I don’t know about you, but we’re having a bit of a heatwave here in Maryland. That is not how I want to feel going into the spooky season! Luckily for me, Hildur Knútsdóttir transported me to Reykjavík for a chilling ride in The Night Guest. Translated beautifully by Mary Robinette Kowal, this novella follows Iðunn through the mystery of her increasing fatigue. My biggest complaint? That my stay in Iceland wasn’t longer; I finished this read in under twenty-four hours. But I can’t really count that as a fault, this tale was effectively concise. You can see for yourself when it arrives from Tor Nightfire on September 3rd.
From the start, Knútsdóttir sucks you in. Iðunn is tired and no one takes her concerns seriously. We meet her in yet another doctor’s office, hoping for answers once again. Her desperation bleeds off the page. I was reminded of a scene in Grady Hendrix’s The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires: the distinct fear of a woman who does not think she will be believed. That scene sold me on Hendrix, and it sold me immediately on Knútsdóttir, too. The recommendations of her friends and family: diet, exercise, routine, etc, managed to convey a humorous tone even through the frustration. I was endeared.
The Night Guest could have stayed a medical horror story and I probably would have stayed hooked, but I am so glad it wasn’t. Because Iðunn is desperate, and her tests are still indicating nothing but health, she tries some of those suggestions. One of these is a high-tech watch with a step counter built in to make sure she is getting in her ten thousand steps every day. I don’t read descriptions for books often, so what resulted from that watch caught me off guard. I’m relieved it is stated, though, because I want to talk about it. It’s a perfect example of Knútsdóttir’s handling of suspense.
What happens is this: Iðunn wakes up to see she walked over 40,000 steps in the night. Seeing that number was so creepy and effective. Like the PSI counter in Daniel Kraus’ Whalefall, a normal numeric function of technology is given so much weight. Here is proof that something is going on. Except Iðunn doesn’t believe it. She thinks it’s a glitch. That allows the story room to breathe. There is a balance in a horror story where you have to give your readers enough to keep them invested, but you can’t tip your hand too soon. At some point you’ll cross a point of no return. Mistrusting the watch means there was more time before the inevitable.
That time was spent fleshing out not just Iðunn’s character, but also those around her. We get to see her at work. We get to see her relationship with her family and learn about what happened to her sister. We get to see her date someone who knew that sister. We get to watch her symptoms worsen and affect every interaction. It’s a masterclass in dread. This is why I couldn’t put the book down. I was captivated, curious, and concerned.
The Night Guest is what I want from a novella. No fat to trim—it’s compelling from start to finish. It blends real-life relatable fears with the elements of a haunting. The characters and the city itself feel grounded. That believability gives you permission to embrace the increasingly unsettling events. This is the only one of Hildur Knútsdóttir’s works that has been released in English. I dearly hope it will not be the last.
Images courtesy of publisher.
Have strong thoughts about this piece you need to share? Or maybe there’s something else on your mind you’re wanting to talk about with fellow Fandomentals? Head on over to our Community server to join in the conversation!
