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A review by boocwurm
Brat by Gabriel Smith
challenging
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
4.0
Thank you to the publisher for an advanced digital copy in exchange for an honest review!
BRAT reads like an absolute fever dream—a mind-melting trot through a haunted house where the main character is definitely on drugs but the reader is stone-cold sober. I can honestly say I've never read anything like this book before, and while I didn't necessarily like it, I definitely can appreciate what it accomplishes.
We follow Gabriel, the titular "brat" of the novel, who has just lost his father, broken up with his girlfriend, is struggling with his mother's dementia and has been tasked with clearing out his childhood home for sale. Needless to say, Gabriel is not handling things well. In his grief, he drinks, does drugs, sleeps at random points of the day and starts experiencing an assortment of horrifying things. His skin is peeling off in sheets (like a lizard), there's a creepy man in a deer mask in the garden shed, the house is literally falling apart around him and he discovers a videotape and manuscript that change every time he views them.
The author uses staccato sentences and brief vignettes, rather than extended scenes, which have the combined impact of being extremely disorienting to read. It took a minute to get used to this narrative voice, but the blunt and repetitive nature grew on me and made the book an altogether quick read. Add to this the body horror, "haunted-house" elements, buried family secrets and unreliability of our narrator, and you have an eerie, gothic tale that keeps you on edge to the very end. It's not clear what's real, what's a dream and what everything actually means—and ultimately, I believe that's the point.
Gabriel's grandmother has an understated but impactful role in the story, with some profound lines about memory, history and the way we all view things differently. These, I think, spotlight the underlying message BRAT sends about grief and growing up. The way view our world—our memories, other people, and our personal role—is constantly shifting and rewriting itself, particularly in the face of loss.
I particularly liked the use of stories within the story, in the form of short prose, unfinished manuscripts and TV scripts, which were each unique but lightly connected to the larger narrative. I wish there was a little more clarity on some of the story's elements, like the deer man and the siblings Gabriel interacts with, but like our MC, I suppose I'll have to be satisfied not having all the answers.
BRAT reads like an absolute fever dream—a mind-melting trot through a haunted house where the main character is definitely on drugs but the reader is stone-cold sober. I can honestly say I've never read anything like this book before, and while I didn't necessarily like it, I definitely can appreciate what it accomplishes.
We follow Gabriel, the titular "brat" of the novel, who has just lost his father, broken up with his girlfriend, is struggling with his mother's dementia and has been tasked with clearing out his childhood home for sale. Needless to say, Gabriel is not handling things well. In his grief, he drinks, does drugs, sleeps at random points of the day and starts experiencing an assortment of horrifying things. His skin is peeling off in sheets (like a lizard), there's a creepy man in a deer mask in the garden shed, the house is literally falling apart around him and he discovers a videotape and manuscript that change every time he views them.
The author uses staccato sentences and brief vignettes, rather than extended scenes, which have the combined impact of being extremely disorienting to read. It took a minute to get used to this narrative voice, but the blunt and repetitive nature grew on me and made the book an altogether quick read. Add to this the body horror, "haunted-house" elements, buried family secrets and unreliability of our narrator, and you have an eerie, gothic tale that keeps you on edge to the very end. It's not clear what's real, what's a dream and what everything actually means—and ultimately, I believe that's the point.
Gabriel's grandmother has an understated but impactful role in the story, with some profound lines about memory, history and the way we all view things differently. These, I think, spotlight the underlying message BRAT sends about grief and growing up. The way view our world—our memories, other people, and our personal role—is constantly shifting and rewriting itself, particularly in the face of loss.
I particularly liked the use of stories within the story, in the form of short prose, unfinished manuscripts and TV scripts, which were each unique but lightly connected to the larger narrative. I wish there was a little more clarity on some of the story's elements, like the deer man and the siblings Gabriel interacts with, but like our MC, I suppose I'll have to be satisfied not having all the answers.