‘In daylight, Madeline looked twice as shocking. Her haid was a dandelion’s colorless wisp and skin looked almost transparent. When she stood against the sun, I half expected to see light stream through her like a stained-glass window, with a frame of bones instead of lead.’

Now. I am not a fan of horror books, but it’s spooky season and I promised Nils I’d review some spooky books. So I’m meeting her half way, and reading an author whose fantasy novels I’ve been loving this year – T. Kingfisher. I know nothing about her Sworn Soldier books except the covers are creepy and I used to shelve them in the horror section. I have since learned that What Moves the Dead is a retelling of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher; but having never read Poe, for the reason I opened with, I am still none the wiser starting What Moves the Dead.

The opening chapter is lush with detail of a decaying house squatting in a dead landscape. A highly effective opening, atmospheric and evocative, truly building in the reader a forboding sense of unease which is reflected in our protagonist, Alex. Alex Easton, on receiving a letter from kan’s childhood friend Madeline Usher on her sickness, has come to see if ka can help. Alex is understandably shocked and dismayed at the state of the house Madeline lives in, but not as shocked as the state of Madeline, and to a lesser extent her brother Roderick, herself, and Alex wonders if ka is too late.

Comparing What Moves, naturally, to Kingfisher’s fantasies, I found the tone of her writing is very different this time round, the style of it. She successfully maintains the palpable atmosphere throughout, building towards her grotesque finale whilst never allowing it to lull. Her descriptions are exceptionally visual, the story played in my mind’s eye like a black and white movie. I rarely compare books to films, but it did remind me of the 1939 adaptation of Wuthering Heights.

‘He opened the door, still not very wide. A shaft of gray daylight penetrated the darkness inside without illuminating much of anything. I walked down the shaft with my shadow taking point, and then the servant closed the door and I stoof in darkness.
As leaden as the landscape outside had been, it was lit up like a burning city compared to the interior of the house. My eyes took a moment to adjust, and then there was a rasp of mathces and the servant lit a set of candles on the side table by the door. He handed me one, as if it were completely normal for the house to be this dark at midday.’

Kingfisher’s style of writing put me in mind of an Agatha Christie, the clipped tone of the narrator, and it cleverly plays on our expectations. This tone occasionally slipped, which was a shame, when Alex was explaining something to us, for example, which threw me a little at first. It’s something that either settled or I stopped noticing as the story ramped up. But along similar lines, I struggled with Alex’s explanation of Sworn Soldiers and the pronouns, and why the nation of Gallacia had different pronouns and how they were used. Although commendable to represent nonbinary and the potential of pronouns, I felt Kingfisher’s explanation was heavier handed than what I’ve previously been used to in her writing. I think she could have confidently worked this element into the narrative and trusted her readers to understand.

I should probably address the horror elements, shouldn’t I, particularly for those of you who actully enjoy horror? I’d say What Moves the Dead is a slow, creeping, grasping kind of read. There are many moments that deal with the grotesque (I always read on my lunch break – I had to put this down. For those who know, it was The Moment with the hare), in particular in terms of body horror. I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to say this involves fungal growths, given the cover. The other horror element then was the uncanny, the sense of the familiar when it is stripped away and you can’t place your finger on why. There was a scene where Alex discovers Madeline sleepwalking which honestly should be taught in literary critique classes as an example of the uncanny. These two elements working in tangent with the Gothic (crumbling malevolent manor, hostile landscape, the downwards journey to a crypt, the isolation and control of a woman – it’s all there) made for a truly unsettling read.

Finally, I want to address this story’s role as a retelling, because when I neared the end of it I decided to pick up The Fall of the House of Usher as I was interested to see in which way this was a retelling. I had thought myself suitably impressed by What Moves up to this point, but having read the source material it took me far beyond that. I would recommend reading House of Usher first (it’s 25 pages and in the public domain) simply so you can fully appreciate what Kingfisher has done here. Aside from giving name, personality, autonomy to the narrator, she has lifted Madeline – the nexus of horror – and given her a voice. Kingfisher recognised an opportunity to propogate the horror through giving her illness a cause and giving her character self-determination and in doing so it grew and spread in the most malign manner.

What Moves the Dead is a psychological feast of the Gothic and uncanny, best suited for fans of atmospheric and creepy horror. I certainly won’t be looking at mushrooms the same way again.

What Moves the Dead is available now from Titan, you can order your copy on Bookshop.org