The Baroness, an infamous exploitation film long thought destroyed by Nazi fire, is discovered fifty years later. When lonely archivist Ellen Kramer—deeply closeted and pathologically repressed—begins restoring the hedonistic movie, it unspools dark desires from deep within her.
As Ellen is consumed by visions and voices, she becomes convinced the movie is real, and is happening to her—and that frame by frame, she is unleashing its occult horrors on the world. Her life quickly begins to spiral out of control.
Until it all fades to black, and all that remains is a voice asking a question Ellen can’t answer but can’t get out of her mind.
GRETCHEN FELKER-MARTIN is a Massachusetts-based horror author and film critic. Her debut novel, Manhunt, was named the #1 Best Book of 2022 by Vulture, and one of the Best Horror Novels of 2022 by Esquire, Library Journal, and Paste. You can follow her work on Twitter and read her fiction and film criticism on Patreon and in TIME, The Outline, Nylon, Polygon, and more.
Black Flame is this genre at it's best, forcing us to confront the horrors of humanity through an elegantly written, deeply visceral and haunting story. That it takes a horror-filled exploitation film for Ellen Kramer, the protagonist, to confront all the ways in which she represses her desires and the essence of who she is, speaks to how tightly wound she is. The writing is atmospheric and claustrophobic. Every cold gust, every damp woolen moment, every pus-oozing wound, bring incredible dimension to the story. Despite the horrors conveyed in the story, it never lets us forget what the real horrors are—genocide, oppression, compulsory heterosexuality. Felker-Martin is all hits no skips, yet again.
"Nasty, erotic, kinky, vicious, suspenseful: these are just a few words that come to mind when reading BLACK FLAME. Gretchen Felker-Martin uses the trope of the cursed movie and creates something utterly unique that manages to horrify, beguile, and empower in equal measure. If you are going to read one horror novella this year, make it this one."
I thought the author had written this book just for me when I read the synopsis. I am an absolute sucker for books about haunted movies and this sound perfect: a film archivist working at a newly disgraced studio is forced to work on a thought-lost German film filled with cult-like, obscene behavior. Is Ellen losing herself to the film or is it opening her up to becoming her real self?
I thought the book had real promise but, ultimately, there were too many gaps in the story for me. Felker-Martin does a good job describing the film itself, but I was never clear on the reason the second version (not a spoiler) was significant, nor what infected it. So, some good stuff, but it just didn’t get there for me. And Ellen was so very weak. I had a hard time relating to her. I would read the author again, though, as I liked her style.
this was quite the read, and i mean that in the best possible way. follows ellen, jewish and queer, and their struggles with while they work on restoring a lost film discovered in the house of a queer nazi. i understand that’s a bit of a mouthful but tbh it was a great book. lots of political commentary mixed with horror, and im always a fan of gore and some scenes were just disgusting. i really felt the ending was perfect for the story that was told. check the triggers for sure before reading :)
This book is 5 stars as a cursed film horror novel but it is also 5 stars in how it depicts what it would feel like to be deeply closeted and unable to escape-- unable both because she feels trapped by her family to be straight but also psychologically as she is unable to understand her own feelings.
I am a straight cis woman, but I FELT, literally felt, all of the emotions Ellen was struggling with-- fear, anger, desire, pain.... That is the sign of a great book, if the reader can feel the intense emotions.
This is one of the epigraphs for the novel and I may never have read a more perfect epigraph.
"Sometimes watching a movie is a bit like being raped. —Luis Buñuel, My Last Sigh"
To say more than that is to give spoilers but wow is that great.
Also, the film is called Black Flame as well.
Short on pages-- but honestly, it is the perfect length. I never thought it needed more. You can read it in 1 or 2 sittings. Fewer sittings the better, so you can get caught up in the psychological horror.
This is a nasty, viscious, and erotic story-- both are high praise. Not visceral in the traditional grey horror sense-- but in the literal sense of the world. I think nasty and vicious and erotic are better than visceral here. They are more accurately descriptive.
