By Ricky Jade
In January, I set out the New Years Resolution to read 40-50 books in a year and broaden my reading portfolio. And in my quest to diversify my bookshelf, I came across my first gothic novel, Starling House by Alix E. Harrow.
Starling House was recommended to me by a fellow creative writing student. And full of faith, I went into this novel completely blind. I didn’t even read the blurb.
The book opens with a note to the reader. At first, I thought that the note was from a character due it’s whimsical style. Rather, it was from the author herself. She gives insight into her motivations for writing Starling House (including but not limited to her simultaneous love and disgruntlement with her home town) and welcomes the reader into a fantastical place. The Starling House.
My interest was piqued.
Starling House is a two-act novel set in a small town called Eden in Kentucky, USA. Sprinkled with interesting footnotes and illustrations, the novel follows the story of Opal – just Opal – a dishonest woman in her mid-twenties. She lives with her artistic and heavily asthmatic teenage brother, Jasper, in Room 12 of the local motel, The Garden of Eden. Opal considers herself without a “home”, but the two live rent-free because of a deal their late mother made with the motel owner, Bev. And it doesn’t stop Opal taking things for granted and picking constant fights with her. The siblings get by on picante chicken ramen and stolen packets of hot chocolate, but Opal wants more for her brother and his future.
In the midst of this historical mining town, lies the Starling House, an old and odd mansion shrouded in forest and vines. The House and its inhabitants are the source of rumour and fear of the rather traditionally minded town. Nevertheless, Opal is weirdy drawn to Starling House, often dreaming of running through its halls and watching the amber light in its attic window as she walks home from work.
The story spurs into action when Opal is offered a job housekeeping for the current owner of Starling House, Arthur Starling. Motivated by the generous salary and what it can do for her brother, Opal happily obliges.
Starling House explores themes that are very much relevant today. There is a realness to the story in how it discusses homelessness and capitalism, particularly the effects of the mining industry and the people who unethically make riches from it. There is another large house in Eden, owned by the Gravely family, built with the profits from polluting and mining a small town.
Harrow successfully leads the reader to question whether the villains of the story are from the monsters of fantasy or the monsters of our world.
Harrow pairs her theming with gorgeous writing. She propels the reader through the text with pure love and devotion to words and their construction. What I found particularly captivating is her descriptions of nothingness. Harrow is a sensory writer. You just know exactly what she is talking about. Here are some of my favourite examples:
“The door is an imperious arch that might have been red or brown but is now the nothing colour of afternoon rain.”
“The evening air has a springtime hum to it, the silent sound of live things unfurling, emerging, surfacing and spouting.”
It’s just so delicious. These descriptions made me utterly jealous. I wish I came up with them.
And I can’t make this review without mentioning something we don’t get to see too much in contemporary fiction. Most of the characters aren’t stupid hot. Yes, even those who get into relationships. Rather, Harrow describes characters in a way that matches their quirks – and that means flaws.
And while that is all well and good, I am nothing if not an honest reviewer. I realise this book is intended for a more mature audience, perhaps New Adult, but the romance seems to hit a little juvenile. While there is nothing wrong with YA fiction in itself, I wasn’t sure that the attitudes and demeanour that Arthur and particularly, Opal matched with those in their mid-to-late twenties. Especially as a seasoned author, Harrow could have tackled Opal’s struggle with PTSD with a little more nuance.
Often when Opal experiences a flashback, she hits it afterward with words not unlike “Oh, classic PTSD.” I couldn’t help but feel pulled out of the story and left disappointed.
I also wanted to know more about the Opal’s brother, Jasper, and the intricacies of his character. Jasper and relationship with Opal could be utilised more, but he seems to be reduced to an agitated teenager.
What Harrow seems to lack in characterisation, she makes up for in setting and storytelling. She unveils the mystery of the story one layer at a time. The story of the Starling House is told to Opal by many different perspectives, each made of a different combination of lies, truths or half-truths. Each story reveals something new about the Starling House, it’s inhabitants or the town of Eden, like a mirror with a dozen angles.
Harrow creates such an atmosphere that seems to strike the heart of what the gothic genre is. Mixing romance and fear, death and nature, intense emotion and gloom, modernity and history. I spook easily, but Starling House is more tame in it’s horror, with just the right amount of uneasiness and uncanniness.
The strongest part of the novel was rising action and climax of the second act, where Harrow pulls off the macabre and fantastical in such an immersive way. Everything ties together beautifully, save for a few missed opportunities. Harrow is excellent at revealing the final mystery of Starling House, like a puzzle that isn’t revealed until you put in the last piece. But this is a spoiler-free review, so you can see it for yourself.
Starling House is bit slow-paced but great for the relaxed reader. If you love worlds sprinkled with fantasy, indulging your love for doom and darkness, haunted mansions, or you’re just a slut for pretty writing – Starling House is for you.
