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Remo Macartney's Reviews > Ogre
Ogre
by
by
If the cover artwork for OGRE doesn’t forewarn the faint of heart, then one could rearrange the letters of the title and have a good idea of what awaits.
OGRE showcases Berry’s skill at chaining together action scenes in a relentless bloodlust. But to focus exclusively on the violence would be to overlook the commitment to craft and horror philosophy.
The plot of OGRE follows a group of counselors on their way to summer camp, an aging sheriff, and the titular beast as they cross paths in this boreal bloodbath. Right away, one catches on to Berry’s signature voice which runs at a smooth cadence and integrates a lavish vocabulary. In the opening sequences, Berry paints a vivid picture of the woods, detailing nature with a keen eye. At the same time, he depicts nature as untamed, and at times violent. While the woods harbor something sinister, there is an overarching ethic that this is the way things should be. I got the sense I was reading a pairing of Richard Laymon and Henry David Thoreau. Nothing is promised our protagonists, least of all safety. If anything, the encroachment of humans is the real interloper—that and one other interloper to be encountered at the book’s conclusion.
Some passages in the book recall the words of Robert E Howard. I got flashbacks to stories like “The Devil in Iron.” Even Caudel reminded me of King Conan in “The Phoenix on the Sword.” One passage recalled Howard most vividly:
A pendulum of might and madness, it swung amongst the pines, a black shadow of fur and claws and eyes that burned with molten evil.
Berry continues to display mastery over myriad horror aesthetics. He weaves his tales with unstoppable forward momentum. The “something goes bump in the woods” novel of the year.
OGRE showcases Berry’s skill at chaining together action scenes in a relentless bloodlust. But to focus exclusively on the violence would be to overlook the commitment to craft and horror philosophy.
The plot of OGRE follows a group of counselors on their way to summer camp, an aging sheriff, and the titular beast as they cross paths in this boreal bloodbath. Right away, one catches on to Berry’s signature voice which runs at a smooth cadence and integrates a lavish vocabulary. In the opening sequences, Berry paints a vivid picture of the woods, detailing nature with a keen eye. At the same time, he depicts nature as untamed, and at times violent. While the woods harbor something sinister, there is an overarching ethic that this is the way things should be. I got the sense I was reading a pairing of Richard Laymon and Henry David Thoreau. Nothing is promised our protagonists, least of all safety. If anything, the encroachment of humans is the real interloper—that and one other interloper to be encountered at the book’s conclusion.
Some passages in the book recall the words of Robert E Howard. I got flashbacks to stories like “The Devil in Iron.” Even Caudel reminded me of King Conan in “The Phoenix on the Sword.” One passage recalled Howard most vividly:
A pendulum of might and madness, it swung amongst the pines, a black shadow of fur and claws and eyes that burned with molten evil.
Berry continues to display mastery over myriad horror aesthetics. He weaves his tales with unstoppable forward momentum. The “something goes bump in the woods” novel of the year.
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