As cursed media film go-- this is also intense. An exploitative film filled with sex and murder and just over the top, made by a Jewish auteur just before he and most of the people in the film were sent to the camps by Nazi's.
The setting -- 1985 NYC with a family of wealthy Jews, who while not super religious are in America because the family matriarch-- Ellen's grandmother-- is a Holocaust survivor. I was about 15 years younger than Ellen is in the story in 1985, but boy did Felker-Martin capture my family. Thankfully, not the homophobia as we have out family members who are accepted, but the obsession with keeping up those the upper class NYC appearances and the obsession with being thin and the family dynamics.
This book will attack you-- the reader. And that is 100% NOT an exaggeration. Again- immersive-- be ready to be subsumed in the world of Black Flame-- the book and the movie.
Just read it and let Felker-Martin tell you this story. I promise you, if you like horror, especially cursed media stories, you will love the journey.
Readalikes-- Night Film by Pessl, Horror Movie by Tremblay, and Silver Nitrate by Moreno-Garcia but not just because all three are cursed film novels. There are things about each that will ring true but also The Drowning Girl by Kiernan-- a classic!
What a festering triumph! This novella shows a continued growth in Gretchen Felker-Martin’s writing, with a profoundly sympathetic main character, tense and genuine world-building, and a feverish atmosphere that is punctuated by moments of unflinching violence. It feels like a combination of Gemma File’s Experimental Film and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Silver Nitrate, only combined with Felker-Martin’s sensibilities of graphic rage and justice. The writing really does shine, leading us into an uncontrolled nightmare that keeps you looking over your shoulder. The graphic sex and violence of both Manhunt and Cuckoo are here in this book, but here the rage feels like it is simmering under the surface, and Felker-Martin hasn’t reined it in as much as she has been more deliberate with where and how it explodes onto the page.
The story pulls you in right away, and once you’re lost in its grasping claws it doesn’t let you go. The writing only follows a single character, which makes the story feel more narratively restrained than her previous two novels, and it is better for it. We are able to really get lost in (and with) that character, grow with them, feeling their pains and triumphs, and it makes the story a lot more impactful. This isn’t story just about finding yourself, it is about reclaiming yourself, reclaiming your history and your desires and your right to occupy space. The intersection of queer and Jewish identities, and the ways in which the violence of the Holocaust is continually experienced by those communities, even four decades after the end of the war, is the unsettled heart of this story, and the narrative crafted around it explores the many permutations of that violence, especially as it collides with classicism, misogyny, patriarchy, homophobia, and more. Maybe most importantly, this story is heartfelt, with a genuine emotional center that cradles its main character, as confused and acted upon as they are, with warmth and concern.
As usual Felker-Martin doesn’t feel like she is pulling any of her punches, she wants the reader to feel this story. Yet in some ways it is much more ephemeral than her previous novels, playing with ideas of the occult and the unknown in ways that force the characters (and readers) to question their sense of self as well as their sense of reality. It does lean heavily on fevered-nightmare aesthetics, that frenzied insomnia where it is hard to hold too tightly to anything that might offer explicit answers. This is done really well, with enough narrative momentum to always keep the reader interested and wanting more, with a resolution that is both satisfying and earned while also not afraid of some ambiguity. I really appreciate the length, it is more than enough to get lost in and every page matters, but it never feels like it gets lost or is wallowing in any scene or moment longer than necessary. This is especially important because of the general fugue-like atmosphere and the sense of unknowing that pervades the story, it would be easy to give in to that. Instead, she cuts through it with well-placed moments of bitingly graphic imagery, both violent and sexual in nature, never feeling tawdry or done for shock value but to add a feral tangibility to the text.
I really enjoyed this novella. It feels like an evolution in her writing that doesn’t sacrifice its edge but is able to grow and expand while also be more focused and intentional. It makes me even more excited to continue reading her than I was before, to see what heartfelt dark horrors she has in store.
