I want to start by saying that I don't cross-post reviews from The Sinister Scoop to Amazon, I write shorter, spoiler free versions for Amazon/Goodreads. So even though I don't need to make the usual disclaimer here, I wanted to share that we did get a copy from Elizabeth Broadbent to review for The Scoop. I'm always honored when we get requests, but I was especially excited because I am such a fan of her work already.
And in case my disclaimer didn't give it away, take this as your HUGE SPOILER WARNING. A spoiler-free version of this review will be coming soon to Divination Hollow Reviews, but this is a deeper analysis that gets into very specific aspects of the book. If you want to avoid spoilers, I highly recommend cycling back around to this review after you have read Blood Cypress.
With all that disclaimer-y stuff out of the way, let's dig in.
In a vacuum, I loved Blood Cypress. There were a couple things that didn't work for me, and I found it more difficult than usual not to make comparisons to other works, but I want to put a pin in all of that to just say that I do recommend the book. I loved the characters. I loved the darker themes. The psychological horror was balanced with a magical realism component that left me with just enough doubt. I think the end will linger in my mind for a long time, and that's always what I want out of any horror title.
Broadbent's biggest strength as a writer, at least in my opinion, is her sense of atmosphere. Southern horror has been on my radar a lot more in the last couple years, and she is one of the best. It's not just the scenery, it's the full examination of the conservative, misogynistic culture that runs so rampant in old swamp towns. The building tension between main character Lila and everyone else was so palpable throughout the story.
Speaking of Lila, she was incredible. Not only was she my favorite character in the sense that I agreed with and sympathized with her the most often, she also felt the most real to me. The strongest, most impactful relationships are the ones that Lila has (in both a positive and negative sense). She was a great main character in that she did feel like a driving force in the story. Even when she felt incapable of taking action in the plot, the story moved forward with her understanding of the world and our growing empathy for her.
I also have to talk about the book's very unique way of tackling it's more serious themes.
Lila throws her sexuality around in a very character defining moment as part of her breaking free and standing up for herself, declaring she's into women (as everyone already suspects). It's only later, when she's more comfortable and has more time to think about herself, that she says aloud she likes men sometimes, but not as much as women. This was such a small detail in the book but it resonated with me, and my LGBTQ+ experience (especially as part of the +). I find that I'm more inclined to make sweeping but not entirely accurate statements about myself and my preferences when I'm around people who I don't think will take me seriously because it has more impact than explaining the nuances of a very complex and personal experience. This, paired with Lila's general discomfort with labels, all felt fully realized and relatable.
The sexual assault is another theme that I thought was handled well. It wasn't graphic or gratuituous or even explicit, but it felt like a constant presence in the book. The casual way that it's joked about by some of the adults in Lila's life was chilling, and it spoke volumes before there was ever any threat of anything on page. It finally does come to a head when Lila's twin, Quentin, pins her down and expresses his desire to "protect" her. The scene is one of the harder in the books to read, but it was also one of the moments that I think best defined the sort of strength Lila has. She was able to call out that kind of behavior for what it was. Using the word became a weapon for her, and not only was that empowering, but it's a sort of ugliness that most characters can't stare down so defiantly.
I could go on for a long time about moments that I liked, but let's go ahead and take that pin out. A big issue I had in approaching this review was that I had a tough time not comparing this to other works. I try not to do that for the bulk of any review, but it is very tough to look at Blood Cypress without any influence. This is partially because I prefer Broadbent's debut, Ink Vine.
Both books are skillfully crafted and imaginative, but Ink Vine played more to my personal preferences in a way that made it feel like I was missing something. The swamp felt like a presence in both books, but it felt like an active character in Ink Vine where as it was treated as more of a distant, looming threat in Blood Cypress, and we didn't get to experience much of that until the end.
Ink Vine also had a tighter focus on its main character and was faster paced. I appreciate that Blood Cypress feels more ambitious in its themes and framing, but felt that it wasn't as well executed in its pacing or structure.
That brings me to my biggest critical complaint of the book, which is actually the framing. While I simply adored Lila as a character, I did not like Mackenzie. Despite the fact that she opens and closes the narrative, she felt like a non-entity. Her several interruptions to Lila's tale added very little, and in my opinion, made the story less immserive. They were sporadic enough that I'd forget Lila's first person chapters are actually implied to be the story she's recounting to another person, and not fleshed out enough that I felt they were necessary. I didn't like her largely because I didn't know her, but especially because I didn't like her chemistry with Lila.
My least favorite Lila moment is actually the fact that this whole tale, virtually the whole book is an answer to the prompt "Tell me why you came to Princeton." If I asked a one night stand why she came to Princeton and she recounted this entire thing, it wouldn't even be a matter of believing her or not. It would be a matter of me wanting to eventually go to sleep at some point because it's a long, long story to tell a near stranger on what I'd consider a pretty flimsy pretext. It worked against the silent, mysterious way in which she had been introduced to us before this.
"You wouldn't believe me" might be a good hook for a novella, but it felt less plausible and grounded than "because of family."
This is explained (a little) at the end, as Lila just wanting to get this story off of her chest. While I understand that, I just was never sure I bought into Lila's dynamic with Mackenzie. In comparison to Lila's other relationships, even those we see spend less time with her, it didn't read as genuine.
On paper, I do understand that Mackenzie needed to be there for the ending to land the way that it did. Her doubt (and stubbornness) ground the fantastical elements of the story more in reality, and offer a counterpoint to Lila's belief in what she has seen. I think I could have been trusted to take a first person narration with a grain of salt on my own, though I did appreciate the uncertainty that came from not seeing the apartment fire first hand.
My last complaint, such as it is, is that while I appreciated the handling of the darker themes, I prefer fiction that is unafraid to delve deeper. That is obviously a preference, but again, Blood Cypress does not exist in a vacuum. If someone were looking for a book that explores bigoted southern towns, or sexual identity, or assault, or incest, or otherworldly swamps, there are other, more focused titles that would take priority. It is impressive that a book of this length was able to touch so deftly on so many things.
If you are someone who loves southern gothic horror, or swamp horror, this is an absolute must read. If you read this and enjoyed it, I also have to recommend Ink Vine.
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