The Curse of the Wendigo

4,5 stars Holy shit, Rick Yancey is one messed up individual and I can't help loving him for that. (Especially funny that I am not interested in his 5th Wave series at all.) This book was absolute nasty stuff, with things that are so dark that you will probably not feel like having a light snack afterwards if you are in any way sensitive. I personally don't care like that, I am always open to a snack, less so to horror novels. I find they often cross the line of what's truly exciting and spooky and go into ridiculously cheesy and over the top laughable territories. This seemed to have a surprising amount of actual value. It was written well, it had enough action, events seemed to happen in a logical way that I could follow and not feel like the author is just trolling me to laugh at me being weirded out. The other guy from an old love triangle from Dr. Warthrop's life disappeared on a trip to look for some monster and the lady showed up begging the help of our doctor (and Will Henry by proxy) to find him in a remote Canadian place. Just to prove everyone wrong, they go on a hunt for a creature Warthrop refuses to believe even exists. Things go weird as always, the yearly monstrumologist convention happens (no cosplays, I'm sorry, just stuffy weirdos getting drunk as shit, beating each other up and solving nasty murders). One thing I really loved was the fact that we met more monstrumologists now. Apparently it's an international community of science bros who are borderline suicidal in their obsessions with ll creatures that can kill you. They are all different, all insane. I love them. Also, nobody parties like monster hunters, apparently. Nobody also has angsty stories where everyone gets emotionally damaged like that either, which... usually isn't really my cup of tea, but here it worked. The whole atmosphere and the writing managed to support the angst in a way that actually made it pretty... nice? I don't mean nice nice, but very readable. Which this was. Readable, I mean. The language is old-fashioned and ornate, very fitting for the settings, but it doesn't seem to suffocate the flow of the book. Kate Griffin (yeah, the [b:A Madness of Angels 6186355 A Madness of Angels (Matthew Swift, #1) Kate Griffin https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1305861910s/6186355.jpg 6366640] lady) should take some lessons from Mr. Yancey. While she kills the action, he manages to just support it even more and make me want to read more more more. I also like how the characters are not really fluffy. Sure, Warthrop does some not entirely horrible things once in a while, but we didn't have any big moments of the cold scientist turning out to be a real sweetheart with a heart of gold. No. He is truly obsessed with what he is doing and it takes away a lot of his possibilities and willingness to be cuddly. Will is an enjoyable child character. He is not a little idiot without any idea of the world, but he isn't some super hero who schools grownass scientists with his amazing kiddo wit. He is flawed, he is not some magical prodigy and I can't help feeling for him. So much is happening to this poor baby, he needs some hugs. The only character who irritated me was Lilly, this annoying little brat who endangers everyone because she is just so infuriatingly smartass. If I had a child like her, I would slap here so hard. I was probably supposed to find her endearing, but I wanted the monsters to take her. About the monster. It was absolutely horrifyingly nasty ass. It was something between a person and a creature, vile as they can be. I kind of liked that. It was disgusting and somehow managed to still keep things from being caricatures. Fantastic balance. Still, I find the first book better. Maybe it was the surprise of finding something so brilliant, I don't know. Both are brilliant, the first book a tiny bit better in my opinion. I am definitely picking up the next book, nothing can stop me. Good night and don't let the cannibalistic crazy monster people bite!