Oof. Okay. Well, I got an ARC from my bookstore, they give out free ARCs on indie bookstore day in a blind date with a book style. This was mine this year! I was excited about it, it sounded neat! I was less excited when I noted the author, because Manhunt was not intriguing to me at all, but I kept an open mind. I do, however, think me and this author are not a good match.
I am fine with horror, I am fine with being uncomfortable, I am fine with most sensitive topics. This book just didn't really DO anything with any of that. These things were just there. A set dressing. For what? I love a good unrelatable narrator, an absolute mess of a main character, but Ellen was NOT it. The plot was all over the place. There were two hundred pages, so how many scenes of people touching themselves while watching a movie did we really need? Couldn't we have used some of those two hundred pages to leave more breadcrumbs about Ellens decision in the end, other than one line of "I've been thinking about this a lot" that has NO textual evidence to back it up? Appears not.
And Ellen's dad? Hello? What was the point there? "I'm sorry I couldn't do this alone" and he just LIGHTS HIMSELF ON FIRE? FOR WHAT?? We're supposed to believe the film made him do it?? Makes no sense.
This read like Stephen King, and I know a lot of people will take that as a compliment, but I assure you It Is Not. Stephen King is baby horror. The horror you pick up because it's what everyone says to try. It's your toe dipping int the genre, and you think wow! This is neat! So you branch out. Find ore horror. Discover SK is actually mediocre at best. The one good thing here is we only have two hundred pages to get through and not one thousand.
I will say, there was a line that I loved a lot at the very end That hit good. But it wasn't enough to save this book for me. I will not be returning to GFM's works unfortunately, and I'll pass this on to someone who will appreciate it better.
This book is trying to make me uncomfortable and succeeding.
Ellen is a giant ball of repression collecting internalized isms and phobias like they’re Pokémon cards. She switches pretty rapidly between being unlikable/pathetic and incredibly sympathetic because she really is going through the wringer over there. The writing style is pretty all over the place and takes a minute to get situated, but it fits pretty well with Ellen’s overall mental state. She is constantly switching between reality and the horrifying fever dream; I found it kind of hard to keep up with at times, but I think that was the intention.
The horror aspect was incredibly dark and disturbing which yknow in a horror book is a plus. I like that it managed to be this horrifyingly violent, gorey, horny nightmare while also being used as a vehicle to communicate some very deep messages.
Ultimately, I think the issue lies more in me than the book. I recognize it has a lot of good going for it and respect that, but I had a difficult time getting invested in the plot because I kept getting confused by the narration. Definitely a check the content warnings situation because while I can read pages upon pages of people being flayed alive and disemboweled I got extremely squicked out by just how much time we spent talking about bathrooms or peeing.
This is a shocking, dark, gory read. And that cover. . .it's just so good!
Ellen is at a very rough part in life. No longer questioning sexuality because straight is the only answer, and plugging along in a job that keeps a roof over the head and is somewhat satisfying. But when an old film is seized from a man believed to have been a Nazi who stole movies and other Jewish art and expression, Ellen's company receives the old film to try to restore. The movie Ellen slowly reveals, with each cleaning and splicing of film, rocks Ellen to the core.
This book was very tough, to start. It really feels fever dream-ish and their are some really tough, gross moments. But, near the end, I was so sucked into the story that I got a little teary-eyed at the strength and love in the end. This one really does tackle some highly sensitive subjects so tread lightly, check out that trigger warning - and, as always, be gentle with yourself.
our foremost provocateur gives us the ultimate in terror: a KILLER CLOSET. oh brother... goofy pastiche in flimsy period dress, i'm not going to cinemasins every headscratcher but the dense detail doesn't pass muster at all when you zoom out a little. it's like painting with jeweler's glasses on, a confused pile of namedrops and references and nods. it's phony! "modern conservatives didn't make movies. they didn't care about movies." — in sly stallone's 80s? john milius's 1980s? paul kersey's 1985? Even read as schlock this doesnt muster the raw sex terror of a really deranged ramsey campbell. One sequence, when the main character falls into the memories of a weimar era gay filmmaker, breaks unexpectedly into an agile, vivid montage of apocalyptic desire... and then back into the mire... the soup... the molasses. maybe shes better the further away she gets from the present day. i read gretchen's stuff because she has talent, if not taste… but if u wanna do pastiche they’re maybe equally important. she's settling for the level of her teammates at tor nightfire rather than towering above them. The league needs you to stop settling!!!
