Spiral Tower Reviews: We Haunt Each Other--The Emotional Horror of Looking Glass Sound by Catriona Ward

We Haunt Each Other--The Emotional Horror of Looking Glass Sound
Ward, Catriona. Looking Glass Sound. Tor Nightfire, August 2023.
Words: 800



“If you don’t bring up those lonely parts
This could be a good time”
-Interpol, “Leif Erikson”

Since the 2015 release of her debut novel Rawblood, Catriona Ward has established herself as a writer to be watched. Subsequent novels have been unleashed in rapid succession, bringing her numerous accolades. She is the three-time winner of the August Derleth Award for Best Horror Novel, for example, an achievement unmatched by any other woman writer. Her 2021 novel The Last House on Needless Street is still enjoying a great deal of buzz among readers and critics, and new release Looking Glass Sound seems destined to keep Ward’s name at the vanguard of the horror fiction community.

When his father inherits a cottage in coastal Maine, 16-year-old Wilder Harlow finds himself caught up in a summer that will forever alter the course of his life. Socially awkward and painfully sensitive, Wilder nevertheless finds himself swiftly drawn into an intense friendship with two local teens, Nat and Harper. Abandoned by his mother, fisherman’s son Nat spends his days outdoors, seemingly reluctant to spend time at home. Harper plays at witchcraft—perhaps to exert more control over her troubled family life—and has already developed a thirst for alcohol that goes beyond her friends’ youthful experimentation with drink. The three lonely friends discover the companionship that they so desperately need in each other, vowing to meet again in future summers. Despite their optimistic oath, the triad is short-lived, however. People have been quietly disappearing from Whistler Bay for years, and threatening Polaroid photos of a knife held to the throats of sleeping children have turned up on multiple occasions. When a shocking link between the teens and the so-called Dagger Man of Whistler Bay is revealed the following summer, the friendship is torn asunder. Even after going their separate ways, the events of Whistler Bay follow the trio for the rest of their lives.

Looking Glass Sound involves a great deal of literary experimentation. Unreliable narration in particular plays a prominent role. Wilder becomes a writer, his entire career fixated upon the summers in Whistler Bay and their aftermath, and much of the text is presented as chapters from his unpublished memoir. Perspectives shift throughout the book, and there’s also a recurring thematic emphasis on storytelling. When Wilder asks Nat about a quirk of Harper’s, he casually responds that it’s “not my story to tell.” It’s a brief passage, presented without any obvious significance, but the concept of ownership of stories—who has the “right” to tell them—is one Ward returns to again and again within the book.

While the puzzle-like construction and misdirection of Looking Glass Sound are clever, I found myself more struck by the emotional dimension of the book. The way the characters interact with each other feels brutally real and raw, and because the book follows them over the course of decades, the reader sees Wilder and friends change and grow. The explosive, white-hot infatuations and arguments of their younger years give way in adulthood to frustrated longing and smoldering grudges. Looking Glass Sound has an intimate cast of characters—one could even call it crowded, even claustrophobic—and their separations and reunions over the years result in a melancholy mélange of missed opportunities, interrupted romances, regrets, and awkwardness. The circumstances surrounding the Dagger Man tragedy leave each of the characters laden with trauma and grief, but they find themselves not just haunted by the dead, but each other. Words unspoken, kisses unstolen, and disagreements unresolved all take on weight as years accumulate in the story.

The initial premise of Looking Glass Sound feels a bit like it could have been taken from a scrap filched from Stephen King’s desk, and some readers have expressed frustration with how Ward blurs the line between actual and imagined events. However, despite Ward’s trickiness, attentive readers should be able to navigate the layers and twists. My central complaint would be that the book tends to neglect the horror half of literary horror. Apart from infrequent moments of supernatural peril (which do include an excellent climax, to Ward’s credit), this book left me more sad than frightened. That being said, the empathy and authenticity with which Ward’s walking wounded characters are rendered is thoroughly engrossing. It’s never stated in so many words, but “we haunt each other” is the core message I took away from the book.

About the Reviewer: Born in Spain and raised in the United States, Robin Marx has lived in Japan for more than two decades. He works in the video game industry, handling localization and international licensing. In addition to over a dozen video games, his writing has appeared in a number of role-playing game supplements, Grimdark Magazine, and New Edge Sword & Sorcery Magazine. He lives with his wife and their two daughters.

About Spiral Tower Reviews: The authors who maintain the pulp genres of sword and sorcery, cosmic horror, and space opera merit support. Financial support is key but there are other ways the cash-strapped can show support: engaged reading and thoughtful analysis. Literary movements emerge through the interactions of editors, authors, publishers, and amateur literary journalists. Learn more about contributing your review here. We are happy to work with first time reviewers.

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