This book was so good. Right off the top, if you like weird horror and experimental, boundary-pushing fiction then you should just go read this right now. I guarantee that Crom Cruach can offer you something unusual, thought-provoking, and worthwhile. But I've already read this twice, and I've had a lot of time to think about it since, so here comes a longer review.

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This novella reads very quickly. It's short to begin with, and the verse form makes it fly past. Not only are there fewer words on a page than there might be if it were written in prose, but I found the flow of the prose really pulled me along. The writing is fluid and engrossing. The result being that Crom Cruach can essentially be read in a single sitting—for  maximum thrilling effect I recommend reading it overnight in the dark. Even if you don't read it in one go though, the novella's divided into three parts (as well as a short interlude) which offer nice natural breaks.

The verse form also makes for a very affecting tone. Throughout, the writing is evocative and portentous, and complements the horror of the story well. Like many of the best horror stories, Crom Cruach blends supernatural horror with the everyday horrors of (in this case) colonialism, bigotry, religious persecution, fascism, and more. Prose can have a tendency to make the metaphorical renderings of these real social horrors seem especially clumsy. There's a tendency to draw connections too explicitly, resulting in the novel equivalent of a movie monster that is very obviously a person in a rubber suit. Not necessarily a terrible thing, but sometimes a little damaging to the overall experience. Verse, however, excels where metaphor is involved. The structure of the novella makes it feel absolutely uncomfortably natural that

neo-nazi cults and avenging archangels

could be stalking the night together, bringing violence and persecution, death and undeath. If anything, this tone sells the themes of the novella better than anything else. It might be easy to trivialise atrocities like colonialism and religious persecution by lining them up them alongside hauntings and the living dead, but Loughcrewe wields metaphor well. The ultimate effect is a strengthening of the novella's themes, and a more powerful impact to its most important moments.

I won't post any details, even behind a spoiler warning—just go read it, it's very short—but the final scene of the novella is especially powerful. Moving, tense, unpleasant, cathartic, the kind of thing that makes you want to jump up and yell and shout at the sky and shake the world by the shoulders! A real triumph of horror writing.

Lastly, while it's not necessary for an enjoyment of or understanding of (much of) the story, I'd recommend pairing Crom Cruach with some general reading. The Crom Cruach Wikipedia page[^1] is some convenient background if you've never heard of the deity before, but I found a study linked there called "The Plain of Blood"[^2] to be especially interesting reading and a lot more in-depth background. I read these, and several other articles on the history of Ireland and the various religious figures mentioned, in-between my two reads of Crom Cruach. As someone without much more than a surface-level understanding of the history here, it really enriched my second read through.

[^1]: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crom_Cruach
[^2]: http://www.templeport.ie/magh-slecht-dara-fort/plain-of-blood.pdf