The folks at Quirk Books have always had a knack for finding fascinating riffs on horror stories—and the publisher's latest offering, The Unmothers, is no exception. Though it's technically a debut novel, author Leslie J. Anderson has previously published a book of poetry. When she takes that ripe talent for twisting language and applies it to the evocative folk horrors of rural America, the results are genuinely gripping. The Unmothers will inevitably draw (well-deserved) comparisons to the critically acclaimed HBO series Mare of Easttown, and not just because of the horse reference in the title.
The basic setup for The Unmothers is simple enough: a down-on-her-luck reporter named Marshall is forced to take an out-of-town assignment to cover the rumors of a horse that gave birth to a human baby. Naturally, there's more to the story than the teenage boy who may-or-may-not have fucked the horse is letting on. Marshall struggles to ingratiate herself into a close-knit community riddled with opioids, poverty, and teenage pregnancy while also struggling with her demons.
It's a fairly traditional setup for a noir-esque thriller—minus the horse-fucking, of course. From the start, Marshall makes her skepticism clear: this has to be a joke, right? This is another teenage pregnancy that some scared kids are hiding from their dumbass podunk parents, right?
That question lingers throughout the entire book, and that's a testament to Anderson's prowess with prose. She pulls you along for two-hundred-plus pages of moody, atmospheric horror—that Lovecraftian chill of some indescribable darkness lurking just beyond the shadows—and keeps you wondering whether this is a case of teenage pregnancy or of actual teenage horse-fucking; or if it's an ancient, primal force, some inexplicable entity that exists deep within the dirt itself.
That makes for such a scintillating journey. I was gripped the entire time, eagerly looking for any excuse to continue reading just to figure out whether this was Lovecraftian horror or horse-dong porn.
Anderson cleverly holds that mystery over your head and uses it to tell a gripping, grounded yarn about the forgotten corners of the country, the pains of pregnancy and motherhood, and, yes, the raw, majestic beauty of horses. In many ways, The Unmothers works as a thoughtful and timely exploration of abortion access in the red rural pockets of Middle America.
But Anderson eschews lecturing or easy answers in favor of nuance, complexity, and brutal folk horror. She uses words to paint powerful imagery, whether it's the beautiful violence of a horse giving birth, the physical pains of pregnancy, or the sadly sweet release of opioid addiction. And those visceral details will haunt you as much as the maybe-ethereal horse demon spirit things will.
The Unmothers [Leslie J. Anderson / Quirk Books]