Here’s the thing, when it comes to sex in horror novels, there’s a close line where they don’t belong together for me. Sex is fine… no problem. The way it is a big deal in the book just didn’t work for me in a terrorizing way. I tried. I’m obviously not the right reader.
Another masterpiece from Gretchen Felker-Martin that I will spend the rest of my lifetime thinking about. I devoured this in one day. Full review coming soon.
Full Review:
Thank you NetGalley and Tor Publishing Group for the opportunity to read this ARC!
This book follows Ellen, a closeted lesbian, who is tasked with restoring a film many believed to be lost during the Holocaust. She quickly becomes obsessed and chaos ensues.
Gretchen Felker-Martin’s writing is aggressively engaging. She takes you by the throat and throws you so deeply into the story that it’s all you can think about. I devoured this in one day, desperately needing to know the end.
With themes of sexual repression and antisemitism, this book excels at paralleling occult horror with the horrors of reality. That being said, please check trigger warnings before you read as the material is HEAVY.
Just like Manhunt, I know I’m going to find myself coming back to this book. Anyone who has spent 5 minutes talking to me about books knows that I love Gretchen Felker-Martin. This piece is just another reason she is on my “auto-buy author” list.
I am having trouble deciding where to start with this one, because there are a lot of different ideas packed into these scant pages! I absolutely felt a connection to Ellen, our main character, from the start. You can tell she's struggling, trying to be what her family wants her to be (a straight cis woman who "settles down" and starts a family) and how fundamentally un-Ellen that is. This story is set in 1985, and Ellen's Jewish family includes her grandmother, who is a Holocaust survivor. This comes into play during the story, especially as the film Ellen is tasked to restore is thought to have been stolen by a Nazi who was trying to destroy any Jewish art.
The movie itself is incredibly messed up, and Ellen finds herself completely wrapped up in its restoration. Through work, she also finds herself having to face the sexuality she's been trying to tamp down as she's told to bring in a woman who runs in the same circles as her college lover, who she's clearly never gotten over. It's a lot for Ellen, trying to navigate between her job, her identity, her relationships, her family dynamics (messy, very messy), and this film that is messing with her mind on many levels. She finds herself in the movie at times, which for me was a little confusing at times, but I also think perhaps that is intentional (Ellen certainly would have found such a thing confusing and jarring, after all).
Bottom Line:
It's the messed up, gory horror with great societal commentary the author is known for, but with an added bonus of some really great character development.
You know a book is gonna be good when the epigraph has a Clive Barker quote.
Black Flame is this twisted, kinky, horrific love child of horror and exploitation films while simultaneously setting about the task of being a cutting and timely commentary on hypocrisy within the Jewish community. What I love about Gretchen Felker-Martin’s writing is how she’s absolutely willing to go places other writers would flinch away from, whether it be harvesting the testicles of feral men in Manhunt or having a fictional version of Strom Thurmond in this book (which made me laugh so hard, you don’t even know).
This book is dark, unnerving, and definitely has a lot of trigger warning material. If you’re a sensitive reader at all you’ll want to look up warnings for this book. For me, all of those nasty, terrible things make books like these even more interesting to read. Horror novels give us a chance to examine the horrors of society through the lens of fictional means. Here, the horror is hypocrisy and how many people your hypocrisy hurts. It turns out hypocrisy can be absolutely catastrophic. 4⭐️
I was provided a copy of this title by the author and publisher via Netgalley. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. Thank you.
