A Monster’s Embrace: My Thoughts on Beasts by Ingvild Bjerkeland
When I first stumbled upon Beasts by Ingvild Bjerkeland, I felt an irresistible urge to dive into its pages. As someone who’s always been captivated by monster stories—stories that blend the eerie with the imaginative—this haunting tale promised exactly that. The moment I discovered it was a horror story embracing the unseen terrors of the world, I knew I had to explore this chilling landscape. And thanks to NetGalley and Levine Querido for the opportunity to read this e-ARC, here’s my take on this spine-tingling narrative.
Set against the backdrop of a world before the beasts—dark, wild creatures with "silky black fur"—Bjerkeland paints a vividly terrifying picture of a society in ruins. Our protagonists, thirteen-year-old Abdi and his precocious five-year-old sister Alva, find themselves navigating this harrowing landscape, living in constant fear of the monsters that lurk around every corner. The story, while a tale of survival, is ultimately about sibling loyalty and the depths of innocence in the face of horror.
What struck me most about Bjerkeland’s writing is her ability to craft fear without an overindulgence in gore. She cleverly threads suspense throughout the narrative, reminding me of the tension in A Quiet Place—the dread of producing any sound, lest the beasts come sniffing for their next meal. I found myself hanging onto every word, caught between the realms of reality and imagination, and desperately wanting to root for Abdi and Alva as they sought refuge from the very darkness that threatened to swallow them whole.
While the pacing of the short novel is brisk, it serves the narrative well, ushering readers swiftly from one tense moment to the next. However, I have to admit, I was left feeling a tad dissatisfied by the abrupt ending—a trend that seems to be gaining traction in contemporary literature. The conclusion felt like it halted mid-sentence, leaving questions swirling in the air like the dust in the dystopian landscape. While this ambiguity can spark discussion and reflection, part of me yearned for that complete closure.
Despite its minor flaws, I genuinely enjoyed Beasts. I appreciated that the horror, while palpable, remains accessible for younger readers without resorting to shock for shock’s sake. This is a rare gem in the realm of horror, reminding us that fear can be compelling without sacrificing authenticity. The complexity and creativity woven throughout the narrative serve to enrich not only its atmospheric qualities but also the characters’ emotional journeys.
In short, if you’re a fan of imaginative monsters and stories that blur the lines between childhood innocence and primal terror, then you might just find Beasts a worthwhile addition to your reading list. Though it’s a quick read, it resonates with lingering thoughts and questions, ultimately urging us to consider the monsters hidden not only in the world around us but within us as well.
Three out of five stars feels earned here, and I would certainly revisit this haunting tale. Bjerkeland has created a world ripe for exploration, and I look forward to what she conjures up next.