Gone to See the River Man

In the interests of full disclosure, I went into this not fully knowing what to expect. I haven't read that much in the way of extreme horror/splatterpunk. For every Woom or The Girl Next Door, there's a greater number of works in which the author seems to settle for slapping together a bunch of gore-strewn scenes, lurching from one atrocity to the next, mistakenly trying their best to gross out the reader and foregoing the telling of an actual story. I don't shy away from gore, but I like something concrete to hold it all together.

Which brings me to Gone to See the River Man.

It's my first time reading Kristopher Triana, and, holy shit - the man can write! It's extreme horror done right. There's depravity (human depravity, I hasten to show more add), violence, and gore, but there's an actual solid story in there, too. Triana's prose is nothing short of poetic, a thing of beauty that allows the reader to be transported, to feel, smell, taste the surroundings that he conjures. While reading, I could almost hear some swampy, Delta blues soundtrack scratching away in my head as an accompaniment to the visuals. Yes, Gone to See the River Man is grimy, it's dark, and it's at times uncomfortable. But the way the story flows, pitching the reader into a slow descent into Hell, had me hooked to a point where it felt like the book was glued into my hands.

Bring on the next one! show less

3.5 stars rounded up to 4 because Lori is an impressively unreliable narrator.

If the author wasn't known for his splatter horror, I would have read River Man the way that I read so many violent, quirky books with tongue firmly in cheek. Reading it so closely after Lapvona I was very tempted to do so.

But Triana's catalog doesn't seem to go that way. He writes extreme horror. He does it with a smile for a specific audience. For some, it's fun! And I get it. Generally, I don't enjoy extreme horror, but I get why others like it, in the same way that people enjoy borderline porn romance or hard sci-fi.

Everything here is southern rural horror. The backdrop is surreal and seems to belong solely to Lori. She imagines her life as different from show more what is possible. She has done horrible things.

The book was not as blood and guts as I thought it would be. The horror at the end of the trip was ridiculous, so unless she was tripping, which she might have been, it bordered on funny for all the wrong reasons. The ending was a bit less ridiculous, except that I'm not sure if it was real. The thing with Niko was bizarre, and it played out exactly as Lori wanted it to, despite her protestations. Even Lori's protestations were part of the fantasy in her head.

She was over-the-top insane. I'm not sure that Triana wanted River Man to read like an over-the-top The Turn of the Screw, but that's what he got from me. show less

Disturbing and extremely messed up, this book is extreme horror. I do not recommend it to anyone with a weak stomach, and anyone who is not able to handle messed up topics, however, it did have me hooked.
Gone to See the River Man, is a book written from the perspective of one of the most messed up, screwed-up protagonists I’ve ever read (though I do not read this genre of extreme horror particularly often, so I cannot vouch if this is a more extreme example for this genre). The protagonist has a disabled sister that she does awful things to, and a brother that she directly caused the death of. She is disgusting, and vile, but THAT is what hooks you in.
I will warn you before you read this book, I felt like I was going to throw up show more almost the entire time I was reading it. It is not for the faint of heart, and I don’t think I will be reading anything like it particularly soon. show less

Never heard of Kristopher Triana before but I am seriously impressed by this novel. The story concerns a woman trying to prove her loyalty to the incarcerated serial killer she's obsessed with. He dispatches her on a quest to deliver a key to a mysterious figure from his past he only knows as The River Man. The protagonist has no time to find a minder for the older sister she cares for, so brings her on a trek up a treacherously forested river into a supernatural landscape of despair and self-inflicted tragedy.

Triana is very good as every aspect of his storytelling, from his gruesome descriptions of the horrific steps the protagonist takes to bring some meaning to her life, to his canny grasp of the psychology behind such choices. The show more is the kind of grimy, savage fiction mainstream publishing doesn't attempt very often anymore, exactly the kind I like. show less

Surprisingly beautiful language and probably the best written tension I’ve seen in a while. Had me gagging on the train ride home

If you're looking for visceral, perhaps nausea-inducing horror, this will suit you just fine. Lori is a serial killer groupie--and she will do anything to impress Edward, including retrieving a key from an isolated shack on a river. As the book proceeds, alternating between the present and flashbacks, we come to see why Lori may be a good match for Edward. But this is not a horrifying book--just a book full of horrors. The author keeps the story moving along, and it is about the right length. The ending is appropriate. But the implausibilities, such as a convicted serial killer being allowed to send the letters quoted in the book, without them being almost totally censored, strains credulity.

Wow, what a selfish cunt.

I anticipated the twist beforehand, but the fact that I kept picking up and dropping the book made all its details turn my stomach into knots. It's as what people say in that it backdrops a nice albeit idiosyncratic character into an absolute monster.

I truly wonder why Laurie grew so committed in seeing the River Man. She has an "uh-huh" moment about Edmund halfway through that somehow only made her want to stay more. It's bizarre. The most Laurie had to show of her affection was a bunch of penpal letters, which, might I add, she swore up-and-down was merely for "curiosity." There's a very wide difference between who Laurie and Edmund are as people and their life stories would make for a terrible first show more date.

Speaking of childhood, the flashbacks are the greatest parts of this book, developing both Laurie and Abby's character exceptionally well! It's where the twist is and the set up is truly gut-wrenching. But, still, what happens in the present comes off as contrived. It takes very special people to do evil things and I don't believe the story could sell the idea that *anyone* could do evil enough. Sure, everyone has skeletons in their closet, but it takes A LOT before people get that bad.

I wish the book was more human. I enjoy viewing Sadism and how people get to those states, but there are degrees by which this takes place and I feel like I'm missing it here. The book's explanations for the characters' Sadistic acts felt superficial, even if well-worded. I want to be mired in woe before I accept a person's actions, but here, it's like watching "The Good Son" where the motivation is that they're just a really bad fucking kid. And I'm suppose to expect that from a real person? No thanks. show less