File Under: Body Horror/Historical Horror/Horror/LGBTQ Horror/Occult Horror/Religious Horror
Black Flame is not just a horror novel, it’s a descent into madness, identity, and cinematic dread that transcends the boundary between fiction and reality. Gretchen Felker-Martin continues to cement their status as one of the most vital voices in contemporary horror, delivering a story that is deeply disturbing, richly thematic, and undeniably brilliant.
At the core is Ellen, a film restorationist assigned to a long-lost, ultra-graphic cult film. But as frames are meticulously restored, reality begins to distort. Thus blurring the line between nightmare and lived experience. The deeper Ellen digs, the more unraveling occurs, not just externally, but internally. Her journey is one of delayed identity, suppressed trauma, and the raw, unflinching horrors of self-recognition. I saw myself in her; the silence around grief, the breakdowns, the terrifying clarity of truth finally surfacing.
Felker-Martin masterfully fuses perversion, cosmic dread, and queerness into something both grotesque and gorgeously human. This book is dark. It is graphic. And it is relentless. Certain scenes deliver imagery so vivid and visceral that I genuinely avoided reading after dark. I was fully convinced the shadows might birth the Baroness herself, in all her ghastly glory.
Clocking in at just around 200 pages, Black Flame moves fast. It wastes no time unleashing its horrors, and once the blood starts spilling, it does not let up. Despite its brutality, there’s a profound emotional core here—a story about survival, identity, and confronting the monsters within and around us.
If you’re a fan of cursed media stories, cosmic horror, or queer narratives steeped in blood and revelation, this is your next read. Just know what you’re getting into: this one pulls no punches.
For those sensitive to certain content, I highly recommend checking the trigger warnings before diving in!
More Gretchen Felker-Martin for 2025!! I'm excited, nervous and horrified by this cover. I can't wait to dive into this one. Felker-Martin knows how to write EXTREME!!!
I love the idea of cursed media, so when I heard that Gretchen Felker-Martin had written a book about a haunted subversive movie seized by the Nazis, I was very much in. Black Flame is worth a read for fans of queer horror, grimy 1980s New York, and reality-bending narratives. The writing is solid and satisfying in a way that I find a lot of new releases just aren't, these days, and propulsive enough that you could easily while away a single afternoon lost in the story. My one complaint is that there is a mean-spirited lack of restraint in certain scenes; however, this is present in all of Felker-Martin's writing, so I don't count it as a flaw so much as a difference in taste.
the absolute definition of "fine." unless felker-martin is describing disgusting shit, the prose is flat and nondescript so, for a novella, it dragggssssss. it's a shame because the cover slays so severely.
Everything Gretchen writes is amazing! The prose sucks in the reader, chews them up, and, if you’re lucky, spits you out…changed by the end of the book.
Wowowowowowowowow. I enjoyed this so much and it got me out of my reading rut. I was consumed at some points and I do wish I’d been able to spend a day to read it in one sitting. I will be reading this one again.
We are so back. Also the Jewish rep is lit. (Also Gretchen is a huge supporter of Palestine & voices her discomfort in this book with queerness, Jewishness and a big fuck you to nazis)
1.5 stars. I saw reviews of this on my goodreads homepage yesterday, and although I've never been a fan of horror, I thought I'd give this one a chance. The concept was so intriguing: the new york city setting, the recovered nazi film that should have burned at Auschwitz, and yet miraculously survived, as well as the lesbian representation.
As fun as the synopsis made the book seem, really all it gave me was a headache and a feeling of...psychosis, for lack of a better word. I felt like I was losing my mind. The writing is atrocious. Felker-Martin writes in incomplete sentences, does not introduce concepts or people or settings, and suddenly we're in a completely different situation than we thought we were. Suddenly the theatre has a dead horse in it, and that horse has a mans laughing face between it's buttocks. Like what? I'm not even kidding, that happened. This felt like a first draft out of ten. A child could write a more coherent story.
