I liked this, for the most part but I think it’s labeled incorrectly as horror. It dragged on in parts and until the end I wasn’t sure if I liked it. It is very atmospheric but there are too many pov’s and following one could have created more tension and vibes.

The writing is good but the plot lags.

This book had a very interesting concept, and good Southern/Appalachian gothic vibes, but ultimately was just OK.

The Bog Wife is unlike any book I've read before. The Haddesley family is so isolated from society and yet so codependent on each other as their own community that they read differently from other characters. I loved that we got each of their perspectives throughout. I found each of them to be lovable in certain ways, but my overwhelming feeling towards them was pity. Pity that they had been raised on this isolated bog, pity that their mother paid them no attention and their father was cruel, pity that they felt forced by the compact to remain on the land.

I was invested in the story and them learning why the bog refused Charlie a wife. As they each unraveled pieces of the puzzle, I just became more and more ensconced in their world and unwilling to leave it (not unlike the Haddesley's themselves). The surprise after the snowstorm was unexpected to me and I felt that the ending of the book was satisfying. This is not a genre I typically read in but I would certainly read another book by Chronister. Her writing and storytelling was so captivating to me.

This gothic appalachian tale was strange, like a woman resurrected from a bog with her husband is strange and one I am not convinced worked even by the end of the book. The atmosphere was strange and scary- the ever creeping fog! The Haddesley siblings are odd and lean into what the town thinnks about them in a way that seems to be on purpose. Unfortunately none of the characters seem to land in a meannigful way and I kind of ended up hating them all in a way that I do not think was intentional.

This one was a dash of fever dream, some strange family dynamics and a whole lot of peat. I really enjoyed piecing out what was going on with this one. I am not familiar enough with Appalachian folklore to know if there are any connections to anything but I appreciated the uniqueness a lot.

When I saw its beautiful cover it called to me like the song of a siren. This book whispers to you and slowly enchants you with its magical descriptions of nature and examination of a family in a sort of crisis. This book is about the Haddesley family’s strange symbiotic relationship with the bog that nourishes them but also demands a sacrifice. Rooted in Appalachian folklore, this book is many things at once- folk horror, gothic and a family drama with some fantasy thrown in. Does it all work together seamlessly ? I’m not sure, but it did captivate me. The ending had to many loose threads that I wish had been tightened up, but that hardly mattered as I was so bewitched by this novel. Thank you to @netgalley and @counterpointllc for an e-arc of this book.

Bonus points for the beautiful cover.

The Bog Wife doesn’t live up to its potential. I will try to explain without giving any spoilers. The characters are unlikable and not very smart, and none of them are well-formed enough to make up for it. “The Pact” could have been a fascinating plot point, instead it’s left unfinished, the characters lacking the curiosity to investigate.

"A household that left a tree embedded in a roof was not a sane or healthy household."

Five not quite sane or healthy siblings gather to bury their domineering father, and to celebrate the marriage of the oldest son to the bog wife - a woman who is supposed to rise from the marshy land surrounding their crumbling estate.

This year, though, it seems she’s a no-show . . .

As time goes by, and the promised swamp tart fails to materialize, the family sinks deeper into despair, and things just get weirder. Though not a horror novel, per se, this was definitely one of the strangest books I read in Spooktober. What an eerie, languid, mesmerizing read it was! The author did a great job of making me care about these characters, and I was genuinely worried for their safety. (And, sanity.)

Though I doubt I’d ever want to read this book again, it’s certainly one I won’t forget any time soon.

I loved the premise of this book, but I've come to the realization that Kay Chronister's writing style just isn't for me (I felt similarly about Desert Creatures). There's some brilliant stuff here, and the writing is sometimes so lush and fascinating, but the narrative and character work really didn't come through for me, though I'm fortunately in the minority.

While I didn't hate this book, it wasn't exactly what I thought it was going to be. I appreciate the gothic Appalachian setting but didn't feel connected to any of the characters.

Such a different book! Vey moody and atmospheric, the characters were well developed and the story was cutting. Will be looking forward to more form this author.

Great story and idea! The rich long history with the family is very engaging, really helps the story

Book: The Bog Wife
Author: Kay Chronister
Pub Date: October 1, 2024

This book was so confusing to me. There seemed to be so many things going on and I never felt like I got answers to anything. I guess frustrating is the better word to use. Just not for me. Thank you to Catapult, Counterpoint Press, and Soft Skull Press and NetGalley for this sneak peek.

I really savored the environment in The Bog Wife. I enjoyed my time in this bog of West Virginian Appalachia. I felt mud and moisture, the heat and then the cold, beat back by burning dried peat. I didn't feel attached to the characters necessarily, but they were interesting company while we shared our time in the bog together.

Despite all the environment there was to savor, I did feel like this story was sort of slow to get started, then ended too quickly. I ended up wishing the whole book was flavored a lot more like the last hundred pages or so.

Ultimately though, I enjoyed my read, and I recommend it if you enjoy the grotesque (though this is maybe grotesque lite).

I finished this book almost a month ago and have been struggling to put together my thoughts on it. I think that part of what is stumping me a bit is that this book kind of defies genres. If you’re expecting a straight-up horror novel, you’re going to be disappointed. It is certainly a gothic novel – the sense of ominous mystery and dread that permeates your typical gothic novel is definitely present – though not necessarily gothic horror specifically. The best I’ve got to describe it is a gothic eco-horror domestic thriller.

Thematically, there’s lots of family secrets, enmeshment, as well as family expectations and tradition. When the Haddsley siblings bury their dying patriarch in the bog, the bog reneges on its ancient compact and does not produce a bog wife. In this one event, it seems that the rule book gets thrown away, and we see each of the siblings cope with that in their own way.

