I actually preferred the movie version -- 3 stars
I had seen the movie adaptation of “Ghost Story” many years ago, and remembered it fondly. When I came across the novel, I decided to give it a try. The resulting experience was just so-so.
Another reason I gave it a try was, I was in the mood for a book that would genuinely scare me -- the kind that follows you into the dark after you’ve closed the cover. Sadly, my hopes were misplaced. This isn’t a story that haunts or horrifies. It’s just about a group of friends in a New England town, some local shape shifter lore, and the quiet weight of things left undone. (In that regard, this was one of the few times I think a movie may have out done its source material.)
I can say, Straub’s writing did keep me turning pages, and in the end, made me glad I did. His voice is noteworthy, a current running distinct and strong even through material that might otherwise have faltered. There’s a sly confidence to his prose; he led me willingly into a story that I didn’t really like over all, and left me smiling at its dry, peculiar wit -- a kind of horror that feels more like a raised eyebrow than a scream.
Based on other reviews I have since read, some readers have found Straub’s work disorienting, and so it is worth stating plainly: this book grants the reader omniscience. We drift through discussions, events, and monologues as the characters move across the board, never obligated to say aloud what the reader already knows.
Having said that, this could have been a different kind of book, and I wish it had been. If it had leaned into the premise of old friends swapping ghost stories, each haunted by their own guilts and regrets, I might have forgiven it the paranormal elements that surface later and feel so out of place. The bones are there: a group of men, friends for fifty years, who gather sometimes to tell each other stories. One of those stories makes it to the page, and it is genuinely monstrous. I wanted more of that. I kept waiting for more of that. The resentful eyes of the shape shifting demons lacked the visceral dread inspired by the ghost of the child molester, who continued to haunt the siblings he had tormented in life.
Horror, of course, is a matter of personal taste. On paper, the slaughter of a town by ghouls should be terrifying. But their actions and words never truly unnerved me, and that was precisely what I had hoped for.
Even so, I found myself drawn through its pages. There was much to admire, and as I’ve noted, Straub’s prose alone compelled me to finish. He writes with deep insight into his characters and their motives, and that careful understanding demands a reader’s time and attention.
I am glad, ultimately, to have read it. But it’s not a great ghost story, and I would not recommend it as one. But it is a testament to how beautiful good writing can be.
