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| (Cover Artist: Rob Wilson) |
In the serialized fiction podcast Welcome to Night Vale (a podcast set in a fictional town where "all conspiracy theories are true simultaneously"), there's a reoccurring character referred to only as the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home. Voiced by actress Mara Wilson, this deadpan figure often takes the form of a sinister yet also comedic agent in many of the town's day-to-day affairs--a supernatural entity who forcibly inserts herself into the intimate lives of the town's residents. Perpetually mysterious, and usually benign, as a character, the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home serves as an omnipresent malevolence who is of indeterminate age and origin--a metaphor (perhaps) for the repressed fears and anxieties that often linger below the surface of daily life.
It's via this concept that Night Vale co-creators Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor begin developing the plot of this tie-in novel to the Night Vale Podcast--a novel which explores the motivations and backstory of this nameless character. Rather than relying on their podcast's extensively developed mythology, both Fink and Cranor instead fall back on the simultaneously absurdist and also foreboding humor that has made their earlier work so successful. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home excels most when its authors navigate the simultaneously frightening and comedic nature of their protagonist's existence, never once allowing either of this book's two competing genres of horror and comedy to erase the other.
If The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home is taken as a horror story, then it's an inverted one whose events are depicted from a perspective that allows them to appear comedic. At the same time, if this same story is taken as a comedy, then it's a comedy whose humor is presented in such a way that quietly reminds the reader of the very legitimate danger that lingers constantly below the surface of its narrative.
The opening lines of The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home are perhaps the best possible introduction to this novel's protagonist. Beginning in the town of Night Vale in the year 2011, the first chapter opens with the titular Faceless Old Woman speaking directly to "Craig," a man whose home she secretly lives in, and whose personal affairs she has mysteriously chosen to occupy herself with. The novel begins:
I set your shoes on fire.
All of them. They're in the trash can by the rental office. They're still smoldering. The side of the plastic bin has melted away, and Stuart in apartment 413 has already made four calls to the super. He didn't answer because I locked him in his bathroom, because I didn't want the fire put out just yet.
It's nice: the smell of burning. I used to not like it, as it reminded me of a particularly bad moment in my early life. But that was so many years ago, and now I enjoy the smell of burning. Burning anything: rubber, cloth, skin in small amounts, hair (definitely hair), even wood. A fireplace on a cool winter night. A campfire on a warm summer night. A house as a family of four flees, leaving everything they've ever owned to be consumed by flames. Plus, there's true beauty in black ash quivering around bright orange edges. It's art, Craig. I know you appreciate art. (p.1)
While there's undeniably an element of humor in this passage, the initial impression which the reader gains regarding the narrator--that she is a kind of poltergeist who exists solely to cause chaos in the lives of her victims--is quickly asserted by her to be incorrect. Via her simultaneously amoral and disconcertingly calm narration, we as readers slowly learn what the Faceless Old Woman claims are her real motives in burning Craig's shoes--to ensure that he would be late for a date he had planned with his girlfriend, Giselle. Giselle is a person who the Faceless Old Woman is quick to clarify is wonderful in her own right, but who also is not right for Craig. In this way we learn (or at least are told by this book's unreliable narrator) that Craig is a man who hopes one day to marry and start a family, and that the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in his home--being an omniscient entity of indeterminate age who has secretly observed Craig for his entire life--has (seemingly) taken it upon herself to ensure that his dreams come to fruition.
Of course, as this book's ending ultimately reveals, there's more to the Faceless Old Woman's motives here than might first be apparent, with the true nature of her interests in Craig only being revealed gradually over the course of the text.
This modern-day narrative is punctuated with a series of lengthy flashbacks in which we learn of the Faceless Old Woman's early life. Starting on the coast of the Mediterranean in 1792, the Faceless Old Woman's story begins when her mother dies giving birth to her on the open ocean--an event which forces her impoverished father to take up a career as a smuggler in order to sustain the family estate. Years later when this father is murdered by the sinister crime syndicate "The Order of the Labyrinth," the Faceless Old Woman (for her name remains unspoken for the duration of this text) defies her father's dying wish and vows to infiltrate the Labyrinth's ranks, becoming a criminal herself so that she might one day be able to take revenge on the men she believes ordered her father's death.
While skillfully plotted, there's an element of melodrama to these portions of the novel which in some ways harms the book's larger story. As the Faceless Old Woman sets to work establishing a reputation for herself in the criminal underworld of seafaring pirates and mercenaries in the 1800s, the major decisions which come to govern the course of her life often come across as formulaic rather than compelling. Of particular note here is the moment when she makes the promise that comes to define the entire course of not just her life, but existence itself, and after her father's death pledges to find the leaders of the Order of the Labyrinth and murder them for what they have done. While certainly archetypal in its subject, the heavy-handedness of this scene (which takes place mere moments after the Faceless Old Woman's father has died--the ruins of her childhood home are even still burning behind her) drowns out much of the thematic significance of the moment.
