Body/cosmic/folk horror isn’t really my thing, I don’t think, but Andy Davidson’s The Hollow Kind is still an entertaining, albeit slow (until the last 50 or so pages) read.

Nellie and her young son, Max, have fled their lives and headed for Georgia, to the rural property left to her by her grandfather, August Redfern. Nellie’s husband, Wade, is abusive and Nellie was desperate to get away, so even though the property is dilapidated, Nellie is certain they can be quite happy there.

What Nellie doesn’t really understand is the property’s dark history, which began in 1917 when August, not a native southerner, meets George Baxter and then his daughter, Euphemia, who becomes August’s wife. Euphemia’s dowery is 1000 acres of woodland. George tells August:

Roots go deeper here than you ight imagine, August. Appease them and you’ll recoup your money soon enough. I promise you that. In these woods, there’s no end to the riches a man can now.

Unfortunately, August doesn’t know the half of it.

Davidson’s novel moves back and forth between Nellie and Max in 1989 and August and his young family in 1917-23. We are also privy to a short period of time that Nellie spent with her grandfather at Redfern Hill when she was a teenager, which I guess helps us to understand why he would have left the property to her. Although it is clearly obvious that the property is not quite right and any sane person would not even consider staying there, Nellie is between a rock and a hard place. She has no place else to go.

There is menace at every turn for Nellie and Max. Wade is still out there. George Baxter’s grandson, Lonnie, is desperate to get the property back and he is a nasty piece of work, and then there’s the house and property. The first sight of the house fills Max with dread.

…the old house rearing up before them has teeth, claws, is a thing alive. A dragon in the midst of a long slumber. It sees us. A fresh sweat springs out beneath his clothes. Above the roof, bats loose themselves like stones from slings.

The history of Redfern Hill is complicated and gruesome. It takes a long time to get where it’s going, but if you don’t mind the meandering pace, there’s lots to like about this book.