Nestlings, A Hopeful Horror: a book review

Nestlings (and Nat Cassidy, for that matter) came in with so much more than I expected, and in an excellent way. It was fun because I added the title to my Reading List a while back, and remembered nothing about it - besides its being a horror - when I picked it off the list to request from the library. So it was a total surprise gem, outside of the knowledge that some prior information had motivated me to add it to the list.

First off, it’s exactly the type of horror I was craving - dark hallways, things that go bump in the night, scary babies, the whole works. It was delicious that way. Second, and maybe this should have been first, Nat Cassidy writes a female lead beautifully. This always wins a male author all the points with me. He knows real women. He did his research on motherhood and postpartum and the tangled-up ball of golden threads that is being female in this world. It shows. Third, it reaches out of left field with heart and pristinely uncheesy hope. It caught my heart racing not for fear for the characters (though there was some of that, too) but for a genuine swelling of pride and love for the humanity in us that is able to rise up out of total shit. Even if we rise slowly.

Part of what made the story so satisfying was Cassidy’s ability to weave classic horror tropes and myths into an original and modern telling, complete with knowable characters and alluring imagery of otherworldly and old NYC architecture. I gave an audible OH SHIT several times throughout, and sped through it, totally compelled by the unfolding of events and characters. The commentary on racism and fear was delivered in a light-hearted, absurdist tone interwoven (almost as relief?) through the terror of the plot. It was a seriously good - and poignant - time.

The book opens with a trigger warning, though not the controversial brand of disclaimer that has become somewhat commonplace in modern literature (controversial because - should novels have trigger warnings?). When I opened the front cover and found this little page, I wondered exactly what sort of novel I had checked out. This is my first read with this sort of content in it (maybe I’m just super vanilla?), and I wanted real horror, not the stuff of authors-who-respect-trigger-warnings-at-the-beginning-of-books horror. But my fears peaced out as soon as I started in on it. He lays out in silly irony that the book is full of off-color, horrific, and awful things. Aka it’s a horror. It hit an encouraging first note.

You know what else I really liked about it? The ending was not ideal, nor was it bleak. The main character continued to live, to wake up each day and face the light, even come to enjoy the heat of it on her skin. I really liked that. The horror genre, specifically, has this unique opportunity to create stories and allegories without caution for boundaries and taboos. And when all the tools of the imagination are on the table, so much can be said. It is not uncommon to find clarity and beauty in a well-written horror, and Nestlings is a very entertaining example of just that. I thought he pulled it off seamlessly.

Finally, before I’m tempted to get into details and spoil things, the Author’s Note that follows the novel is not to be missed. Cassidy briefly explains the brutal onslaught of trying life events that surrounded and made space for the writing of this book. Bearing witness to an artist making a dark thing, full of light, from grief and the depths of human emotion, is always a privilege. Thank you for finding the light in the dark, Nat Cassidy, and sharing it in such a freaky-fun way. I enjoyed every minute.

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Molly, Lumens of Darkness: a book review