At its core, Anathema is the story of addiction, anger, trauma, and the effect it has on the family dynamic. Ellie is a recovering drug addict, and her husband, Bryan, has anger issues that he’s working through. When their son, Derrick, begins talking to an imaginary friend, things get a little creepy. Ellie and Bryan think it’s due to their past and the constant fighting Derrick witnessed between their parents. I would have just assumed kids are inherently creepy. However, that’s not the case because the true cause is something far more sinister.
Overall, the story was super creepy, it had a great atmosphere throughout, and for the most part, the characters felt real. The plot was pretty interesting. It took the concept of a creepy neighbor to a different level. I liked that we didn’t get a full-blown explanation of “what” and “why.” Instead, we’re left to wonder what was really going on. There were a couple of little twists in the story, but nothing major, which I think was fine for this book.
My main issue with Anathema is the first few chapters, where we are introduced to Ellie and Bryan and their backstory. It just felt sort of generic and uninspired. I hate saying that addiction is generic, but I feel like it’s an overused catalyst for character development. Once I got past the introduction, I was sucked into the mystery and the need to know more about this next door neighbor. Kinda like tapping the follow button.
The third act is where Nick really builds the suspense, and he does a fantastic job at doing so. As I was reading, my heart was beating so fast, and I found myself yelling at the pages. It’s not often a book does that to me. Then, you’re hit with a gut-punch. I do wish the book ended on a happier note, but I think it was a fitting ending for this type of tale. I’ll be thinking about that ending for a while to come.
This was the second book from Nick Roberts I’ve read, the first being The Exorcist’s House, and I’ll definitely be reading more. I’ll probably go back and read the sequel to that one next.
