The writing is as austere as the setting, which fits. This is a stark horror and it builds slowly. There is no monster here (except for the greatest monster of all–man).

Yes, this is one of those psychologically scary horrors like Oldboy or Se7en. Fear is created through a slow burn as the person terrorizing others is just a guy like you or me. And he does it by degrees, not in a single brutal slash. And you are left to wonder what you would do in this situation and finding yourself not liking the answer.

The novel, as written, was more an allegory of city people fleeing into the rural areas, gentrifying them, farmers getting shouldered off their land by weekend warriors and the invasion of suburbia. But you know how I interpreted it? I saw an allegory for how Native Americans were driven off their land. Getting increasingly worse deals for their property, always the threat of violence implied if they didn’t surrender.

The problem is that, like other horror novels I’ve seen, like in The Deep and Touch the Night, they get into a “horror loop”. They remember to include the scares but forget to move the plot along. The scary thing repeats and no one does anything about it. It’s like building a stack of papers one sheet at a time. Which, I guess, is what a book is. But for me, I need more development than that, not just scrapings.