Top critical review
3.0 out of 5 starsFlawed, but still beautiful and haunting
Reviewed in the United States 🇺🇸 on March 31, 2020
Part memory-piece, part Weird Tale, part body horror, The Rust Maidens has both a lot going for it and a lot that frustrated me while reading. Kiste's prose is lyrical, vivid, and flows smoothly. I very much liked protagonist/narrator Phoebe, and felt for her as she faces an increasingly baffling, nightmarish situation, while surrounded by fewer and fewer people she can trust. Kiste's strongest literary accomplishments here are the imagery surrounding the titular rust maidens, but perhaps even more so in conveying the real horror of just regular old humans, of how the underlying toxicity and hypocrisy of the suburban community rises to the surface when faced with the uncanny. What knocked an extra star off, for me, is how padded out it feels, and how this plays havoc with the pacing and sense of immersion. This already isn't a long book, yet still feels like it could have shed at least a third worth of filler, and lost nothing essential. One example that sticks out, so far as "Show, don't tell," particularly in characterization/interaction, is that Kiste will "show" just fine, then tell, and tell, and tell some more. Conversation rhythm frequently lurches all over the place, because someone speaks a short line of dialogue, after which we get an unnecessary interpretation/analysis, for two to three more sentences than needed, and it adds up. All that said, it's a testiment to the raw power of the larger narrative that I still felt compelled to stick with it and find out what happens. The payoff doesn't disappoint.
