Review XP Black House

Although I still haven't forgiven him (No you don't, Peter Straub), I picked up a used copy of Black House, a collaboration between Straub and Stephen King, and was immediately drawn in.


Maybe because I have a particular fondness for all manner of crime TV, and maybe because I wish I was a P.I. (I literally have, in the last six months, looked into the requirements to become one), and maybe because I love sick, twisted characters (to a point), and maybe because the parallels in this book to the Dark Tower series are not simply parallels but direct intersections … I suppose I could go on and on but the point is I enjoyed this book. In fact, I enjoyed it much more than its predecessor, The Talisman. Even stopping 100 pages in to locate and read The Talisman, which took months (perhaps unnecessary, but I feel it was the right choice), I stayed immersed in the story.

The namesake doesn’t come into play until the climax, but it doesn’t disappoint. And the characters were freakin’ fantastic. I loved Henry and Dale from the get-go, and I grew to love Beezer and Doc. Jack was a mixed bag. He’s changed quite a bit as he’s aged, but as much as you may miss the 12-year-old golden child, his demeanor only makes sense given his chosen profession. The nod to Poe in the form of the madness-inducing, evil raven was an odd, but nice touch. I found myself taken with Gorg, in fact.

When I stop to think about it, the authors used an excessive amount of plot devices. The bat. The honey. The bees. D’yamba. The nearly omnipotent Big Bad who practically rolls over. Who cares. They honestly didn’t bother me all that much. I want my happy ending, for everybody. I want all the peripheral characters to live, damn it! (Thank you, gentlemen, for bucking the norm and keeping Doc alive. Much appreciated.) Never mind the actual ending, and the fact that Parkus should have easily prevented what transpired. But whatevs.

Disclaimer: There were certainly a few elements I found off-putting enough to take me out of the narrative. These included a few (not unexpected) erections, in conjunction with Burn-Burn’s recollections of child murder and cannibalism. As much as I would have preferred to stay out of his head, his POV was absolutely necessary to the story. Thus, I was able to continue. This stuff is impossible to unread, and as a parent, it stuck with me, so be warned. I’m totally blaming Straub for this element.

Goodreads 4/5 stars

J.L. Dodd