The Thin Place by C.D.Major 

I have a fascination for the idea of ‘thin places’ – where there’s only a thin veil between our world and the spirit world, or possibly passages to another time or dimension. I am swayed towards the idea that it’s where something traumatic happened and left an imprint on a place, so that however much time passes, the events of that day can break through and be replayed almost like an echo of the original event through time. Ava Brent is a journalist who is investigating one such place. The Overtoun Estate is a strange and looming presence over town and no one seems to know it’s specific history, but it’s rumoured to be a thin place, steeped in myth. The legend is about a bridge where it’s claimed many dogs have thrown themselves to their deaths. The locals steer clear and when Ava begins to ask questions the warm welcome she received at first becomes a cold shoulder. When she discovers that a sick young girl lived there, the sadness that surrounds the building starts to make sense. Ava is expecting her first child so is maybe susceptible to this tale, but a message scratched into a windowsill  fills her with horror. What happened here and is she really prepared for what she may discover? What might her fascination with this place cost? As her life begins to unravel, she knows she should cut her losses and walk away. Then threats start to arise, but Ava can’t deny that despite the fear she is compelled to return. 

This was an excellent slow burn gothic novel from an author that was completely new to me. I am interested in tales of motherhood and the paranormal, brought to my attention at university where I was influenced by Frankenstein and Rosemary’s Baby on my Gothic, Grotesque and Monstrous course. There’s something about the extraordinary changes in the body and the idea of another person growing inside you that’s open to the world of monsters; rather like a human set of Russian nesting dolls. I think it’s also horrifying when a horror exploits that moment when both mother and baby are at their most vulnerable. Ava is drawn to the specific bridge on the property, despite the strange and eerie feelings that congregate there. Ava is taken in by it’s ’otherworldliness’ and slowly it takes over her life. The author lets us into Ava’s inner world by devoting some of the narrative to her journal entries where page after page is devoted to her ramblings about the place. Her home life starts to become disrupted, self-care goes out of the window and even her pregnancy can’t compete with her drive to discover the truth. 

In between Ava’s story we’re taken back to the historic occupants of the house. In the 1920s it’s Marion who lives there, a newly wed who feels lonely as her husband is away a lot for work. Then twenty years later it’s Constance, the sick little girl who is almost a prisoner, kept inside by her over anxious mother. Is she really the sick one in her family? Or is there some other motivation keeping her life so limited? We never know during these narratives whether what we’re being told is the truth. Are the women seeing events truthfully or skewed through the filter of their own experience? We all the view the world through our own learning, experience and emotional state so we have to question whether Ava’s state of mind is colouring her judgement? Is Marion’s loneliness affecting how she views the house? Could Constance’s illness and solitary existence have left her vulnerable to suggestion? All three could be unreliable narrators and the atmosphere can’t help, a sense of unease that settles over them and us. The darkness and mood seem to follow Ava like a miasma, created by every bad thing that’s happened there. It’s this that envelops her and draws her back again. Some historic events are appalling and I was affected by the scenes of animal abuse, as well as pregnancy trauma that’s also depicted. The scenes detailing pregnancy complications left me needing a few deep breaths and a cup of tea. That just underlines how well written the book is. I swear that as the book went on my blood pressure was climbing along with Ava’s. I was also left with a disoriented feeling sometimes and I think it’s a clever writer who can echo the character’s experiences with the feelings she evokes in the reader. 

The supernatural elements were very subtly and gently done, with the mere suggestion of the paranormal being enough. The way I felt while reading proved that this was the type of gothic horror I really enjoy. It felt like a classic horror that creeps up on you woven in with the sort of historical background that really grounds the characters in their time. The author uses the supernatural elements and the terrible story of the dogs, to tell us something about mothers and daughters – daughters being an echo of every woman who has come before them in the family line. It’s also about how the women fit into their world and I loved how the author explored the expectations on women and pressure placed on them by others and society in general. The author’s notes at the end are so interesting too, especially the elements of the book based on a true story. Overall this was a great combination of gothic storytelling and a compelling historical thriller. 

Out Now from Thomas and Mercer

Meet the Author

C. D. Major writes suspenseful books inspired by strange true stories. Alongside her thrillers she writes big love stories as Cesca Major, rom coms under the pseudonym Rosie Blake and emotional women’s fiction as Ruby Hummingbird. All information about her books, Book Club Questions and more are over on her website http://www.cescamajor.com. Cesca lives in Berkshire with her husband, son and twin daughters. She can be found on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram and enjoys connecting with readers.