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A review by beaconatnight
Someone You Can Build a Nest In by John Wiswell
4.0
"Romance was awful. She couldn't even do something as simple as murdering rude people anymore."
The region around the town of Underlook is haunted by a monster. At least that's what the locals believe. Its most powerful family, Baroness Wulfyre and her children, even thinks it's cursed and that the monster is after their lives. To turn the tables, they are determined to hunt it down.
If the story was told from the Wulfyres' point of view it would probably be in the air whether there really was a monster. But from the very beginning we as readers know there is a monster. Don't misconstrue the marketing—when the predator goes out to appease her hunger there is nothing lovely about her. The novel opens when Catharsis Wulfyre and his two hired monster hunters invade her home, and she deals with the situation ruthlessly.
What makes the narrative immediately stand out is that we follow this killer from the close third-person perspective where we learn about her thoughts and emotions. That is to say, Shesheshen (the name by which she refers to herself) is a self-conscious being that is mentally not too unlike what makes humans tick.
In fact, this is the essence of her greatest survival strategy. Initially, she might be an amorphous lump (as the book's publisher puts it); but after she devoured her prey, she can take up the bones and organs to shape them into something resembling human. With the throat in place she can even speak, although she really doesn't like to.
Naturally, there is more to being human than the perfectly convincing façade. What is most surprising (at least to herself), it turns out Shesheshen is receptive to kindness. After a series of unfortunate events, she is nursed back to health by a most likable woman called Homily. It leaves her reluctant to kill and absorb her, which is already saying a lot! As the romance develops, Shesheshen learns about the intricacies and nuances of the condition humaine as prerequisite to keep her friend safe.
For us socially awkward readers it's easy to sympathize with a protagonist that struggles to behave or even recognize what would be the "normal" things to do. I'm sure Shesheshen has has been compared to Martha Wells's Murderbot. But the bizarre nature of her relationship to Homily is particularly enticing. It's recognizably love, even in its most disturbing qualities. Like when she is affectionately thinking of how she would turn Homily into a nest to put her eggs hin. Yikes!
What makes the relationship even more unique is that it's mutually rewarding. There are things that humans do—that humans expect other humans do and enjoy—she cannot bring herself to do. What makes their love believable and special is that Homily shares the sentiments. It's not what they do with each other that brings them closer together; they bond over the things they agree they wouldn't do.
The romance is only one aspect of the overall narrative. The fast-paced and action-packed plot is told in often short and very on-point chapters that are fully focused on the Wulfyre family. It might not come as a big surprise that Homily too is one of the Baroness's daughters, though I highly enjoyed how the foreshadowed twist ties into Homily's quest to hunt for the monster, too.
To be honest, in my mind the latter half of the story played out like an unusually dark Disney animation. The Baroness and her other children are unambiguously mean and they serve their clearly defined purpose. What kept me fully captivated, though, were Homily's shifting loyalties. Admittedly, I think I would have liked a bit more depth to the relationships between the members of the family, but I'm sure the intention was to purge the story from everything that would weigh down the fun or distract from the romance. Great fun it certainly was.
Someone You Can Build a Nest In is horror pounding with heart.
Rating: 4/5
The region around the town of Underlook is haunted by a monster. At least that's what the locals believe. Its most powerful family, Baroness Wulfyre and her children, even thinks it's cursed and that the monster is after their lives. To turn the tables, they are determined to hunt it down.
If the story was told from the Wulfyres' point of view it would probably be in the air whether there really was a monster. But from the very beginning we as readers know there is a monster. Don't misconstrue the marketing—when the predator goes out to appease her hunger there is nothing lovely about her. The novel opens when Catharsis Wulfyre and his two hired monster hunters invade her home, and she deals with the situation ruthlessly.
What makes the narrative immediately stand out is that we follow this killer from the close third-person perspective where we learn about her thoughts and emotions. That is to say, Shesheshen (the name by which she refers to herself) is a self-conscious being that is mentally not too unlike what makes humans tick.
In fact, this is the essence of her greatest survival strategy. Initially, she might be an amorphous lump (as the book's publisher puts it); but after she devoured her prey, she can take up the bones and organs to shape them into something resembling human. With the throat in place she can even speak, although she really doesn't like to.
Naturally, there is more to being human than the perfectly convincing façade. What is most surprising (at least to herself), it turns out Shesheshen is receptive to kindness. After a series of unfortunate events, she is nursed back to health by a most likable woman called Homily. It leaves her reluctant to kill and absorb her, which is already saying a lot! As the romance develops, Shesheshen learns about the intricacies and nuances of the condition humaine as prerequisite to keep her friend safe.
For us socially awkward readers it's easy to sympathize with a protagonist that struggles to behave or even recognize what would be the "normal" things to do. I'm sure Shesheshen has has been compared to Martha Wells's Murderbot. But the bizarre nature of her relationship to Homily is particularly enticing. It's recognizably love, even in its most disturbing qualities. Like when she is affectionately thinking of how she would turn Homily into a nest to put her eggs hin. Yikes!
What makes the relationship even more unique is that it's mutually rewarding. There are things that humans do—that humans expect other humans do and enjoy—she cannot bring herself to do. What makes their love believable and special is that Homily shares the sentiments. It's not what they do with each other that brings them closer together; they bond over the things they agree they wouldn't do.
The romance is only one aspect of the overall narrative. The fast-paced and action-packed plot is told in often short and very on-point chapters that are fully focused on the Wulfyre family. It might not come as a big surprise that Homily too is one of the Baroness's daughters, though I highly enjoyed how the foreshadowed twist ties into Homily's quest to hunt for the monster, too.
To be honest, in my mind the latter half of the story played out like an unusually dark Disney animation. The Baroness and her other children are unambiguously mean and they serve their clearly defined purpose. What kept me fully captivated, though, were Homily's shifting loyalties. Admittedly, I think I would have liked a bit more depth to the relationships between the members of the family, but I'm sure the intention was to purge the story from everything that would weigh down the fun or distract from the romance. Great fun it certainly was.
Someone You Can Build a Nest In is horror pounding with heart.
Rating: 4/5