As he does every year, according to an age-old custom, the man in the field arrives amid much rejoicing and apprehension. To sanctify the newly planted crops and ensure a productive harvest, the village must make a personal sacrifice in his name. This is the tradition that must be honored. For every blessing, there is a debt to be paid . . .
Mother Tanner, an older member of the village, has seen all this before. She has been born and raised in the shadow of these harsh solemnities and feels increasingly disturbed by them. Celebrating the Turning of the Wheel and exalting in God’s bounty is only half the story; there is much here that she is starting to distrust. Not least of which is Father Lynch himself and his beloved Council. And the enigmatic man in the field, who gazes not at the village, but at the distant horizon, thinking only of the overdue debt and the stroke of midnight when it will be time to collect . . .
The author states that the short story from which this book originally springs was a tribute to Shirley Jackson. I think she would have been honored, and I was strongly reminded of her story The Lottery as I dove into these pages. He also says that this may not be all there is, or all there will be to this story. That may explain why I am left with questions that I hope will be answered someday.
Who are these people? When are these people? Where are these people? What made them come here and what makes them stay?
I have no idea! The descriptions of the women and how they are dressed had me picturing them in my mind like something out of Little House On The Prairie. The villagers keep to themselves and the outside world is shunned. They live what seems to be a very primitive lifestyle, but in modern times, with superstition cloaked in religion. There is running hot water, indoor plumbing, and fragrant bath salts, but no phone, internet, or tv. It seemed more like a cult than a community, in that the leaders do as they please while preaching strict rules at everyone else.
I have no idea! The descriptions of the women and how they are dressed had me picturing them in my mind like something out of Little House On The Prairie. The villagers keep to themselves and the outside world is shunned. They live what seems to be a very primitive lifestyle, but in modern times, with superstition cloaked in religion. There is running hot water, indoor plumbing, and fragrant bath salts, but no phone, internet, or tv. It seemed more like a cult than a community, in that the leaders do as they please while preaching strict rules at everyone else.
Once a year The Man In The Field arrives, and as is his custom he stands there, feet planted firmly in the earth, face turned away from everyone. Nobody has ever seen his face, but they know that he demands a sacrifice, in return for which they will receive a bountiful harvest. Some people view this as a time to rejoice. There will be festivities and a feast to mark the occasion. Others face it with mixed feelings of fear and resolve. Our main character, Mother Tanner, and a few of her friends have started to feel that there is a definite wrongness in their way of life
I had a dreadful feeling when I suspected what the sacrifice was likely going to be, but that did not make it any less upsetting when it occurred. Horror, for me, is always at its best when it can stir up emotions and make me feel something. I don't need blood or gore, but I need someone to care about and someone to hate. The Man In The Field delivered that in spades. I was upset, I was enraged, I was gut-punched and disgusted. I felt at times hopeful for my favorite characters one minute and terrified for them the next.
The ending left me with more questions than I had when I started, yet I loved this book so much that I have to give it a 5 out of 5 stars. Even if I do hope the author will be haunted by dreams of Mother Tanner until he is inspired to write a sequel.
My thanks to Cemetery Dance Publications for the advance copy.
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