Red X by David Demchuk
Many thanks to Soho Press and NetGalley for sharing an
advanced copy of David Demchuk’s truly haunting and frightening book Red X.
The book is part novel and part memoir, examining how both systemic and social violence
against the LGBTQ+ community in Toronto creates terror and horror for those who
are marginalized in society. Furthermore, Demchuk uses the notorious serial
murders in Toronto’s Gay Village between 2010 and 2017 to further explore how
the LGBTQ+ community often experiences further institutional violence when disappearances
are not investigated. It’s a fascinating and troubling examination of the kinds
of skepticism, violence and the lack of voice and agency that some of us do not
experience on a daily basis. If anything, Demchuk’s story generated considerable
empathy in trying to understand the barriers and threats that many in the LGBTQ+
community face on a daily basis. Nevertheless, this book was challenging,
disturbing, and gory, making for an engaging, but complicated read. I ended up
appreciating this book, not only for the horror elements, but also for its unique
development that includes a synthesis of horror, history, folklore, and social
issues. I also recognize that this is not a book for everyone, especially due
to the gore, violence, and the sheer terror that many of the characters
experience throughout the book. Nevertheless, reading the book pays off in many
ways, as readers gain a sense of empathy and understanding about how groups
that are often marginalized and sometimes historically stigmatized face
incredible challenges and barriers to being authentic and free, yet also find
community and support among their own.
Red X begins with the founding of Toronto, and how
the different regions within the city were divided among the different social
classes and ethnicities that arrived in the city. Through this kind of
historical overview, we see how the Gay Village was eventually established and
how minorities were moved towards the fringes of the city, left to establish
their own enclaves, which the Gay Village did with “a hodgepodge of bars,
clubs, bathhouses and pubs, small shops and restaurants clustered around the
intersection of Church and Wellesley.” The book takes place across nearly 40
years around the Gay Village, and starts with the mysterious disappearances of
young gay men at the height of the AIDS epidemic, when little was known about
the disease, yet much was speculated about its origins and transmissions.
Demchuk not only reminds readers of the kind of social fear that AIDS brought
with it but also mentions how popular films shaped some of nightmares and fears
of the time, mentioning that Ghostbusters and A Nightmare on Elm
Street were both released around the summer of 1984. I can see how both
films factor into the story, where Ghostbusters deals with the invasion
of terror and horror in a metropolis, with many unsure of why the dead are
coming back to haunt the living. In many ways, it’s the absence of these
missing men that haunt those who shared relationships, support, and friendships
with them. While in Ghostbusters, a team assembles to fight against
these supernatural powers, there’s no such support for Toronto’s LGBTQ+ community.
In fact, readers learn how hostile law enforcement is towards the community,
taking bribes to avoid busting the bars and bathhouses that provide a sense of camaraderie
and acceptance to this marginalized community. However, it’s A Nightmare on
Elm Street that shares more of the supernatural elements with Red X,
as we learn that the force that is absorbing and feeding on these missing men
can arrive in their dreams. Much like Freddy Krugar, who haunts the young of Springfield’s
dreams as retribution against their parents, we learn that Nicholas, the shape
shifting wolfman, who we learn is also a barghest, a kind of devil dog, haunts
many of his victims and their loved ones in their sleep. Nicholas is truly one
of the most terrifying monsters I’ve come across in books recently, with the
ability prey on the marginalized by attacking their fears. He also reminded me
a little of Pennywise from It in that he attacks those who are weak and
marginalized, sometimes offering a form of respite and comfort. He also has the
ability to shape shift and take on various forms. Nevertheless, I loved Demchuk’s ability to incorporate
history, folklore, and his own personal experiences of his early fears and emerging
sexuality to further explore the kind of fear, isolation, and community that
all are an integral part of this book.
Also like Pennywise, Nicholas seems to strike in 8-year
intervals, which is when the book takes place, 1984, 1992, 2000, 2008, and 2016.
Throughout the book, we learn about the various men who disappear, and about
their own journeys from other regions in Canada and around the world, their
fears and longings, and how Nicholas used this to engaging and eventually
consume them. Nicholas also shares a book with his victims, encouraging them to
write in it. The book is fascinating, as it contains the writings of others
that Nicholas has encountered over time, and includes various languages and
images that are not always clear to those who encounter it. The one thing that
I wished about this book was that it would have included some examples from Nicholas’s
book as it seemed like an odd, but compelling artifact from time. The book
shows up and disappears from those who encounter it, and it is often described
as possessing an odd, rotten smell, and also possibly appearing wet and rotten.
This book, along with Nicholas’s appearances in random places at night, including
dreams, often filled me with dread, but made me keep reading to learn more
about what might happen to those with whom he comes into contact.
Each year in Red X focuses on specific men who
disappear and their friends and loved ones’ attempts to locate them. Often the
men leave behind their clothes or belongings, but no other trace of them
remains. Since many of the men are marginalized, it sometimes takes days or
weeks for others to notice their absences. I appreciated Demchuk using horror
fiction as a way to highlight the kind of systemic inequality and violence that
this community experiences, and how many times the violence and death that they
experience is often explained away or blamed on their identities. It happened in
Milwaukee with Jeffrey Dahmer’s victims, and
Demchuk notes how the victims of Bruce McArthur also experienced this
kind of doubt, lack of investigation and resources into their disappearances
and blame for their violent demise. It’s the blending of fact and fiction that
creates a powerful narrative that does more than just tell a story, but
highlights the kind of injustice and inequality that persists in society.
Furthermore, Demchuk also includes his own reflections and experiences at the
end of each 8-year period. At first, I found this somewhat intrusive, as it
disrupted the narrative; however, as I read on, I appreciated his own insights
into his fears, his complicated relationship with his parents and family, and
his emerging sexual identity as a gay man, and how Toronto provided a sense of
community for him. It was interesting to trace his identity development and see
how he becomes more confident and secure in his sexual identity as the
community grows and develops despite the continued threats and violence that it
experiences. Furthermore, as the narrative moves towards 2016, Demchuk merges the
fictional with his memoir, creating a hybrid horror story that was fascinating
to read. Some of the characters who come into contact with the book and their
missing loved ones in dreams reach out to Demchuk over Facebook to learn more
about his research into folklore and mythological creatures like the barghests,
creatures from Wales and Scotland, who served as a kind of death omen. I loved
learning more about these creatures, and Demchuk uses this folklore in a
creative way throughout the book.
Red X is definitely not a book for everyone, but I
was glad that I found this book and that Soho Press decided to republish the
book (it was originally published in 2021). I hope that more people will read
it because it is a rewarding read. However, it does come with trigger warnings
about the gore, terror, and violence, both physical and systemic, that the characters
experience. Nevertheless, reading about this kind of violence and inequality made
me more aware of the kinds of barriers and challenges that people in the LGBTQ+
community experience. Additionally, Red X is a great horror story that
preys on many of our fears of isolation, rejection, and loneliness, while also
creating a kind of hybrid narrative style that is unique to horror. Highly
recommended!
No comments:
Post a Comment