The year is 1890 and Alex Easton is a retired soldier who gets an invitation to visit his childhood friends, the Usher twins, Rodrick and Madeline. Madeline is sick and requires assistance.
Alex goes to the House of Usher which appears to be in the midst of an eerily poisonous forest, and comes across Miss Potter, a pleasantly English mycologist.
At the House of Usher, the twins both are extremely thin and sickly, Madeline looking worse off and being treated by an American doctor, Denton.
Alex roams the grounds of Usher and comes across strange hares, note the cover, Madeline grows more ill.
Madeline eventually passes away and is moved to the family crypt, and clues of Madeline’s previous behavior come to light. Her catalepsy and habit of talking to herself in different voices is observed.
Later, the crypt door is found to open, and Madeline's body missing.
After confrontation, Madeline reveals she has been affected by a fugus called the tarn, the same fungus present throughout the grounds and in the hares, and she has adopted the tarn as her child.
Outraged and convinced of Madeline's hysteria, Rodrick locks Madeline away and burns the house down, killing the tarn and the House of Usher in its entirety.
"It is cliché to say that a building's windows look like eyes because humans will find faces in anything and of course the windows would be the eyes" (pg. 8).
"He wore his clothes as if theywere clothes rather than symbols of rank, and his mustache was too long for fashion" (pg. 17).
"I looked back down, at a lake full of stars" (pg. 65).
"His voice had that light veneer of humor that we all get, because if we don't pretend we're laughing, we might have to admit just how broken we are" (pg. 90).
"Maddy was dead and it had been inevitable and yet it made no sense at all" (pg. 95).
"'The animal is femlae,' siad Denton dispassionately. And if it were human, would it be diagnosed with hysterical catalepsy?" (pg. 120).
"We did noty run. If we ran then we would have to admit there was something to run from. If we ran, then the small child that lives in every soldier's heart knew that the monsters could get us. So we did not run, but it was a near thing" (pg. 137).
"How could I possibly have known she would trath the fungus like a child?" (pg. 144).
"The dead my walk but I will not walk among them" (pg. 145).
"What was I, when I was alive? I was no use to anyone, least of all myself. I was a pretty doll for my mother to dress u and for men to look at, and then she died and eventually I cam here, where there were no men to look at me. And at last, I found a purpose" (pg. 146).
4 stars - I hated the ending.
The Fall of the House of Usher, by Poe by Mario Jodra
Find more of his work here
It's rare I discount from a book's quality simply because of the actual plot itself - I usually respect the story in itself, and it’s the execution that doesn't satisfy. And while four stars still shows off a very good book, I can say that for the very fact of the plot, the conclusion, it cannot be a perfect five stars. However, and I usually find star ratings to be reductive in a not so useful way, there is more to this book than my prescribe ed four-star status.
Firstly, this book is based on Edgar Allen Poe's short story, The Fall of the House of Usher, and I must admit I did not read the short story until after I had finished What Moves the Dead. I don't see myself well equipped enough to review Kingfisher's novel as an interpretation of Poe's story, so will instead review it as a work by itself. Though I do highly recommend anyone who enjoyed What Moves the Dead to read The Fall of the House of Usher if they have not done so already. And now, onward.
In my interpretation of the novel, and I have a lurking suspicion the author wouldn't agree with me, there exists an important theme of motherhood in Madeline's character. It's not something Kingfisher mentions in the Author's Note, and from how the story ended, I would think, she might disagree with the emphasis I place here on motherhood. Believing this may have dissuaded me from including this interpretation in my review at all, but a writer's work is more than just the writer's intent of the story, it exists then independently of "authorial intent." So, I shall proceed with my notions.
The trope of human being infected by fungi I don't think has ever been subverted this cleverly. Madeline is infected by what is referred to as the tarn and with the pronoun va and while the fungus does kill her, she adopts a maternal role to it. The function of this action is, I think, a beautiful demonstration of mother's love. Madeline sees the fungus as it truly is, harmless, immature, helpless, and appropriately responds by nourishing it with her body. That the two other characters, representing classic patriarchal, societal views, see Madeline's actions as hysterical, and in turn, Madeline, as hysterical, is not a testament to Madeline's character at all, but the source from which such views are brought on. While the narrator is non-binary, they come from the military and present male, and while they slightly escape some male attributes, the difference is not noticeable enough to exclude them from the common patriarchy. Now, I do understand that a woman treating a fungus like a child is a bit odd, but I firmly believe that a character who were a mother, or even a woman, would see the situation and intuitively understand that it is not a choice to act in such a way. Just like when a mother looks at her baby, she does not choose to love them, she simply cannot do otherwise. And at being shown that the fungus has a conscience mind of its own, can communicate and think and, most importantly, need, Madeline cannot help but see the tarn as a baby of some sorts. What confuses and perhaps enrages the two onlookers on Madeline's situation most is her insistence of sacrificing herself for the survival of the tarn, but again, it is an act that could never be understood by those who don't enjoy motherhood, much less parenthood. And this is true for many acts of motherhood. I think of Toni Morrison's Beloved, where a mother killed her own child in order to protect them from a life of enslavement - an act that, arguably, came most significantly from a place of love. Motherhood is so complicated, and a mother's love has rarely been properly understood by popular media, nor the patriarchy. Nor is it understood by the two characters, Rodrick and Alex, as evidenced by their narration and murder of the tarn. This is a tragedy.
I found Alex's own character to be much less worthy of analysis than Madeline, though still interesting. Kingfisher really created, and I hate to say this as it's such a non-adjective, singular character. Meaning, they are one and their own. Even the trope of closeted veteran is eluded here. Alex is an upright figure, curious and suspicious, and most amusingly, funny. The novel, for the most part, has a very good sense of humor, which I especially appreciate. The humor is quite English in its dryness and specificity, and is therefore a bit snobbish in nature, but was still expertly included. Alex, as they are the narrator, makes very many wise cracks that still don't take away from the graveness of the story.
From the adoration that may be gleaned for mothers and motherhood as a subject, it may be obvious that I hated the ending. I think my exact notes in the book were, Fuck you sexist American pig, as well as some worse insults. Suffice to say I did not enjoy the last couple chapters. All in all, however, the book is very good, and for a novelization, is quite original.