Review: The Silent Companions

It would’ve been ideal to get around to all of my horror reviews before the end of October, but I want to incorporate more horror into my regular reading anyway, so I suppose reviewing out of season is a good warm-up! Whether you’re waiting for next Halloween or ready for more spooks right away, I highly recommend adding Laura Purcell’s The Silent Companions to your list!

In the novel, Elsie is visited by a new doctor in the mental hospital where she’s been living for several months. He reminds her that she arrived at the hospital under questionable circumstances, and announces that the police are asking him to help clear up the mystery of what happened that day. There are only a few ways this new inquest can turn out- in a death sentence for the crime that Elsie might have committed, in a transfer to a more permanent asylum, or in her release from suspicion and medical observation. Elsie doesn’t think the doctor will believe her frightening, supernatural story, and she certainly doesn’t want to recount it, but telling the tale seems like her best option. As the doctor’s investigation progresses, we delve deeper into Elsie’s memories leading up to the tragic night that left several people dead and a grand house in ruins.

“Until then I am stuck with our misbegotten companions. I cover their faces with sheets but I know they are there, watching. As if they know what has happened. As if it amuses them.”

This story is told in three time lines; the “present” moment at St. Joseph’s hospital, the events of 1865 at the familial home called The Bridge (taking place about a year before the hospital scenes), and an account from a diary found at The Bridge from the year 1635. Thus the entire story is historically set, lending The Silent Companions the feel of an old classic, minus the stuffy writing. The narration shifts back and forth between the three chronologies, each fitting neatly into the next as the characters read and discuss the diary in 1865 and then Elsie narrates that history to the doctor.

The 1635 sections appealed to me the least because I found most of the characters in that timeline unpleasant, and there’s not as much forward motion in the plot until the end of that segment. Even so, each of the story lines engaged me and flowed well enough from one to the next that I was never disappointed to reach the end of the chapter and come to the next narrative shift.

The story follows a woman in a mental hospital with a tragic past, yes, but I haven’t even mentioned the horror aspect yet: the silent companions themselves. Silent companions are life-sized art pieces- paintings of people that are not framed, but free-standing, meant to appear as though a real person is present in the room. Elsie finds one when she moves into The Bridge. And then she finds more. They appear in the diary entries from 1635 as well. There seems to be something sinister about them. Perhaps their eyes might follow the characters across the room. Perhaps they tend to be found in places they weren’t left. Perhaps there is something they want from the living.

” ‘We should sleep in the same room from now on. I don’t feel safe alone.’ Elsie nodded. She did not ask what Sarah meant by alone. No one was truly alone. Not ever, not in this house.”

Whether or not you will enjoy this book will probably depend on whether the supernatural element surrounding the silent companions appeals to you at all. I think you’ll know fairly well ahead of time whether you are willing to suspend your disbelief for potentially animated paintings with an agenda of their own. For readers willing to accept this aspect of the story, everything else follows beautifully: the discourse about women’s agency (or lack thereof) in these historical periods; the fine line between madness and experiencing something that cannot be neatly explained; the gothic tone and foreshadowing that give the old house its own sort of presence. Almost everything about this story is unsettling, and the ending- a masterpiece of inevitability and surprise- is particularly haunting in its implications. It’s clear this story was written by a woman, with subtle hints of modern perspective woven throughout- there’s plenty of focus on the challenges women have faced throughout history, in childhood, in marriage, in business, in parenthood, and in running a house. Best of all, Purcell’s writing is clear and vivid, capturing the reader’s attention with astute characterization and dramatic imagery immediately and refusing to let go.

“Did evil have wants and needs? Surely not, surely that would make it too human. No longer a tug from the depths of the abyss, but something sentient that could surface in anyone. In her. ‘Perhaps the evil is seeking something.’ Sarah’s breath came hot against her skin. ‘Seeking… a more permanent host.’ “

It’s best not to know much more going in.

My reaction: 5 out of 5 stars. In case it wasn’t clear, I absolutely adored this book. Not a single complaint. Even though life was busy while I read this one, I sped through it in two days and was sad to reach the end. I’ll absolutely be reading more from this author!

Do you read horror outside of October?

 

The Literary Elephant