Philip Fracassi

This is a very raw, very honest and, I believe, very real look at someone who's suffered a catastrophic loss and is flailing in an ocean of depression and PTSD, desperately trying to find something to hang on to.

I found the rollercoaster ride of Peter's inner thoughts as he went through stressful moments...asking someone out, trying to choose a drink and instead panicking, trying to get out his own way to just allow himself to experience some pleasure...all of these were terrifyingly on point.

I've been a somewhat less damaged version of this guy.

This is not a feel good book. This is not a happy book. This is an unblinking look into a couple of weeks in the life of a very broken person.… (mer)

Philip Fracassi was a new-to-me author in the horror genre, but after reading his Boys in the Valley I intend to keep him on my radar, because I found this story’s blend of supernatural horror and introspection into the human soul quite engaging.

The novel starts with a tragedy, a terrifying murder/suicide which turns young Peter into an orphan: in the next chapter we meet him a few years later, one of the children relegated to St. Vincent’s orphanage, a bleak institution set in a remote corner of Pennsylvania, in the early years of the 20th Century. If orphanages are not “happy places” by definition, life in St. Vincent is decidedly grim: the boys are ruled by the harsh hand of Father Poole, an individual more inclined toward dogma than compassion, and their hard labor in the fields surrounding the institution is rewarded with little food and even less creature comforts. Those who don’t follow the rules to the letter are often punished with a stay in the dreaded “hole”, a penance devised by Brother Johnson, a former prison inmate sent into Father Poole’s care to amend his many sins. For Peter, the only light in such darkness comes from the friendship with some of his fellow orphans and the one with Father Andrew, who sees in the young man the potential for a future priest and is schooling the youngster toward that goal, although Peter is torn between dedicating his life to God and the strong affection he feels for Grace, the daughter of a nearby farmer.

The monotonous dreariness of life in St. Vincent is broken one night when the local sheriff and his deputies knock on the orphanage’s door asking for help: they carry a grievously wounded man who also shows signs of delirious madness and soon Father Poole understands that something evil is afoot and decides to perform an exorcism. The inevitable death of the wounded man is not the end of the story however, since the following day sees an ominous change slowly spreading among the children: furtive, defiant glances lead to whispered conversation among small groups of the youngsters, and soon enough terror and death spread through St. Vincent like wildfire….

The increasing sense of foreboding that drives this story is handled with admirable skill and timing, since the author does not feel any need to prolong unnecessarily the sense of dread that becomes palpable with each turn of the page: what makes the horror element very effective is the sense that we are dealing with something resembling an infection, a disease that attaches itself to the more predisposed subjects and takes root with little or no opposition. It’s not difficult to see how the demon-inspired violence that erupts within the walls of St. Vincent is certainly sparked by the possession, but it must be also stressed that it finds a welcoming, fertile soil in the simmering resentment of the children, whose situation in the orphanage is just one step removed from outright abuse - and in some cases goes even beyond that. The physical isolation of the orphanage, set in a desolate valley, and the violent snowstorm that further segregates the small community from the rest of the world, enhance the claustrophobic sense of terror that pervades the story and lets the reader know that there might not be any help for the unaffected children and their wardens, turning the novel into a breath-stopping experience that makes it next to impossible to put down the book.

Despite the darkness of the tale, I enjoyed the author’s depiction of his characters, the way he can convey their personalities and their backstory with a few, well-placed brush strokes: of course Peter is front and center, and his very human struggle between the calling of the priesthood and the mundane attraction for Grace is pictured with great sensibility. Given the tragedy that informs his past, and his present living conditions, he had to grow up quickly, but still he is able to maintain a form of childish innocence that quickly endeared him to me, particularly where the author describes his unquenchable thirst for the stories narrated in the books Grace lends him - a bookworm always understands another, even a fictional one…

Peter’s natural complement is his friend David: a bit more cynical than Peter, still he’s capable of great acts of generosity and courage that will become more evident as the situation in the orphanage turns tragic. Being among the oldest, while still being young teens, they both feel responsible for the younger children and it’s easy to see how their basic decency makes it easy for the little ones to trust them both and accept their lead. The microcosm of St. Vincent almost becomes a test site for human behavior under stress and terror, and the author conveys the disparate emotions and reactions with believable accuracy.

As far as negative characters go, where Father Poole is an almost two-dimensional figure, his coldness and arrogance immediately placing him among the “bad guys”, I quite enjoyed the more nuanced depiction of Brother Johnson: even though we are made aware of his violent past and of the contemptuous harshness with which he deals with the children, there are several instances in which his humanity tries to assert itself over the darkness of his soul, even more so once the demonic “infection” has taken him over, conferring to his character an intriguing depth that was as fascinating as it was unexpected given its premises.

Boys in the Valley is a quick, compelling read that surprised me with its intensity and the way it drew me into the narrative, one whose outcome is uncertain until the very end, where the author surprised me with what seemed to me a quite sudden close and a very unexpected narrative choice that saddened me but did not diminish my appreciation for this story.… (mer)

My favorite horror book is The Exorcist. I’ve read My Best Friends Exorcism, Come Closer, Goddess of Filth, The Omen (I think this counts for the sub genera), basically a few in the posession category. This novel was so different with its approach to posession and how the evil powers were played out. The other basic elements were still there: play on the innocent, major inner battles, doubt, sins and self hate and of course the religious just. I really enjoyed the different point of views and the inner monologues. This book was written well, without the recent trend of nautious regurgitateion of information. The chosen characters has entertaining builds and the pacing was very tasteful, as was the chosen violence (not grossly overdone and potent enough to keep that unsettling vibe going strong). This story spoke to me and I enjoyed it thoroughly and happy to have found another favorite,
I guess this really is my sub genera… (mer)

Gotta say, when I started this, I wasn't really sure whether I was going to enjoy it. But it pretty much starts with a bang, then changes gears, and then moves into a whole other story.

And then it does that again.

If I'm being honest, there's far more going on in this novel than there really should be...and yet, Fracassi's skill shines through, because man, he makes it all WORK.

I say this a lot, and I'll say it again here, this is a novel that's better to go into not knowing much, because half the fun is the bonkers plot that Fracassi intricately weaves, then throws at you.

I read this novel in four big gulps, and those last 150 pages? Yeah, couldn't put it down.

Absolutely fantastic.… (mer)