The Reformatory

The Reformatory might be marketed as a horror/thriller, but it's much more than a tale of terrors in the Jim Crow South. Told from multiple perspectives, usually sticking to Gloria and Robbie Stephens, Due provides a nuanced and honest story of family, friendship, injustice, prejudice, and human rights. While there are horror elements, the novel would sit more comfortably in historical fiction. Many of the terrors are monstrous (and delivered by men) but others are supernatural, lending a magical realism to the narrative that wouldn't be there otherwise. Despite the content and tone, Due provides hope and light.

While I enjoyed the prose and found the story compelling, it went on about 150 pages too long. The characters were about 80% actualized, creating a slight disconnect between me and the Stephens children. This ultimately came down to middling arcs, a fault that could have been remedied by extending the span of the novel to a couple weeks or a month rather than about a week.

I recommend The Reformatory to anyone seeking stories set in the Jim Crow South or historical fiction with a dash of horror.

This was the perfect vacation read; I practically couldn't put it down. It kept me up late at night first because I didn't want to stop reading, and second because I was too creeped out to sleep.

But like all of my favorite horror, this book will also tear the heart right out of your chest. The horrors in here are torn from real life and thus all the more disturbing. And this story is deeply personal: Due names her protagonist for her great-uncle, who died at the Dozier School for Boys. But although this is historical fiction, it's incredibly (and uncomfortably) relevant to this year of our lord 2024. As Due notes in her author's note, these horrors are systemic and ongoing. We live in a society of incarceration and injustice, and we all know that there are still Haddocks viciously enforcing their own perverse tyranny in all corners of this country, while their communities look the other way. Hell, half of them would vote for Haddock for president. It's not the horror of a single monster, or the ghosts they leave behind; it's the horror of the community that protects and feeds the monster.

This book is admittedly intense, it will have your heart pounding and then fill you with grief; but it is also filled with human warmth and hope. I will not forget Robbie, Gloria, Redbone, or Blue any time soon. And I will always, always show up for anything Due writes.