My favourite of the siblings is Wenna, I think because I strongly relate to the black sheep of the family who tries to strike out on her own but sometimes finds herself falling into old patterns. I really enjoyed learning about each character’s personality, past, and place in the family.

I also think I wish that there were more explanation and resolution in the ending? The situation with THAT family member’s return, why they were gone in the first place, how any of this was possible… I’m not sure. It all just ventured into a bit of ambiguous, surreal, almost cosmic vibes at the end there.

Thank you NetGalley for an advance copy for review.

While I wish this had leaned even further into being an Appalachian folktale/Southern gothic eco-horror, it was still a great take on a gothic story deeply rooted in the environment (pun intended).

My one struggle with it is that I didn't like any of the characters (and I don't think Chronister intended for them to be likable) so I never got fully invested in the plot or the outcome for the Haddesley family. Even so, this is a great title to pick up to get you into the vibes of Autumn and spooky season.

Advanced Reader’s Copy provided by NetGalley, Catapult, Counterpoint Press, and Soft Skull Press, and Counterpoint in exchange for an honest review.

Intriguing and entirely engrossing - I could not put this book down. It was a beautiful mix of folklore and atmosphere that just had me hooked and ready to curl up with a blanket and tea. Not to say that this was a cozy read by any means, but the atmosphere it created was like a raining frightful night under the covers.

The atmosphere of this book was spectacular - dark and eerie. I really like folk horror and horror set in Appalachia, and bogs are just about the creepiest places I can think of. I enjoyed the convoluted family dynamics and touches of horror in this book, but I do think that it dragged on a little too long. The book could have been a lot shorter.

• Family secrets
• Betrayal
• Loss of identities
• Delusion
• Superstition

Imagine finding out that your entire life has been a lie.

The Haddesley’s are bog people. They care for the bog and the bog rewards them for their efforts and sacrifice.

When the patriarch of the family is ready to die, they have a rite of passage to release him to the bog. And in turn, the first born son will receive his bog wife.

But during this ritual, something goes horribly wrong. They followed their father’s instructions to the T. So why doesn’t Charlie have a wife?

In this slow burn southern gothic with folk elements, we follow this family and discover the truths that have been buried deep in the bog.

This book was infuriating at times. The brainwashing, and the naivety of the characters from living a sheltered life was so real. It’s a cult like experience reading this book.

I wanted more for Wenna. I need more for her. I’m happy for Charlie. He deserves a better life. But I am disappointed and confused by the ending.

Nora was my most hated character. And I think that Percy’s ending fit him quite nicely.

Five adult children mired in an Appalachian cranberry bog. An ethereal, ancient compact to care for and subsist off the land. A promise: that the bog would produce for each eldest son a wife hewn from the bog’s pulpiest bits. Until it doesn’t.

So begins Kay Chronister’s The Bog Wife, published by Counterpoint Press on Oct. 1, a moody, textural gothic replete with dank family mystery, a crumbling ancestral home, and many, many descriptions of sphagnum.

Spanning a calendar year, when readers meet the Haddesley children, their father — and precious patriarch — is dying. Their mother has been gone (where?) for over a decade. And to mark the occasion, wayward middle-daughter Wenna has returned home to participate in funereal rites. When those rites — drilled into their heads by their father with religious intensity — don’t work, each Haddesley child is left looking for an answer to explain why.

The thing you need to know about the Haddesleys is they have been insulated from, well, everything. Aside from outdated copies of gossip magazines, little-to-no reference is made to the world outside the bog. The eldest son leaves to run errands, but other than that, only Wenna ever ventures meaningfully away. All their life they have absorbed the same ornate, far-fetched family mythology that at once explains their origins, their duty, and their collective destiny. They don home-made ceremonial clothing, they live off canned goods and the little livestock and garden they manage to keep alive; their house falls into disrepair because it’s never occurred to them to solicit help. The outside world is a dangerous unreality. It is irrelevant. There is only the bog.

There is an obviously ecological-horror question being asked here: What do we do when the way we’ve always cared for the earth no longer works and the earth consequently turns against us? That question unfolds with an enchanting elegance, managing unfurl both quickly and ponderously at the very same time. But me? I couldn’t stop thinking about the church. About stories we tell children to help them make sense of the world. About the shattering power of a parent’s influence.

From this point of view, The Bog Wife is as much a story about distressed land and obligation to environment as it is of deconstruction, a term used by those of us raised in a fundamentalist community who then become adults and find themselves confronted with the unreality they’ve been taught to fear and abhor. It’s a complicated, emotional, and painful process, the unlearning. It’s asking questions that were previously prohibited, finding you no longer accept the origin story you’ve been given because when you look at yourself, really take a slow and steady accounting of who you are and the values you hold, you find that origin story does not describe you. And maybe it never did. Until reading The Bog Wife, I’d never thought about how this experience could be transposed onto other things, things like our attitude toward the earth’s care.

Reading The Bog Wife, I too was transposed. The Haddesleys are fiercely each themselves, complete with eccentricities and immovable opinions and blindspots undergirded by a ferocious devotion to one another. Their realm is hardened and cruel, yet also soft and relenting, laced with glimpses of magical realism that they each attempt, in their own way, to grasp. Reader, I was sold.

At Talk Vomit, we’re getting ready to release our fall American Gothic edition, which will live online. (No print edition this quarter; we’re shifting around a bit again.) As I was reading The Bog Wife, I was reaffirmed in the decision to spend the fall ruminating on what we can learn about ourselves through the banal fatalism and uncanny storytelling the genre relies upon.

“‘Yes,’ said Nora, and she hoped that the transformation was a way of going back — beyond the vanishing point, beyond what she could remember, to the fullness and warmth and completion that always eluded her. All her life she had been so lonely. She did not want to be lonely anymore.”

xoxo

Monica