A friend of Thurston Howl, by the name of Hypetaph wrote his own review of The Goat. I hope you enjoy it was much as Thurston Howl’s
Minor spoilers ahead:
A stereotypical man’s man, the protagonist mechanic Frank of Kieffer’s “The Goat: Building a Perfect Victim” finds himself in yet another bout with his wife, this time with the expectation that their separation will last for good. Both relieved and mildly uncertain in his feelings, he finds himself reunited with an old classmate from high school—one he used to bully on the regular: Glenn. Through a series of violence and submission, Frank and Glenn begin a budding pseudo-relationship (“pseudo-” in the sense that Frank swears up-and-down that he is not gay), but this relationship becomes much more than Frank could have possibly anticipated.
“The Goat” takes place in a setting in which casual magic is a regular part of life: Glenn uses technomancy for his work with computers; Frank uses wards to protect his cars from rust; et cetera. That being said, it is revealed that Glenn does not feel as though he is truly himself in his body. Rather, he is actually a goat, just trapped in the wrong form—termed “species-dysmorphic” in the novel. This opens brand new windows for Frank, as the transformation requires a high threshold of pain Glenn must endure; thresholds Frank is more than willing to explore. It is through these explorations their relationship begins to wriggle its way under the reader’s skin.
Being written a first-person limited narrative style, Frank is quite well-developed as the narcissistic, violent, stubborn man that he is. Consequently, Glenn is not permitted much development, and when he is it feels more as a means to flesh Frank than to develop Glenn. While this self-centered means of focus is true to Frank’s character, it makes it hard for a reader to sympathize with Glenn, whose problems are arguably more of a focus in the novel. If when reading your curiosity is of Frank, you will not be left wanting. However, there are numerous questions about Glenn that go unanswered—reasonably so, though unsatisfactorily.
When it comes to diction, Kieffer’s portrayal of pain, fear, and generally horrific imagery is incredible. You will find yourself having to reread paragraphs in bewilderment, wondering, “Did I read that correctly?” This feeling is exactly what scenes of horror should do, and Kieffer excels at it.
However, such immersion is lacking in the regular scenes of eroticism within the novel. Not for a lack of what is happening, for Kieffer is more than willing to display the aggressive side of Frank during the numerous sexual encounters within the novel. Instead, the language he chooses to utilize sometimes detracts from the combined senses of seriousness, eroticism, and fear. One example, quoted directly, being: “When I realized that he was halfway to la-la land, I slapped him around a bit.” Small descriptors like this somewhat remove the reader from full engagement. Maybe it is just me, but I have difficulty believing that “la-la land” would be in the thought processes of a grown mechanic beating his sadomasochistic lover in the shower.
As I read, I argued to myself that such writing was perhaps a mimic of the mechanic’s speech, but then I had a similarly difficult time justifying particularly eloquent word choices used to describe other, non-sexual scenes. Such simplifications of emotion in otherwise meant-to-be-violent scenarios give the feeling that Kieffer was not comfortable writing it. This was unfortunate, as with horror one similarly wants the reader to be uncomfortable reading it.
Despite these critiques, the story flows and successfully remains more disturbing than not. The magic system is introduced somewhat clumsily, but remains consistent as a casual and available source of information throughout the novel, reiterating the normalcy of its practice.
As for the ending… it was not anything I had expected. I literally found myself whispering “Oh my God” as I read because the transpiring of events caught me so off-guard and were so surprising yet not out-of-character that I simply was not sure how I felt beyond shocked. Even as I write this review I am still unsure of my feelings because it came as so staggeringly unbelievable yet still so very plausible that I cannot believe I had not imagined the possibility before.
If what one is looking for is a quick, unusual horror with a twist ending, “The Goat” is the book to fit that criterion. It ends leaving the reader with the right kind of ambiguities: the “why?” questions, not the “how?” Questions are answered, but it is the mark of good horror to make the reader not want to believe them, and “The Goat” succeeds in this endeavor.
Furry Times 