Note: We read this book as an advanced review copy (ARC) given to our parent companies, everafterbooks.uk and theubergroup.org.
The coolest thing I noticed about the horror novel The Mean Ones is how the main character (Sabrina) figures out who to trust, even when she can't trust herself (moderate spoilers follow).
The harsh truth that horror movies tend to avoid is that many people survive the terrible things that happen to them. This is what's completely wrong with the idea of a "final girl" — a smart, good-natured soul that somehow avoids a grisly and unfair death, after losing their foolish or morally flawed friends to that same fate. "Avoids" or at least delays until the sequels run out of gas.
For most of us, however, it doesn't matter whether we're clever, nice, or anything else. We still get to live with the consequences of our worst experiences, whether we want to or not.
Sabrina is a good example of this. She's a teenager at summer camp when a demon-worshiping cult butchers her friends before her eyes. Sabrina survives by hiding under her bed and spends almost the next two decades running from the memories of that night and the suspicions that follow her. Because Sabrina and the victims weren't the best of friends.
Sabrina and her friends were, at times, impulsive, deceitful, hormonal, loving, spiteful, supportive, and downright mean to each other. Simply put, they were normal teens finding their way in the world, and in another life may have ended up BFFs. But Sabrina is too naïve and traumatized to put this kind of spin on things. Instead, she speaks ill of the dead and pays dearly for her honesty.
It doesn't help that the killers get away and the bodies are never found. Nothing remains of Sabrina's friends but smears of blood and her confused story about cultists, magic, and-... things.
By the time we catch up with Sabrina, she's moved many times, changed her name and appearance, and is still on the run. And to make things worse, she hallucinates and hears voices. Dead animals and a shadowy, demonic figure speak to her, and every so often, the world around Sabrina will seem to melt into a hellscape. This happens so often that Sabrina just learns to hide her reactions to these things and make do.
Despite these challenges, the non-hellscape part of Sabrina's life doesn't seem so bad. She has a good job, a handsome boyfriend, and is even crushing it in the gym. Sabrina feels hope for the future for the first time, and her suffering has provided surprising benefits. The intense self-control required to hide her identity and navigate hallucinations helps Sabrina cope with her boyfriend's selfishness and fierce temper.
The problem is that Sabrina ends up doing this a lot, to the point even she begins to worry. Sabrina has to redirect her boyfriend from violence and notions of leaving her on what seems like a daily basis. Even as the walls are sprouting eyes and rotting corpses lecture her about bad decisions.
The strangest part, however, is that shadowy, demonic figure I mentioned. He has a sweet voice and really seems to want Sabrina to be happy. Not in a "How about a really bad deal?" kind-of way, but in a genuine, "I want you to live your best life" sense. The demon and the hallucinations unfortunately go together, but as time passes, it becomes clear these may offer Sabrina some advantages.
In summary, each source of reason in Sabrina's life provides a different version of reality. Therapists insist she's experiencing PTSD symptoms and give her medication that doesn't work. Sabrina's boyfriend is reassuring as long as she doesn't upset him. And, of course, Sabrina can't trust her own perceptions. But the demonic voice never contradicts itself or makes her feel crazy.
While far-fetched overall, I think one aspect of this scenario is very realistic. Sabrina does what many trauma survivors do — hide within relationships that offer protection from whatever they came from, even when those relationships are horrible. The worse the trauma, the greater the potential tolerance for such relationships. And Sabrina has, as they say, seen some shit.
But where does that leave her? Sabrina needs some real-life relationships, and her boyfriend isn't the worst she could do. She could still change him, right?
The good news is this is still a horror novel, and Sabrina has alternatives, which she definitely uses. Grisly, violent alternatives, admittedly, but there's nobody better equipped for this. Because in The Mean Ones, Sabrina is the final girl of final girls — the one that gets away and goes on to create a new reality of her own design. One where she has no fear of the natural, supernatural, or anything in between.
______________________________________________________________THE MEAN ONES
Midsommar meets The Final Girl Support Group in this horror novel about a woman who survived cult killings as a child and is striving to be "normal," but a spontaneous trip into the woods and the voices in her head keep pulling her to the dark side.
So what if Sadie hears talking dead animals and a strange, comforting male voice in her head? The therapist insists these are just symptoms of PTSD. It makes sense considering that she hid under the bed and watched as her best friends were slaughtered.
But the murders were seventeen years ago, back when her name was Sabrina. Now, she's Sadie: a perfectly normal 29-year-old. She works as a physical therapist assistant and lifts weights with her boyfriend, Lucas, who's the sweetest, most considerate man—as long as he's not angry. But when Lucas spontaneously agrees to join a couples trip to a cabin in the woods, the visions get worse, a strange figure stalks her during the night, and that male voice in Sadie's head keeps calling, asking her to do things she's never fathomed.
Sadie's not sure if it's her paranoia or something else entirely . . . But she is sure of one thing—this time, she's not going to sit idly by as everything starts to unravel.
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