A Beautifully Transformative Review of "Horns"
Why can I not find this masterpiece in any UK bookshops?? It deserves way more recognition #justiceforJoeHill 🤘
“If you were going to live in hell on earth, there was something to be said for being one of the devils.”
5 stars, no notes: the King family has an unearthly grasp on my soul and I would die for them.
** This review contains spoilers**
Book: Horns by Joe Hill, 2010.
I’ll start this review off with the disclaimer that Stephen King is undoubtedly my favourite author of all time - his books hit every single time, the characters are unmatched and no other author’s writing draws me in the way his does.
I therefore had mixed expectations when starting Horns - as Stephen King’s son, Joe Hill had some really high standards to meet. My flatmate recommended me this book, and coming from her (who rarely reads horror or thrillers) this was not a suggestion to take lightly. Joe Hill has tried his hardest to set himself apart from his father’s image, and I honestly think he has done so beautifully. No part of this book screamed Stephen King to me (and I don’t say this in a bad way); it had a really authentic, unique feel to it. From the writing style to the symbolism to the plot execution, everything felt fresh and individualistic and ardently real - a book that defines you as an author, a book to be proud of. This is not a happy book, but it is an honest one, a beautifully painful read that becomes a twisted version of a coming of age somewhere along the way.
I absolutely loved how this book was paced - the overarching plot being one straight line interrupted by long periods of flashbacks taking place at just the right time to explain a character’s motives, personality, or relationship with the narrator, Ig. The flashback describing Ig’s budding friendship with Lee is sweet and innocent, a connection forming between two young boys - this feeling is starkly contrasted by the next flashback which takes place from Lee’s point of view and reveals what a twisted, disturbed individual he is. These interruptions in plot provide the reader with crucial context without feeling overwhelmed or confused in relation to the storyline - this was a seamless way to develop the characters and gives the book some real depth and meaning.
Ig’s character was written so well and immediately causes the reader to sympathise with him: knowing the darkest thoughts and urges of everyone you come across sounds like a living nightmare. This sympathy grows into heart-wrenching sadness as he experiences his family’s hatred, his parents being disgusted by their own son and believing him to be guilty despite everything, wishing to never see him again. Ig’s brutal exposure to his new power is devastating, yet he quickly realises he can use it for his true purpose - to solve Merrin’s murder and exact his revenge. Does he sometimes abuse his power for his own gain? Yes, but honestly who can blame him after all he’s been through and what haunts him? He basically turns into Satan - the devil can’t exactly be a solid, moral guy.
However grey Ig’s character is, he is overall a ‘good’ person who is just desperate for some closure. Lee’s character, on the other hand, is evil incarnate - the true devil of this story. Outwardly a good Christian man with a solid career and a stable social circle, the chapters from Lee’s point of view are downright despicable. His characterisation is really interesting - the fall and concussion he endured as a child caused Lee to develop a lack of emotions and empathy, replacing them with psychopathic tendencies. He befriends Ig who reveres him as a friend and a hero for supposedly saving his life, and studies Ig as much as he can in order to learn his mannerisms, reactions and personality. This is how Lee builds his own character, hiding his psychopathy by dissecting normal interactions and mimicking the attitude of his best friend, whom he deduces to be the kindest person he knows.
The chapters from Lee’s perspective are an extremely tough read: the descriptions of him torturing his own mother while she dies from dementia are particularly hard to stomach, but they are extremely effective in describing exactly what kind of monster Lee is. These chapters are Lee at his worst, depicting his inhumanity as he slowly ramps up his mother’s pain and suffering for his own morbid curiosity - how far can he push her until her body finally gives up, and how far can his own cruelty go?
Turns out it can go very far: Lee’s insanity finally fully comes to light when we find out that he was chasing after Merrin because his twisted brain viewed friendly behaviour as romantic signals: Merrin was never attracted to him, never wanted to be with him at all - he just saw what he wanted to see, wanted her to want him so he could have free rein to use her as he pleased. When she turns down his advances in shock following her and Ig’s breakup, he becomes enraged, strangling her and violating her body.
Lee sees Merrin (and all women) as an object, a thing to own and play with before discarding it after it has been broken in. Ig, on the other hand, worshipped the ground Merrin walked on, believing she could do no wrong, seeing her as more than a person, a perfect being who could never make a mistake. In this way both Ig and Lee never saw Merrin as who she truly was: just a girl with her own thoughts, goals and emotions. In terms of actual feminism, the difference between Ig and Lee is monumental: Ig’s chapters often empowered and praised women (his descriptions of Merrin and Glenna were always positive and he saw the best in them) while Lee’s chapters were downright obscene and portrayed women as nothing more than brainless sex objects.
