THIS IS WHERE THE FAMILY TREE MEETS THE FAMILY PLOT. THIS IS BLOODLINES. (BOOK REVIEW)

15/2/2022

BLURB

If you’ve ever dreaded a family dinner, felt terror at the blood pumping in your veins; if you’ve ever thought maybe the people you call kin just aren’t quite right—Bloodlines will hold you in its thrall with its literary daring, blood-soaked wit, and taste for carnage. From quiet horror to caterwauling bloodshed, this quadruple feature is fun for the whole family.

A trio of sisters take turns sharing a migraine that challenges their pain tolerance—and sanity ("Our Migraine," Christopher O’Halloran).

A man struggles with his inheritance when his absent father—and namesake—dies, leaving him with disturbing visions and an unwanted purpose ("Nos Da, Tad," Antony Frost).

A young ghost watches a sinister family gathering complete with a prettier, smarter replica of herself—then, makes sure it’s their last ("I Am Not to be Replaced," Carson Winter).

Following the death of his mother, the eldest of five siblings must uncover the true nature of his family’s strange, isolated existence while an apocalyptic event looms ("The Heads of Leviathan," Alex Wolfgang).

This is where the family tree meets the family plot. This is Bloodlines.

REVIEW

Family is a complex organism. No one else has the ability to make us feel emotions as deeply as family does. It can bring us solace, shoring us up against the world when it's done well. However, when it's not, only those who know us best can make us can feel ashamed, betrayed and so disconnected. All too often our interactions with family can be hurtful, filled with miscommunications and bitterness. Those who should be our closest allies, our greatest sources of support and love, often end up feeling like strangers or even worse our foes. These four stories carry us along through family dynamics of strife, pain, trauma, and yes, compassion and affection.

In Christopher O'Halloran's "Our Migraine", a painful illness and the subsequent passing of their mother leads three sisters to carry the burden of pain in this novelette. A wish made out of love quickly twists their interactions which are at first caring, quickly degenerating to indifference, and finally to outright cruelty with the unequal division of hardship and hurt. Familiar obligation and the shared burden after a parent's passing rests heavily on the sisters as they quite literally take their mother's pain in the form of an eternal migraine. In true monkey's paw form, their wish to relive their mother of her deathbed suffering descends with a horrific consequence. What makes this story unique is that the sisters can carry the pain of the migraine individually—each of them taking a turn. It doesn't take long for this arrangement to wear unevenly, leading to resentment and eventually to almost an inhuman mercilessness. The tension accumulates, closing the curtain on an ending scene that is both shocking and heart-wrenching.

"Nos Da, Tad" by Anthony Frost brings into play familial inheritance in another manner. Another parental death, although this time it's met with indifference. Our protagonist, Owen can't manage to drum up concern when told of his father's death after a lifetime devoid of his presence. When he discovers that his father bequeaths his house and its strange contents, he and his lover, Martin set off on a path of discovery. He gets flashes of atrocious happenings that aren't memories of his own but that of his birth father. The story unravels from there into a fast-paced plot of secret societies, occultism, and some terrific body and cosmic horror imagery.

The first-person view of "Nos Da, Tad" made Owen's emotional plight very relatable. Also, the relationship between Owen and his lover, Martin was vulnerable and devoted and was a great demarcation from that of his wayward father. At the center of this is the concept of self-identity and that while we are made from our parents, we still get to forge our own paths. Their darkness does not have to be our darkness but we can choose to let their light shine through us.

In Carson Winter's "I am Not to be Replaced", we have an entirely new type of narrator--a ghostly one. This tale is more of a mystery than the other two in the collection but that's what makes it so intriguing. It's difficult to know exactly where it's going or even honestly where it is, to begin with, but the author draws us in giving us little fragments at a time. All we know is that there is a family settling into a vacation cabin and there are two of the narrator: the one walking around and the apparition that used to be her. As the story progresses, the mystery asserts itself or should I say herself. It's a lesson surely, on attaining perfection and how not living up to the expectations of your family can be both lonely and liberating. I loved this one. It's clever and darkly humorous at times. I highly enjoyed the revenge of the black sheep in this horned eldritch tale.

"The Heads of the Leviathan" by Alex Wolfgang brings us full circle again to the death of a parent and the responsibility of those left behind as five siblings are left with more questions than answers after their mother's death. It begins with a hospice procession to the sea where their mother simply fades away in the seawater and the children then attempt to process their complex emotions. As someone who lost her mother too early, this one reverberated in me a bit with the line "There was no one right way to feel." Everyone experiences loss in their own way and while the loss is shared, the experience can feel isolating. Grief and horror intermingle as the family left behind struggle to stay unified in the wake of death. This story was unconventional and otherworldly but it stayed with me long after the conclusion.

While staying on the theme of family, each of the four novelettes brought a different perspective with it. These stories are raw, showing both the grotesque and the extraordinary. Each of the authors did an outstanding job at conveying both sides of the coin while remaining insightful and complex. Family is an intricate thing with experiences and emotions that can sometimes be either dreadful or wonderful, and occasionally both simultaneously. This collection embodies that with wit and wonder.

Bloodlines: Four Tales of Familial Fear

If you’ve ever dreaded a family dinner, felt terror at the blood pumping in your veins; if you’ve ever thought maybe the people you call kin just aren’t quite right--Bloodlines will hold you in its thrall with its literary daring, blood-soaked wit, and taste for carnage. From quiet horror to caterwauling bloodshed, this quadruple feature is fun for the whole family.
A trio of sisters take turns sharing a migraine that challenges their pain tolerance—and sanity ("Our Migraine," Christopher O’Halloran).
A man struggles with his inheritance when his absent father—and namesake—dies, leaving him with disturbing visions and an unwanted purpose ("Nos Da, Tad," Antony Frost).
A young ghost watches a sinister family gathering complete with a prettier, smarter replica of herself—then, makes sure it’s their last ("I Am Not to be Replaced," Carson Winter).
Following the death of his mother, the eldest of five siblings must uncover the true nature of his family’s strange, isolated existence while an apocalyptic event looms ("The Heads of Leviathan," Alex Wolfgang).
This is where the family tree meets the family plot. This is Bloodlines.