As ghost stories go, this one is not particularly gruesome
or even scary, but it’s a good one nonetheless, and actually, it’s more of a
haunted house story. Every nine years a
small iron door on a narrow street leads to a mansion occupied by a brother and
sister who need to consume the soul of another person in order to maintain their
immortality. The intrepid but unwise
people who enter the mansion are seeking those who have come before them and
disappeared, but their curiosity or quest for closure seems to outweigh their
good sense. Part of the problem, of
course, is that most of these seekers doubt that paranormal entities even exist
and therefore lack the wariness that might protect them. Plus, sometimes one of the sibling villains
will inhabit a host’s body and masquerade as a helpful guide when in fact they
are luring their unsuspecting prey into a trap.
Since each character, except the siblings, is a fleeting entity, I would
say that this book is definitely not a character study, but David Mitchell’s
writing never disappoints, even with the somewhat repetitive plot. Each time a new victim starts up the Slade
House stairs, I wanted to shout, “No, no, no, don’t go,” but each time some
temptation eggs them on. I have read
that this novel is a sequel to The
Bone Clocks, but since I do not remember that novel at all, I
can assure you that this novel’s supernatural storyline stands on its own quite
well, without the prequel. It may not be
a Mitchell’s masterpiece, but I certainly enjoyed the ride.