I received this book in a drawing from Penguin Press for Little Free Library stewards and thank them for choosing my little library.

Intrigued by the blurb of the book, I dove right in to read it and enjoyed it. It was quirky, odd and a bit out there, but was compelling reading.

The main character is an under thirty-year-old who has recently lost his father and his girlfriend has left him as well.  He has a brother and sister-in-law who are mostly estranged from him. He gets along okay with the brother but not the wife. Several passages with the two of them are fraught with tension.

The protagonist is also a writer who is trying to work on his second book. He moves into the home ostensibly to clear it out to sell it. The house is gloomy and, as the book progresses, it get more creepy and dreary.

Weird things begin to happen as soon as he moves in, starting with his skin coming off in sheets. He finds a manuscript that keeps changing each time he reads it and sees strange people in various places.

He has a good relationship with his grandmother that keeps him somewhat grounded.

It’s an odd, strangely hypnotic journey of a book. Not quite horror, not quite literary, not quite gothic, but a conglomeration of various elements of each genre.

I read it in pretty much one sitting as it was darkly mesmerizing and the pages kept turning. Almost of their own volition. 🙂

BLURB:

We meet our ill-tempered protagonist—the story’s titular “brat”—at a low moment, but not yet at rock bottom. The Gabriel of the novel is mourning the death of his father as well as a recent breakup, and struggling to finish writing his second book. Alone and aimless, he agrees to move back into his parents’ house to clear it out for sale. Here, the clichés end.

Gabriel has trouble delivering on his promise as the moldy, overgrown house deteriorates around him, so does his own health, and large sheets of his skin begin to peel from his body at a terrifying rate. In fragments and figments, Gabriel takes us on a surreal journey into the mysteries of the family home, where he finds unfinished manuscripts written by his parents which seem to mutate every time he picks them up, and a bizarre home video that hints at long-buried secrets.

Strange people and figures emerge—perhaps directly from the novel’s embedded fictions—and despite his compromised state (and his more successful brother’s growing frustration) Gabriel is determined to try to make sense of these hauntings. Part ghost story, part grief story; flirting with the autofictional mode while sitting squarely in the tradition of the gothic, Brat crackles with deadpan humor and delightfully taut prose.

Smith’s arrival heralds the next generation of fiction writers—formally inventive, influenced by the rhythms of the internet, and infused with a particularly Gen Z sense of alienation. Irreverent and boundary-pushing, but not for its own sake, the novel that follows is muscular yet lyrical, riddled with paradox, and told with a truly rare and compelling clarity of voice. Brat is a serious debut that refuses to take itself too seriously.