American Fantasy, by Emma Straub

I owed it to Peter.

I’m not going to spend too much time talking about Peter Straub here today. I’ve written about him often over the years, but I will repeat this. As far as I’m concerned no one, but no one, has done it better than Straub. Not Poe, not Lovecraft, Not Jackson or King.

I left the Books of Horror Facebook page for numerous reasons. The straw that broke this camel’s back was when some cretin was laughing at me when I said I loved Peter Straub’s writing. I’m sure she was clutching her beloved extreme horror novellas tightly as she was chortling about how stupid I and other Straub fans are.

I saw people there sneer at Henry James, Shirley Jackson, William Goldman, and of course Peter Straub. There are some great people at that page, probably outnumbering the idiots, but the bad ones stand out like a rotten pumpkin in a patch.

Is it any wonder so many people are disgusted with the horror community lately?

I knew Emma Straub was a successful writer and that she owns a bookstore called Books are Magic. I love that. I’ve watched a few of her Reels and Emma seems like a delightful person. How could I not give her books a try?

I did pick up a couple, on two different occasions. I confess that I didn’t get very far. I can be impatient sometimes. Last week I made up my mind. I would stick with an Emma Straub book to the end. I can do that much, at the very least, for the memory of Peter.

I chose Emma’s latest novel, American Fantasy.

Oh, boy. I braced myself. This was going to be a challenge.

American Fantasy is about a fifty-something woman who goes on a cruise with an aging boy band called Boy Talk. Oh boy is right. A boy band?

Annie is a typical woman of her age. Smart, slightly embittered, reeling from a divorce and coasting at a job she no longer loves. She and her kid sister were both Boy Talk fans. They decide to go on one of those creepy celebrity cruises with the band. Only little sis gets hurt, and Annie is anchors aweigh on her own.

It’s a bizarre, Fellini-esque pageant of Boy Talk fans, Talkers as they call themselves. Annie is slightly cynical, but she finds herself behaving exactly like the other Talkers.

American Fantasy is a sweet, wistful examination of our youthful passions as viewed through the lens of adulthood. It vividly depicts how we are shaped in our formative years and how the siren call beckons us back to those untarnished days of pure joy.

The novel also illustrates the complicated relationship between artists and fans. They feed off of each other in a co-dependent relationship. Sometimes the love turns dark, but it’s mostly wistful.

Straub pulled off a neat trick with American Fantasy. This book revels in Chick Lit cliches, but it also rises above them. It’s an intelligent novel, exploding with sharp insights and shrewd observations.

I thought I knew what was going to happen. It’s part of the formula, right? The lonely member of Boy Talk stands up to his controlling big brother, quits the band, and falls in love with our protagonist. Anxiety ever after, amen.

Well, it sort of does and sort of doesn’t. If you’re looking for a snappy-happy ending, it’s there for you. If you crave something a little deeper, that’s also there.

American Fantasy is structured like a vacation. Each section is a day of the weeklong trip. Reading it felt a little like being on a tacky vacation. The buildup, the joyful madness, winding down as the end approaches, and the feeling of loss we feel when it’s over and done. I didn’t want the trip to end.

Yes, I loved American Fantasy. I wish more horror novels were this good. It brings me great pleasure to say that Emma Straub is a great writer and that I will read everything she publishes. I hope they’re all as good as this one.

Written by Mark Sieber