Horns

Ig Perrish is the well-meaning son of a successful musician and the brother of a famous late-night TV host. But when his girlfriend Merrin Williams turns up raped and murdered, he becomes the number-one suspect. A year after the gruesome killing, and Ig is still a free man albeit one with a serious problem. A pair of unsightly horns has grown on his head, and they’ve given him the ability to hear the darkest secrets of anyone he touches. Armed with this newfound power, Ig sets out to find out who killed Merrin and exact revenge.

Joe Hill’s second novel is an odd mix of blasphemous theology, pitch black comedy, Kafka-esque body horror, and gritty noir. Those disparate elements don’t always blend seamlessly, but for the most part, Horns makes for an enticing read.

For a novel that has so many of them, it is fortunate that Hill is a master of moods. When Horns goes for uncomfortable humor – a priest involuntarily confessing to an affair with a grieving widow, a pair of macho police officers duped into confessing feelings for one another, and so on – it’s wickedly ribald. On the other hand, in its more somber moments as the narrative weaves through Ig’s memories of Merrin, it projects a profound sense of loss. And when Ig’s transformation intensifies and he gets closer to the truth, Horns evokes a sense of terror that would make Hill’s father (Stephen King, for those unaware) proud.

Just as Horns showcases many moods, it also offers many perspectives. The nonlinear narrative shifts from present to past (and occasionally from character to character), unlocking a different piece of the puzzle with each new vantage point. While this approach demands patience, it also allows the characters to be known intimately. And in the case of the book’s antagonist, it shines some much-needed light on motivations.

Ironically, the horns themselves might be the weakest thing about this book. As a plot device, the powers they grant are necessary, but the nonplussed reaction characters have to them is frustratingly never explained. Further, the theological awakening that accompanies Ig’s physical transformation – that only the devil appreciates humans for their faults – makes for a muddled message. If everyone has the devil inside him, then why was Ig, of all people, chosen to get the horns?

These minor faults aside, Horns tells a captivating tale in a unique way. The mash-up of genres and the frequent mood shifts will alienate some but will be a hell of a good read for many others.

8.25/10