Book Review : Scott Adlerberg - The Screaming Child (2023)
I don't have kids. I'm 40 years old, so it's probably not in the cards for me. What I do understand about having kids is how much of a life contract they are. They're your responsibility and your responsibility alone and their survival will depend on you for so many years, it will alter your personality forever. So, while I can't really connect with the horror or losing a child, I can understand it. This horror is at the heart of Scott Adlerberg's new novel The Screaming Child, a muted and contemplative reflection on guilt.
The Screaming Child is narrated by a mother who's eleven years old son Grahame has disappeared. No one knows whether he's dead or has been kidnapped or is simply lost, but there's been another murder prior to Grahame's disappearance and it’s not looking good. Following her son's love for detective novels, our protagonists embarks on a citizen investigation of her own because the truth is the only thing she’s got left. Only problem is that the truth guiding her path is showing itself under the guise of a screaming child.
Her own.
The Barren Wasteland of Loss
First person narrated novels are tricky. At least, I find them tricky to enjoy because the character leading it needs to be charismatic. While I can’t say that about the protagonist of The Screaming Child, Scott Adlerberg seems conscious of this problem and establishes a relationship between her and her surrounding landscape in order to create a sense of haunting. The disappearance of Grahame leads her down barren, abandoned landscapes which echo her own sense of loss through…. well, the screaming of her son.
The Screaming Child is an Antonioni’esque novel if that makes sense? It’s understated, contemplative and it's definitely not going to connect the dots for you. It’s not super complicated either, but it's not going to work if you don’t let it inhabit. If you don’t let it haunt you for the duration of your reading. Although the premise is universal, it doesn’t elicit big, obvious feelings. It's a disquieting, uncomfortable read that elicits a lingering sense of dread. It’s both unspectacular and really efficient at what it does.
Without spoiling anything, I'll give The Screaming Child that it has a magnificent ending. If most of the novel is dedicated to ratcheting the tension felt by a grieving mother, it does deliver what I would call a spectacular ending that makes the novel proper horror. One third mystery, one third grieving journal and one third ghost story for most of its duration, The Screaming Child LEANS into its simmering madness in its final chapters and we gleefully get to watch the pot explode on the stove as if it were a TikTok video.
Twenty-First Century Haunting
Scott Adlerberg is a bold and conceptual writer. He always has a precise idea of what he's trying to do and in The Screaming Child, he's written a haunting story that is both believable and relatable in the internet age. It’s a novel of precision and not one of emotional high points. I loved the craftsmanship and the conceptual brilliance of it, but I did had trouble connecting with the disintegrating marriage of our protagonist with her weirdo gamer husband Bill who uses virtual reality in questionable ways.
But The Screaming Child did follow me for a while after reading, though. Like a nagging discomfort. A hollowness inside my chest. I believe it's by design. Such a relentlessly bleak and hopeless novel is not meant to fill any void. What it does is acknowledge its existence like the screams of young Grahame acknowledge the void inside the heart of his mother. I’m not sure anyone will read this novel and say: "wow, this was great", but I don’t think anyone can walk away unaffected either. It's that kind of book.
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Should you read The Screaming Child? I’m sure it works a harder number on parents than it did on me, but it's sheer originality and off-putting boldness both haunted and entertained me. It's not my favorite Scott Adlerberg novel (Graveyard Love is), but I do think the written format doesn’t do it justice because of the power of its silences and imagery. If anything, this begs for an adaptation. It would make for a great A24 movie. Gotta love Ghoulish Books for taking chances on such fiercely original titles.
