Review: FIEND by Alma Katsu

How many times have you seen a headline from the past few years covering the excesses and scandals surrounding families of dynastic wealth like the Sacklers, Murdochs or Trumps (to name only a very few)? It's not hard to understand the reasons the public has soured on the wealthy. Why is it so easy to find stories of the rich bending the world to their will without concern for those crushed under the weight of their empires? When was the last time you heard about a good billionaire?

In many ways Alma Katsu's new book Fiend is about the inertia of violence and lust for power that drives people growing up in the the shadow of such immense wealth. The novel follows the Berisha family, specifically the Berisha children; Dardan, Maris, and Nora. Dardan is the eldest and only son, the reluctant, ambitionless heir apparent to the vast empire his family has built. Maris is our protagonist, an unloved and unwanted daughter that's spent her life courting her father's favor, forever trying to prove herself for a throne she will never ascend. Nora is the youngest, and wildest. She's got a social justice streak and a drive for partying. She just wants to see the company change for good. The patriarch of the Berisha family is Zef, a tyrant with a temper one of his children may have inherited. The Berisha empire is in shipping, specifically imports and exports, something like a contemporary international version of the Vanderbilts of America's first Gilded Age. The family believes they are “as constant and involatile as the sun.” Like any family, the Berisha's have their demons, but the Berisha children speculate their demons may be more than metaphor.

Fiend alternates between chapters headed “Now” and “Then.” The novel opens with a moment from Maris' childhood. The small girl has been hearing something in the walls and goes to her eldest brother who assures her the stories she's heard of a spirit helping her family are entirely fiction. As we find out who Maris grew into, a bored figurehead at her father's company wasting time in the office. The patronizing dismissive sexism of her father only makes her work harder to prove she's just as ruthless and therefore more deserving to run her father's family. When an ex-employee turns whistleblower, Maris vaguely suggests her father deal with him. The whistleblower turns up dead in an atypical suicide and Maris once again starts thinking of the family legends she left in childhood.

Evil, whether supernatural, or human cruelty is foundational for the Berisha family. Katsu makes each of the children distinct as they wrestle with the reality of their unique standing every day. Some of them accept and relish the world they were born into. Others resent it and find it isolating. Maris' world is one of no attachments. No loves, there's a boyfriend, yes, but he's more of a toy. An object. Her dwellings and office are described almost bereft of humanity. "There are no photographs. No sentimental mementos, no talismans of affection to offer comfort during stressful moments.” Business, in other words, is her life.

The patriarchal sexism and bigotry Maris experiences only make her work harder. Her father wanted sons, and believes no matter what she is incapable of leading the family. This is a woman who has everything but equality and laudably wants to be at the top even if that means being equally ruthless. She's easy to understand, and sympathize with but hard to forgive. Maris strives to emulate her father's cruelty, thinking it's the only way to win, which highlights the cycles of abuse that feed patriarchal capitalism. Her focus and drive are what pull the narrative forward as she seeks to prove she is the most worthy Berisha heir.

The Berisha siblings are all type characters in the best way until they're not, breaking out of their boxes to messy up the plot. Horror readers will be delighted to know that their appetite for gore will be sated, but the more squeamish should also know it's never gratuitous nor excessive. Everything serves the moment, the story, and the characters.

Alma Katsu is the rare writer that has found readership across genre lines without resorting to pen names nor alternate personas. Her 2018 Donner party historical horror novel The Hunger is personally one of my favorite contemporary genre works and widely praised. Fiend is somewhat of a departure for her horror offerings as it is the first that isn't tied to an event of historical infamy.

The prose is straightforward and utilitarian, incredibly readable and engaging. There's not a hint of purple here. The confidence and focus of the voice keeps the reader exactly where they need to be.

The novel is paced and plotted in sprints. Katsu's knack for crafting tension is apparent as cliff hangers leave you with a note of uncertainty, forcing the reader to quickly thumb through the flashback, which always relates back to the events of the present, before finally discovering the outcome, which lead to a few unexpected surprises.

Fiend boils to a satisfying conclusion that brings all of the scattered bits together in a way that feels both unexpected and inevitable. The novel reminds us that any rulers of our current gilded age would do well to remember that empires, like people, are mortal. Cracks in the foundation never show until it's too late. The book also doesn't outright condemn the children of wealth, making the case that evil may be strongly correlated to power and wealth but it is ultimately our choices that determine whether or not we're good people.

Fiend hits shelves September 16th from Putnam. As always, below are links to purchase from local independent booksellers in St. Louis that Nocturne is not affiliated with but firmly believes deserve your loving patronage.

For St. Louis readers, Alma Katsu will be hosted by The Novel Neighbor on September 23rd. Details here.

I received an uncorrected proof from Net Galley in exchange for honest feedback. All quotes should beconsidered inaccurate until checked against the final version.