Orphan siblings,religious fanatics, spirit guides ... but this novel of two journeys from the Orange prize-shortlisted author is short on suspenseI want a noble gothic. A novel that smells of blood and dilapidated Bibles and sex, or ripe as a walled-up corpse,but stays the fair side of self-parody (humorous or ridiculous imitation) by sheer commitment. Sadly, Mr Splitfoot is not that book. Although Samantha Hunt turns out the creepy imagery and Christianity, and suspense runs short and horror is too often undercut by an infuriating structure that serves symbolism over story.
It starts off in New York State some decades ago,in a children’s domestic of intense and idiosyncratic religiosity called appreciate of Christ! (“exclamation mark included like screaming a curse every time you say it”) run by a man called the Father. Here, two children – Nat and Ruth, or a boy and a girl – turn their orphan isolation into an intimate bond. Through the intercession of spirit guide Mr Splitfoot,they contact (for a fee) the lost relations of the domestic’s other residents; it’s never fully clear even to themselves whether they’re natural scammers with a knack for cold reading, or devilish truthtellers with a direct line to the other side. Half the book is their journey out from the domestic and into the world.
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Source: theguardian.com