Or maybe I'm being too harsh on it, since I'm unfamiliar with horror. If this is the best of the genre though, you'll never catch me reading it again.
Gretchen Felker-Martin's Black Flame emerges as a tour de force of horror fiction that masterfully weaves together the visceral terror of body horror with the psychological devastation of internalized oppression. Following her acclaimed debut Manhunt and sophomore effort Cuckoo, Felker-Martin continues to establish herself as one of contemporary horror's most unflinching voices, crafting narratives that refuse to let readers look away from society's darkest impulses.
Set against the backdrop of 1980s New York, Black Flame follows Ellen Kramer, a film restorer whose discovery of a lost Nazi-era exploitation film becomes a catalyst for unleashing both supernatural horror and deeply buried personal truths. What begins as a professional restoration project evolves into something far more sinister as Ellen becomes convinced that the cursed film is bleeding into reality itself.
The Architecture of Despair
Felker-Martin constructs Ellen's world with meticulous attention to the suffocating nature of closeted existence in Reagan-era America. Ellen's life at the Path Foundation represents more than mere employment; it becomes a metaphor for the preservation of toxic ideologies that should have been left to decay. The author's background in film criticism shines through in her authentic portrayal of archival work, from the technical minutiae of film restoration to the institutional politics that govern such organizations.
The novel's structure mirrors the restoration process itself, with each chapter title reflecting stages of film preservation: "Technical Selection," "The Negative," "Emulsion," "Duplication." This clever organizational framework reinforces the central conceit that Ellen's life is being edited and manipulated by forces beyond her control, much like the cursed film she's restoring.
Ellen's relationship with her family forms another crucial layer of the narrative's horror. Her interactions with her parents, particularly her mother Janet's relentless campaign to force Ellen into heteronormative compliance, create a domestic terror that rivals any supernatural threat. Felker-Martin expertly captures the generational trauma that permeates Jewish-American families still processing the Holocaust's aftermath, while simultaneously exploring how that historical horror intersects with contemporary homophobia.
Celluloid Sorcery and Queer Liberation
The fictional film within the novel, The Baroness, serves as both MacGuffin and metaphor. Directed by the doomed Karla Bartok, this lost work of "degenerate art" becomes a vessel for exploring themes of artistic expression under fascist oppression. Felker-Martin's description of the film's content—featuring transgender performers, graphic sexuality, and occult imagery—deliberately invokes the kind of cinema that the Nazis sought to destroy.
As Ellen becomes increasingly obsessed with the restoration, the boundaries between the film's reality and her own begin to dissolve. The author employs a technique reminiscent of David Cronenberg's body horror, where the medium itself becomes infectious. Film strips burrow through Ellen's flesh, and the characters from The Baroness begin manifesting in her daily life. These supernatural intrusions serve as external manifestations of Ellen's internal struggle with her repressed sexuality and authentic identity.
The transformation sequence, where Ellen ultimately becomes Benjamin, represents one of the most powerful examples of transgender metamorphosis in contemporary horror fiction. Felker-Martin refuses to sanitize this process, instead presenting it as both liberation and apocalypse—a necessary destruction of the old self to birth the new.
Technical Mastery and Narrative Innovation
Felker-Martin's prose style demonstrates remarkable versatility, shifting from clinical descriptions of film restoration techniques to hallucinogenic passages that blur reality and nightmare. Her ability to maintain narrative coherence while depicting Ellen's psychological disintegration showcases sophisticated storytelling craft. The author's use of present tense creates an immediacy that pulls readers directly into Ellen's deteriorating mental state.
The novel's treatment of violence deserves particular attention. While Black Flame contains graphic content that some readers may find disturbing, this violence serves specific narrative purposes rather than existing for shock value alone. The climactic theater sequence, where supernatural entities massacre the film's audience of conservative politicians and donors, functions as both cathartic release and political commentary on the consequences of oppressive ideologies.
