Monumental

 

Monumental is Adam Nevill’s new novel and is published by Ritual Limited. Its basic premise is of a trip into the countryside gone horribly wrong; in this instance a kayaking expedition to a “forbidden” valley – private land which includes the estuary leading onto it.

The group committing this act of trespass are Marcus, Mary, Julian, Jane, Nigel and Sophie, the latter two being a married couple. It’s fair to say that none of them are presented as being particularly nice characters, with most of them being a little too self-obsessed to form any real friendships. That said, the relationship between two of them has gone beyond mere friendship in the past – something which creates an added layer of tension on top of everything else which befalls the group.

This group dynamic echoes the one that existed in Adam’s earlier novel The Ritual of course (and which was enhanced by the film version) and, it’s fair to say, that the plot of Monumental bears similarities to that book too. It’s something Adam is well aware of, of course, and is mentioned in the author’s notes at the end of the book and I think it’s probably why he begins Monumental in exactly the same way as The Ritual with a flash forward acting as a kind of mini prologue as a nod to his constant readers.

Whereas the characters in The Ritual found themselves in a dangerous wilderness by mistake, the interlopers here have made a conscious decision to go there, which is perhaps another reflection on their personalities; arrogant and entitled with a “no one tells us what we can or can not do” attitude. I mean, you’d expect nothing less from someone called Marcus or Nigel or Julian. Although none of them wear one on the kayaking expedition, it’s highly probable that at least one of them owns a cravat. Julian even has a ponytail.

 And, of course, the kayakers find a lot more than they bargained for when they enter the valley. This being an Adam Nevill novel, expectations are high for the appearance of a good old fashioned monster and Monumental does not fail to deliver on that front. The latest addition to the pantheon of old gods lurking in the south west of England is a spectacular beast, a move away from the mammalian ancestry of the monsters in previous books to the reptilian. The location in which the action takes place is the Wyrm Valley, a name which gives a massive clue to what the creature is (as well as providing the title of my favourite Stephen Laws novel).

The parallels to The Ritual have already been mentioned but, in a nice universe-building kind of way, the other Devonian creature features get mentions, most notably The Reddening but also Cunning Folk. There’s even a – blink and you’ll miss it (ha!) – nod to Under a Watchful Eye. Having assumed that Old Creel was canine, it was a surprise to find out that The Reddening’s monster was actually a cat: a hyena. (As a dog owner this really shouldn’t have been a surprise to me though, as they are perfect creatures incapable of malice. Cats, on the other hand, are evil incarnate and so a natural choice as a monster). There’s also a nice reference to a classic line from The Night of the Demon which brought a smile to my face.

As well as the wyrm itself, the valley is populated by other monsters, the wights, whose bemasked and unmasked features grace the front and back covers of the limited edition hardback courtesy of more outstanding artistry from Samuel Araya. These are the acolytes of the worm, ancient creatures who defend the valley and its otherworldly occupant and whose diminutive stature bears no relation to their powers to terrify and cause harm. An appearance by them towards the end of chapter 25 is a hugely cinematic and nightmare-inducing scene.

There are human monsters too, of course, servants of the god as much as the wights themselves. The Reddening had Tony Willows and his family as villains and here it’s Clement Colman who takes that role. It’s not insignificant, I think, that Colman has made his fortune – thus being able to purchase the land around the Wyrm valley – from investment in and development of AI. A man with no soul in other words, one whose disregard for the creative process and art applies to his attitude towards the people with whom he surrounds himself. There’s a nice parallel I guess between the way he’s made his millions off the hard work and creativity of others and the way he’s seen fit to use the infrastructure built around the ancient worship of the Blood Worm and appropriated it as his own.

So how does Monumental exhibit the Nevillesque?

In spades is the easy answer.

The references to cosmic awe which feature heavily in Adam’s novels are exhibited here not only with regards to the monstrous worm but also to an architectural structure which features in the novel (and which is an overt influence on the book’s title). Described as kiln or cairn-like, the structure is built from stone and surrounded by a ring of timber posts. The build up to its first appearance is impeccably done with a growing sense of dread masterfully created before its ultimate reveal.

Anyone who has stumbled upon a building in the middle of woods will have experienced that atavistic uneasiness that comes with such a discovery and the descriptions of the structure in Monumental vividly recreate those feelings for the reader. Added to this is the question of what the structure actually is – or more specifically what it is used for.

Which is nothing good of course and as such it provides the location for an extended sequence which is amongst the most horrific in the book and in which more elements of the Nevillesque are on display.

The characters who find themselves trapped within the structure find themselves naked and smothered in blood, a direct correlation with the imagery of The Reddening and, of course, a use of the defining colour of Adam’s novels: red, that colour added to by the rays of the setting sun streaming through narrow portals in the building’s side.

This sequence also allows for the author’s use of some of his other trademark assaults on the senses, notably the terrible smell emanating from the structure which is noticeable even outside but so much more pronounced inside, and the lovely (if that’s the right word) use of sound with the noise of something truly awful falling from above to land at the characters’ feet.

The skeletal morphology of so many of Adam’s earlier creations as evidenced in the Blood Friends of Last Days, the Brown Man in Banquet for the Damned and Felix Hessen in Apartment 16 as well as many others is on prominent display in the morphologies of the wights.

So much happens in Monumental that it’s a surprise to realise that the events it describes occur over a time period of fifteen hours. Each chapter gives an indication of what time the action is taking place in e.g. 2-3pm and it’s a device which subliminally provides a sense of urgency to proceedings and reminds the reader that the protagonists are trapped not only by monsters both supernatural and human but also by the tide times which allow them entry and egress from the estuary.

If I’m honest, at times it felt like Monumental was a Greatest Hits compilation of Adam’s previous novels, most notably – as mentioned previously – The Ritual and The Reddening. It’s, as mentioned earlier,  something Adam acknowledges in his notes at the end of the book with this being his third “pagan horror in an outdoor setting” novel. Whilst at first I thought this might be disadvantageous to me fully enjoying the book, those fears soon proved unfounded as, once again, the sheer quality of the writing transported me to the dark places the author had created and I could wallow in the atmosphere, simultaneously rooting for, and maliciously enjoying the ordeals of, the characters.

Is it the most Nevillesque of Adam’s novels? (Taking that title from the critical mass that was The Reddening?)

Maybe.

Whatever, it’s another outstanding piece of horror fiction, packed full of imagery that lingers long after the reading is complete. Three is the magic number, and Adam has created a marvellous triumvirate of Devonian deities thus far but I’m certain that the ancient landscape which is such a strong influence on his imagination will provide the inspiration for many more.

I hope so anyway.