligence services, but the rest of them, on the advice of Brain, try to keep their powers hidden. Brain is one of the more feral looking children of the Huntsville home, and the one who possesses the keener intellect: the acute awareness he was born with made him understand that one day the showdown between the “normals” and the “monsters” would come, and he wants them to be ready to fight back – for themselves and their right to exist. Once the conflict does erupt, the fury and resentment that have been long simmering under the surface – on both sides – flare up into a bloody climax fueled by mindless violence and carnage of apocalyptic proportions.

The first question that comes to mind while reading One of Us is the one about the definition of ‘monster’: does being born with a dog’s head and paws, or an upside-down face, or looking like a cross between a lion and a gorilla make you a monster? Or should the label apply to those who confine these hapless creatures into internment camps, literally (and gleefully) torturing them for the slightest deviation from the imposed discipline? Humanity does not show its best in the sliver of society represented by the Huntsville community, one where the fear and loathing for the plague children comes out of the kind of blind ignorance that is proud of itself, which refuses even to consider an alternative to the illiterate narrow-mindedness that many wear like a badge of honor.

I was deeply distressed while reading about the children’s treatment in the Home, where constant abuse, filthy living conditions and abominable food were everyday occurrences, to the point that when one of them is incarcerated on a false accusation, he considers the jail cell – with its bare-bones cot and waste disposal facility – like an unhoped-for luxury: that simple thought, one that does not even touch upon the fact that the boy is being unjustly held, was both chilling and heartbreaking, moving me to unexpected tears. That’s why I felt even more profoundly the anger that possessed me once the false premise of wrongdoing by one of the plague children drives the oh-so-good, law-abiding citizens of Huntsville toward a hate-fueled pogrom. By that point, all concepts of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ fly out of the window, with acts of cruelty (and a few exceptions of mercy) being performed by citizens and children alike.

The reason this story can hit so close to home comes from the realization that humankind can be cruel toward those it perceives as ‘different’, and it becomes even more so when its own well-being is threatened in some way, be it physical or economical: that’s the moment when the need for a scapegoat becomes undeniable, when the compulsion to heap the mounting frustration on the nearest available target reduces our better angels to silence. The fact that this novel is set in our past – or an alternative version of it – does not make it any less actual, or help us dismiss the story as simple fiction, because we only need to turn to any news channel to see a version of it play out under our eyes.

As I said, One of Us is a dark, brutal read that might not be for everyone, but still I would recommend it, if nothing else because of its ability to make us think, to take a good look at ourselves and wonder if we can do better, or if we want to. My only complaint with the book comes from the ending that seems to be fizzling out somewhat after the huge, well-crafted buildup: but it’s a minor complaint indeed, considering that this story will remain with me for a long, long time….



Originally posted at SPACE and SORCERY BLOG show less

Ghost hunting goes wrong, okay. This book started off great and continued that way mostly throughout, lots of action and some very chilling moments. I enjoyed the last part a bit less, as it felt like Claire’s ending—disintegrating, ascending, whatever—went on a bit long and got too philosophical for the tone of the rest of the book. (In a way, though, it sort of reminded me of the ending of Neon Genesis Evangelion.) Oh, well; Jessica’s final scream made up for it in terms of a show more fitting end. show less