All anyone knew was that when the house at the end of the lane burned down, Rita Frost and her teenage ward, Bevan, were never seen or heard from again. Only twins Mae and Rossa knew the truth of what happened because they spent two of the strangest and most dangerous summers of their lives with Rita and Bevan, in a house where nothing was as it seemed, haunted by a sinister presence that called itself Sweet James. Lurking behind the wallpaper, it seduced Bevan with glimpses of magic and escape; at the same time, Mae became just as enthralled with Bevan, to the point where she’d give her anything. A dangerous offer when all that Sweet James desired was flesh.
If Griffin’s previous novel, Spare and Found Parts, was a riff on the Frankenstein story, Other Words For Smoke is a haunted house tale and has a lot of the tropes and trappings of one: a gothic-seeming house full of strange things – including a fire that must always be kept burning, even in the height of summer, and a cupboard full of statuettes of the Virgin Mary – and which seems to be alive with a mind of its own. Then there’s totemic animals, in the form of Rita’s cat Bobby, who’s not only the size of a small dog but may also be more than just a cat. Rita herself makes her living as a fortune teller, reading tarot cards in her living room, with Bevan as her assistant/protégée. And lastly, you can’t have a haunted house story without something to haunt it and that brings us to Sweet James: an eldritch entity that takes the form of an owl formed from the pattern of the wallpaper in Bevan’s bedroom, making him both alien and a part of the fabric of the house. He prays upon Bevan’s desires to escape the narrow confines of her small town/rural community, giving her glimpses of a strange other dimension – Lovecraftian in heavy shades of neon – in exchange for flesh, starting with bones from the butcher before demanding fresh flesh, from the twins.
This adds an extra Faustian dimension to the story, with hints of a game being played where the participants, moved around like pieces on a chess board, are not only unaware of the rules but unaware that they are even being played.
And, like all good ghost stories, it’s not just the supernatural elements doing the haunting. Looming over everything is the spectre of Irish history, particularly that of the Magdalene Laundries and the attitudes towards single mothers and children born outside of marriage in general. A minor, but important, plot point is what happened to Rita’s two best friends back when they were teenagers; it’s heavily implied that one of them suffered tragedy as a result of an unplanned pregnancy, an event that tore the other two apart and may have even precipitated the Sweet James’s current haunting.
The writing is pitch-perfect in atmosphere and tone: eerie and mysterious when it needs to be, capable of humour when the tension needs easing but plays serious moments straight, all the while managing to be smooth and conversational in style. There is also the delightful addition of occasional omnisciently narrated footnotes that do what footnotes are supposed to do – add to/expand upon the story, in the case of horror/ghost stories this is very effective for adding a little extra chill here and there.
As well written and imaginative as her debut, Other Words for Smoke is a strange, evocative and poignant addition to the haunted house genre.
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Synopsis | Goodreads
The house at the end of the lane burned down, and Rita Frost and her teenage ward, Bevan, were never seen again. The townspeople never learned what happened. Only Mae and her brother Rossa know the truth; they spent two summers with Rita and Bevan, two of the strangest summers of their lives… Because nothing in that house was as it seemed: a cat who was more than a cat, and a dark power called Sweet James that lurked behind the wallpaper, enthralling Bevan with whispers of neon magic and escape. And in the summer heat, Mae became equally as enthralled with Bevan. Desperately in the grips of first love, she’d give the other girl anything. A dangerous offer when all that Sweet James desired was a taste of new flesh…