Felker-Martin's research into 1980s New York culture, film restoration practices, and Holocaust history provides authentic grounding for the supernatural elements. Her portrayal of Reagan-era homophobia feels historically accurate without becoming heavy-handed, while her depiction of archival work demonstrates genuine understanding of preservation techniques and institutional dynamics.
Strengths and Considerations
Black Flame succeeds brilliantly in several key areas:
Character Development: Ellen's journey from repressed self-hatred to supernatural liberation feels both psychologically credible and mythologically resonant Historical Integration: The novel's incorporation of Holocaust trauma and 1980s political climate creates rich contextual layers Genre Innovation: Felker-Martin successfully merges body horror, occult fiction, and queer liberation narrative into a cohesive whole Technical Authenticity: The film restoration details add credibility and thematic depth
However, some readers may find challenges in certain aspects:
Graphic Content: The novel's unflinching depiction of violence and body horror may overwhelm sensitive readers Pacing Fluctuations: The middle section occasionally slows as Ellen's isolation intensifies Supernatural Logic: The rules governing the cursed film's power remain deliberately ambiguous, which may frustrate some readers seeking clearer explanations
Final Verdict: A Transformative Horror Experience
Black Flame represents a significant achievement in contemporary horror fiction, demonstrating Felker-Martin's continued evolution as a storyteller willing to confront difficult truths through supernatural metaphor. The novel succeeds not merely as a work of genre fiction, but as a meditation on the cost of repression and the violent birth pangs of authentic selfhood.
While the graphic content and challenging themes may limit its audience, readers prepared for Felker-Martin's unflinching approach will discover a work of remarkable power and originality. Black Flame confirms its author's position among horror fiction's most vital contemporary voices, offering a narrative that haunts long after the final page.
This is essential reading for anyone interested in horror that dares to examine the real monsters lurking within societal structures, transforming personal liberation into cosmic horror and finding beauty within the flames of destruction.
I am here for it. I thoroughly enjoyed this read. I'll also enthusiastically recommend it but only to a very specific kind of person and reader. This is not one for the masses, the prudes, or the less adventurous. Everyone else? Buckle up.
If you know this author, you'll be expecting a gritty, graphic, somewhat out there experience, and you will get all of those things and more with Ellen, whose relatively pedestrian name hints (falsely) at her externally mundane life. But there's more to Ellen, who is a restorer of films. When it comes to her most recent project, Ellen is piecing together not only one of the wildest films I've ever heard of but also deeply hidden pieces of herself.
Throughout this novel, Ellen's uncertainty about what is real and imagined, who she is, and what her deepest desires actually are becomes so chaotic and powerful that it consumes both her AND the reader's sense of reality. Yes, there's body horror, graphic descriptions of sex and acts some people may not typically associate with that, and much more, but that's not the most sinister part of this experience. The psychological elements here, particularly the coming to terms with who she is and what she wants, make Ellen a model for a real person as much as a fictional character. Can you really know yourself until you've spent significant amounts of time alone with yourself and faced what you did not know you truly desired? Ellen is here to show us.
As has been the case for me with every book I've read by this author, there are parts of this read that made me uncomfortable. That's intentional. I was DYING to listen to an audio version of this and was incredibly fortunate to be able to do that, thanks to a misunderstanding on my part and real kindness on someone else's. Being able to listen to the book added a sense of reality and perspective to wildly unreal events; this all heightened my experience, and I recommend this option when and where accessible.
I continue to really appreciate the originality this author brings to horror and identity exploration, and readers who can manage this content should snap this up immediately. Everyone else, stay away. The beach reads are waiting for you on another shelf, and there's no shame in that (just as there is no shame in the absolutely wild antics that happen here)!
*Special thanks to NetGalley, TorNightfire, and especially the kindness of a granter of the wildest audiobook dreams for this arc, which I received in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are my own.