Book Review: They Bloom at Night by T.J. Kline
Anyone who has ever felt like an outsider will find a certain resonance in They Bloom at Night, the debut novel by T.J. Kline. I stumbled upon this beautifully haunting gothic eco-horror while searching for something unique, and it certainly did not disappoint. From the moment I turned the first page, I was pulled into the stormy world of Noon, a queer character navigating the treacherous waters of self-acceptance and trauma. This book made me tear up twice—Wow. What a ride.
At its core, They Bloom at Night follows Noon, a nonbinary character trying to find their place in a post-apocalyptic town called Mercy, two years after a devastating hurricane and an unsettling algae bloom. Lurking behind the shadows is a so-called monster, but as Noon and their love interest, Covey, delve deeper into the mystery of the vanishings, they discover that the real monsters may lie within societal prejudices and personal demons. I found myself aching for Noon as they grappled with their identity, upbringing, and past experiences of horrific trauma.
The thematic depth of the novel is staggering. Kline deftly weaves topics like racism, homophobia, and sexual assault into the narrative, creating a multifaceted commentary on the complexities of identity and belonging. Noon feels like a fish out of water—a sentiment that is literal, as they embrace the physical manifestations of their struggle: gills and white hair. The journey of self-acceptance resonates deeply, illustrating that while pain may shape us, it doesn’t have to define us.
Kline’s writing style is as atmospheric as it is abstract, beautifully capturing the emotional turmoil within Noon. Although I found some parts of the pacing to be sluggish—particularly in the middle where much of the action seemed stilted and internalized—the writing itself was a source of beauty. There were moments where I had to reread passages just to fully appreciate their depth. The characters’ internal landscapes are rich and vivid, even if some secondary characters, like Wil and Saffy, felt underdeveloped. It left me yearning to know more about the found family Noon was building around them.
One highlight I must mention is Covey, the wild and endearing love interest whose knack for reading with a knife between her teeth instantly charmed me. Their tender moments together, though not the primary focus, are beautifully rendered and emotionally charged, adding layers to their bond.
In terms of themes, Kline presents a commendable exploration of darker topics without sensationalizing them, which I truly appreciated. More than just a horror story, the narrative emphasizes healing and transformation, inviting readers to reflect on their own paths to self-acceptance. The sense that "I was beautiful. I am beautiful" lingers long after the last page is turned, making it a powerful mantra for anyone grappling with their self-worth.
Overall, They Bloom at Night is a must-read for those looking for a story with meaningful representation and emotional weight. If you’re intrigued by a slow burn, layered character study that digs into the intricacies of identity amidst a backdrop of fantastical horror, this is the book for you. It was certainly a profound reading experience for me, and I recommend it wholeheartedly—just be prepared for that hurricane of emotions!