The religious and feminist overtones in this book were so well executed and fit into the story without being overly emphasised or jarring. A key scene in this book is Ig’s sermon to the snakes about how women and Satan have always been intertwined, are both adversaries to God. Ig rejects God for letting Merrin, a devout Christian, get raped and murdered, and declares that Satan is at least an intervening force on Earth while God is indifferent. This is the true beginning of Ig’s journey, when he finally accepts his transformation and reshapes his religious views to fits his new beliefs. The fact that Ig dresses as a woman in his blue skirt is a fun tidbit on the surface which actually slots into his sermon's point very nicely: he, as a devil, symbolically becomes a woman, the forces of hell and femininity culminating to grant him his revenge and allow him to get closure. This transformation is the beginning of Ig’s coming of age, his physical and emotional states reconciling his new identity to give him the tools he needs to carry out his revenge.
While Merrin is not alive during the course of this book, we find out more and more about her until the story culminates into its biggest twist: Merrin broke up with Ig because she secretly had cancer and couldn’t bear to put him through all that pain. The letter she wrote Ig was absolutely devastating and I could not stop crying - she loved him enough to let him believe she didn’t want him anymore, and she respected herself too much to let him push her into doing chemotherapy, which she had decided she did not want to do. She couldn’t let herself become a miserable, hateful person like her sister, couldn’t bear to let the people around her see her in such states. Throughout Ig’s story it is really his love for Merrin that spurs him on, that pushes him to find her killer so they could both finally rest easy.
The Treehouse of the Mind was a really fascinating plot line and, as confusing as it was, reconciled all parts of the plot in a neat little package. Lucifer’s treehouse provides people with exactly what they need: when they were younger, it gave Merrin and Ig a private place to express their love and further grow their relationship. When Ig needed to find Merrin’s killer and get his revenge, he finds the treehouse again, interrupting his younger self with Merrin; the treehouse then turns him into a devil able to uncover people’s darkest secrets, leading him to Lee. When Ig, finally satisfied after avenging Merrin and getting his closure, returns to the treehouse one last time, the treehouse gives him Merrin back, allowing them to be together again in the afterlife. This was feasibly the only happy ending for Ig - he was never going to survive, but at least he really did go to a better place.
Terry my sweet angel you are the purest character in this book! Throughout the whole book Ig was so scared of touching Terry, of finding out that the one person who was always on his side, who always vouched for him and never showed him any animosity, would be harbouring some deep dark secret that would ruin their relationship forever. Ig finally has to touch him in the end, desperately trying to save him from the snake venom which is working its way through his body at an alarming pace. What does he see? Terry putting gum in Ig’s hair as a child. Terry cheating on a test. Terry becomes the only character in the story to have truly pure intentions (apart from not having told Ig about the night of Merrin’s murder due to Lee’s blackmail). I loved this little detail at the end of the book, the horns offering Ig a final revelation that not everyone is corrupted and harbouring despicable urges, that there is still some good in this world.
The book’s title is of course relating to the horns Ig grows on his head, but horns have been with Ig his entire life. His father played the trumpet, and so did he and his brother. While Ig was never able to play properly due to asthma, he kept desperately practicing, even without blowing the horn, desperate to get to his brother’s level. He was always jealous of Terry for his musical talent, and hated that even Merrin was impressed by Terry’s trumpeting. Horns have haunted Ig for as long as he can remember, a constant reminder that he was not good enough - similarly to his feeling inadequate following the breakup with Merrin. The horns being the satanic feature that Ig develops is an allusion to his past, his old insecurity becoming a symbol of power and resilience, a weapon to be manipulated the way he never could quite master with his old horn. At the end of the book Ig carries Terry’s trumpet with him into the treehouse, a metaphor for his own self-acceptance and a shedding of his past, readying him for the next stage of his existence, free of jealousy, guilt and resentment. His purpose has been achieved and he can finally relinquish all worldly insecurities and fears, ready for an eternity of peace with Merrin.
This was such a beautifully moving tale of love and loss, religion and rebellion, faith and feminism. A real show-stopper from Joe Hill, a book which I am already mentally comparing other thrillers to. There were so many layers to this book, and I suspect that the more I reread this story, the more details I will uncover. Read this no matter who you are - I promise it will stick with you!