Oh god. Why are these books so beautiful? My mom makes fun of me for the stuff I read. And watch. She has since I was a little kid, because I always steered towards the ghost stories, the monster movies, the alien space operas, shit with blood and action and evil since the day I figured out how to turn a page. When I stumbled on Christine a few weeks back while channel surfing and started watching it, both my parents snipped to each other that I wasn't capable of watching anything that didn't have at least a supernatural twist (for the record, I started watching it for the homoerotic subtext, not the haunted car). The other day, when I came home from a recent haul from the book store (which consisted of [b:False Memory 10194494 False Memory (False Memory, #1) Dan Krokos https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1333152704s/10194494.jpg 15093669], [b:Girl in the Arena 6449916 Girl in the Arena Lise Haines https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1330973721s/6449916.jpg 6640032] and [b:Anna Dressed in Blood 9378297 Anna Dressed in Blood (Anna, #1) Kendare Blake https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1388207682s/9378297.jpg 14261925], in case you were wondering) my mom asked me “Do you ever read anything real?” Something in me wanted to hand her The Curse of the Wendigo out of some kind of cruelty or maybe defiance, so she could know how brutally real a story about a man who studies monsters could be.I don't think this book was as gory or as violent as the first book in the series, [b:The Monstrumologist 6457229 The Monstrumologist (The Monstrumologist, #1) Rick Yancey https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1307409930s/6457229.jpg 6647553]. However, it possessed true horror. And I don't mean slasher movie horror, running from a ten-foot beast, or a psycho with an ax. I mean, looking into the face of decimated humanity and feeling the despair of failure kind of horror. This book is more about people than it is about monsters.The question is never really answered for sure – whether the enemy is a villain or a creature – which I thought was brilliant and painful. While John Chanler/the Wendigo's attacks displayed inhuman strength and appetite, his means of doing so spoke of a man that had snapped, rather than a monster on a rampage. Or maybe we're just talking semantics, rather than science. His methods were horrific in the way that a fine needle can be far more terrifying than a butcher knife, though he was not remotely subtle. His madness was apparent not in his killing, but in his desecration of everything he loved and everything that made him human.This is the second time Pellinore Warthrop has had a mirror held up to him and his mistakes and seen cruelty and ruthlessness stare back at him, but here it's does much more artfully than with the foil of Jack Kearns. As a whole, this second installment is a far more sophisticated story, and what it lacks in punchy action and suspense is makes up for in emotion, drama, and of course beautiful writing. That isn't to say that there isn't much action here, there's just less, and it doesn't move as quickly as its predecessor. It relies moreso on slow burn terror. The first section, where Winthrop, Will Henry and their guide, Sergeant Hawk, are lost in the snow-laden Canadian wilderness, stalked by a pair of yellow eyes, is some of the creepiest stuff I've ever read. And when the wendigo is loose in New York City, the fear doesn't all come from the hunt in back alley slums, but more when Will Henry hears his own name calling him on the wind. It's just that there is so much more emotional weight in the violence, that Yancey has to hold back on it, because when it comes down it is near devastating.I do have one complaint, and it was the same one I had about The Monstrumologist, though I didn't bring it up in my review because I was too much in love. The first book failed the Bechdel Test miserably, and while The Curse of the Wendigo does introduced two female characters who had plenty of screen time, it doesn't pass either. Not to mention, one of those characters was very much the emblem of idealized womanhood (and ultimately, fridge-stuffing), and the other was utterly foul (though to be honest, I started to like her a little bit towards the end, and if she showed up in later books a few years older and with her, um, priorities sorted out, I don't think I'd mind). I didn't want to complain initially because I almost feel like these books are not the place to make these kinds of demands – I mean, the main characters are a prepubescent boy, and an insensitive genius man-child. Putting women into the mix just spells trouble. I actually kind of cringed when I saw the synopsis for this one, as bringing in a love interest from Winthrop's past just seemed like begging for a smiting from the Female Character Trope gods (for the record, I was kind of right, but it was beautifully done like everything else in this book). Nonetheless, having at least two competent female characters, with names, who talk to each other about something other than a man would be icing on this very delicious, bloody cake.But as is the case with well-done pieces of work that nonetheless neglect that relationships between women, instead they excel at the relationships between men. The stark, desperate familial love between Will Henry and Winthrop is one of the focal points of this story, as its played in contrast to how Winthrop destroyed his previous loves and how close he is to doing it again. Then there's the relationship between Winthrop and his former mentor and true father figure, von Helrung, who he feels will destroy the science of monstrumology with his obsession with the Wendigo myth; and of course, the bond between him and John Chanler, a kind of friendship that tears at the heart with whips and chains and drags even our dear monstrumologist down.I was planning on reading this for some good fights and gore, and ended up coming out of it feeling rather sentimental. I don't want to portray this book as some weepy telenovela, even if it does have all the trappings of it. It is just as wicked, as vicious, as monstrous as the first book, if not moreso, but it goes about it in a much different way.