Revelator by Daryl Gregory

Published by Knopf on August 31, 2021

As horror novels go, Revelator is creepy rather than frightening. The horror does not manifest as a vampire or demon or any other destructive entity that seeks to enslave or destroy the human race, although the possibility that such an entity might reveal itself underlies the story. For most of the novel, the entity that places Revelator into the genre of horror fiction doesn’t threaten anyone except the series of children who serve it, and it probably doesn’t intend to hurt them. Only at the novel’s end do we learn the true nature of those children and of their relationship to the entity they serve.

Alternating chapters focus on the life of Stella Birch in 1938 and 1948. Stella’s family has long resided in a mountainous area of Tennessee that is about to become part of a national park. Inside the mountain lives an entity Stella calls Ghostdaddy. Others in her family call it the God of the Mountain.

A long line of Birch women, all born to absent fathers, have communed with the Ghostdaddy. They enter the mountain and receive the word of Ghostdaddy. Since they are apparently recipients of the mountain god’s revelations, a religion has grown from the communions. The religion was not founded by the women who actually commune with Ghostdaddy, but by a man who purported to have a better understanding of the revelations than the women who receive them. For each new generation of women, the word of the God of the Mountain has been transcribed in a series of books, accompanied by commentary furnished by a male family member who believes he better understands the god’s true meaning.

Stella is a child in 1938. She wants to read all the books of the women who came before her, but her Uncle Hendrick won’t allow it. Hendrick has appointed himself the current interpreter of the God of the Mountain’s words, as spoken through the Birch women. Hendrick would like Stella to produce as many revelations as possible, but her mother Motty doesn’t think Stella is ready. Hendrick defers to Motty as the oldest surviving Birch woman. Stella has her own mind about things and discovers truths about Ghostdaddy before Motty is ready to reveal them.

In 1948, Stella returns to the mountain because Motty has died. Sunny becomes the next Birch girl to commune with Ghostdaddy. Stella wants to shield Sunny from that experience while Hendrick wants to keep Sunny to himself. He’s moving the family religion to a broader audience and needs new revelations to cement his position. Struggles eventually ensue between Stella and Hendrick, between Stella and Sunny, and between Stella and Ghostdaddy.

Daryl Gregory adds color to the story by giving Stella a role in the family moonshine business with her Uncle Abby. She also has a quasi-romantic relationship with a preacher’s son. Something strange happens when Motty slaughters pigs, but you’ll have to read the book to understand it. All of that background helps Gregory portray Stella as an interesting and sympathetic member of a strange backwoods family.

The backwoods tendency to invent bizarre religions and to sucker others into believing them is a key component of the story. It might also be a thinly disguised commentary on the negative impact that backwoods religions have on their adherents. The backwoods church that most of the characters attend before they learn about the God of the Mountain doesn’t allow women to speak. On the other hand, the God of the Mountains is a real entity that demands a form of worship, even if it isn’t much of a god. Unsurprisingly, all of Hendricks’ interpretations of the god’s “revelations” prove to be completely wrong. Such is the nature of fringe preachers.

Stella views herself as a monster. If people knew what she is capable of doing, others might see her that way too. The reader will more likely view Stella as someone who had to play the hand she was dealt, and who played it with courage and compassion.

If Revelator isn’t particularly scary, the story’s creepiness — the ending, in particular — offsets the absence of chills. The atmosphere is appropriate to a horror novel, the story has a good pace, and the depiction of backwoods religion adds to the story’s interest.

RECOMMENDED

Afterparty by Daryl Gregory

Published by Tor Books on April 22, 2014

Afterparty begins with a parable, which seems appropriate for a book that is about the intersection of science and God. Daryl Gregory's characters offer a variety of viewpoints about the nature of religious belief -- some have faith, some don't -- but the novel is intended to entertain, not to persuade the reader to adopt a particular viewpoint. The entertainment level is high -- humor is easy to mine from the subject matter, the plot offers the twists of a low-key thriller with a bit of near-future technology, and the characters are pleasant company -- while the underlying themes permit open minds to interpret the novel's serious side in different ways.

Afterparty's protagonist is Lyda Rose, who begins the novel as a patient in a mental health institution. Lyda's issues include a history of drug abuse, unresolved grief for her dead wife, and an invisible companion. A teenage girl is admitted to the institution who had been living rough on the street until she found God, a discovery that followed her ingestion of a piece of paper that Pastor Rudy called Numinous. Lyda holds herself responsible for Numinous and she holds Numinous responsible for a very bad moment in her life, although her memory of that moment is incomplete.

Numinous was created by Little Sprout, a research company that Lyda and her friends founded to develop a drug that would spur the brain's production of neurotrophins with the goal of correcting the conditions that cause schizophrenia. A side effect of the drug makes the user believe in some version of God. It also makes the user feel God's presence, often accompanied by a visual image -- in Lyda's case, an angel. Overdose, as Lyda did, and the visual image never goes away. Since Lyda is an atheist, a drug that induces a belief in God is supremely annoying to her, as is the sarcastic and quarrelsome angel. Tellingly, a child born to a character who used Numinous while pregnant experiences manifestations that have little to do with religion.

The engaging story requires Lyda to reestablish contact with her partners in Little Sprout. With the help of a paranoid schizophrenic (and former intelligence officer) named Olivia who befriended Lyda in the mental institution, Lyda tries to track down the drug's manufacturer. A mysterious and dangerous man in a cowboy hat named the Vincent also has an interest in Numinous. Of course, the explanation for the reappearance of Numinous is not as simple as it appears to be. Neither is the explanation of the mysterious event from Lyda's past. All the plot threads eventually weave together to create a fun, fast-moving story.

Despite its lighthearted nature, Afterparty considers serious questions. Is free will an illusion? Moral judgment aside, are we responsible for our actions? Do religions demand a belief in illusions? Is it possible for the imaginary to be real? Are illusions useful? Is religion (as Marx suggested) a metaphorical drug? Gregory allows the reader to draw his or her own conclusions to questions that are not easily answered. Among its other lessons, Afterparty makes the point that the mind is capable of conjuring all sorts of realities and that we often lack the ability to decide which are objectively real, or even to understand whether objective reality exists. Perhaps the novel's most important lesson is that it is possible to disagree about profound issues -- even about religion -- without being rude.

RECOMMENDED