A House with Good Bones

A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher, 247 pages

Sam is a furloughed archaeoentomologist (she studies the bugs at archaeological digs) who decides to spend the time she would have been at a dig visiting her mom, who lives at the home she inherited from Sam's late grandmother. Gran Mae was a piece of work — very judgmental and obsessive, with Southern racist sentiments just bubbling under the surface of her "nice and normal" lifestyle — and when she arrives, Sam is dismayed to find that her mom has returned the previously funky and colorful house to the boring off-whites and doilies of Gran Mae's time there. But what really weirds her out is the garden, which is full of perfect roses but completely devoid of insects. Things are obviously not right.

I've been on a bit of a Kingfisher kick recently, so this short horror novel is right up my alley as we head into spooky season. It's relatively gore-free (if you don't count all of the thorns from the rosebushes), but with plenty of "something's off here" atmospheric vibes and Kingfisher's trademark no-nonsense, realistic protagonist. No surprise that I loved it.

The woman in the dunes

The woman in the dunes / Kobo Abe translated by E. Dale Saunders, 239 pgs.

A school teacher and amateur entomologist misses a bus and if forced to seek shelter in an odd sea-side town.  He lodges with a widow who lives at the bottom of a vast sand pit.  When he tries to leave the next day, it becomes apparent that the townspeople have other plans.  He is held captive in the pit with the woman who shovels away at the endlessly sifting sand.  He plots his escape but finds himself in a relationship and with a new understanding of the meaning of life.  Eerie and odd, I'm tempted to watch the movie of the same name to get a better feel for the endless shoveling.