That said, the occasional heavy-handedness of Fink and Cranor's plot is more than compensated for by the numerous and often fascinating elements of magic realism that their writing weaves into this story. As the narrative unfolds and the Faceless Old Woman journeys across the world in pursuit of her revenge, it's slowly established that this novel's quasi-historical setting exists in a realm somewhere between fact and fiction. Somehow set in a world that is neither a work of overt fantasy or historical realism, the story of the Faceless Old Woman's life eventually takes her to countries both real and imagined, and forces her to contend with historical events that clearly both did and did not happen. More often than not, fictional nations and civil uprisings are referenced with the same detached quality as real ones, with one realm flowing so freely into another that it's easy to imagine there is no difference between the two.
This adds a fascinating element of uncertainty to the book. It's not merely that the story we are reading is set in a fictional world, but that (much as with the Night Vale podcast) it often seems to be set in all worlds simultaneously (fictional or otherwise).
The Order of the Labyrinth is probably one of the best examples of these surreal story elements. Initially established as a ruthless criminal organization whose members kill in bizarre and often frightening ways, as the story progresses, the Faceless Old Woman finds that her quest to seek out her father's true killer is far more complicated than she ever could have imagined. Infiltrating the Order's lower ranks, she quickly learns that the majority of the Labyrinth's members seem to be people just like herself--individuals whose collective misfortunes have led them to a life of crime, and who have now been driven to work for a deadly smuggling organization in the slim hope that their fortunes might one day improve. Moreover, the people she finds herself taking orders from often seem no more knowledgable as to the Labyrinth's true nature than she is--the organization seemingly governed by an endless chain of command that may very well be a circle leading back to it's base.
In essence, the "Order of the Labyrinth" becomes (at least from the reader's perspective) a very literal labyrinth--an organization whose members seeming join in the hope of achieving some form of moral vindication or personal absolution, only eventually to find that their actions have been turned against them as they "lose their way" in an attempt to climb its ranks.
Yet this very overt metaphor for the dangers of sacrificing one's personal convictions for some imagined future is complicated by the fact that in several scenes, it's made very clear by Fink and Cranor that the Order of the Labyrinth does in fact have true leaders, even if the Faceless Old Woman cannot find them. Rather than being characterized as malicious individuals who cleverly manipulate others for their own ends, these mysterious figures are depicted as vaguely supernatural beings who look at the world with an apathetic detachment that is neither good nor evil.
In one especially memorable scene, the Faceless Old Woman encounters a sailing ship bearing the Labyrinth's flag while captaining her own vessel, and in the exchange that she has with this other vessel's crew, gains her first inkling that the Order of the Labyrinth may be something that is both more and also less than she has taken it to be.
We sailed alongside the Order ship, but it did not slow. I waved and pointed to our matching flag. Two sailors on the deck of the ship noticed us. One was not tall and the other was not short. They stared at us, or at least I felt they were staring at us. Their faces were completely covered by dark hoods.
"We have a gift for you," I called, but the men did not react. I could not tell if they were suspicious or annoyed by us. Would they thank us or kill us for attempting to board their ship with a gift?
Eventually, the one who was not tall signaled to the other, and they turned their attention away from The Wasp as their ship sped away. Before they left, I had gotten a good look at the stacks of brightly lit crates on the deck of their ship. The sun was hidden behind clouds that day, and I had seen no lanterns lit. The light emanated from the crates themselves. (p.153)
Ultimately, as with the other supernatural elements of this story, it's the fact that the Order's true nature and purpose is left ambiguous that makes this aspect of the plot so striking. As people battle, kill, and steal in the Order's name, this organization's true leaders seem to look on with cool detachment--neither relishing in the pain and suffering (supposedly) perpetrated on their behalf, nor even for that matter seeming to feel remorse for it whatsoever.
Meanwhile, as the years of the Faceless Old Woman's life pass in the 1800s, the years of Craig's life in modern-day Night Vale do so as well. Initially, Craig's story seems utterly separate from that of the Faceless Old Woman's, but as both narratives develop, subtle parallels emerge between the two. Slowly, Craig's actions and mistakes in life begin to mirror those of various characters from the Faceless Old Woman's past, with both stories building off of each other, all while we as readers gradually discover that there is something more (or rather less) than simple altruism to the Faceless Old Woman's desire that Craig be (as she claims) "happy."
It's here that the novel begins developing what eventually becomes an extraordinarily subtle element of horror, with both authors skillfully navigating the politics of both amusement and fear in such a way that never negates the realities of either of these emotions. While the story of Craig's misadventures under the unseen guidance of the Faceless Old Woman initially feels like the plot of a somewhat warped TV sitcom, this novel eventually becomes the story of a character who finds himself trapped under the unseen weight of a history he never knew he was responsible for. As Craig's life progresses, he slowly becomes aware of the Faceless Old Woman's influence, and begins struggling against it. This soon has disastrous results, with the Faceless Old Woman making it clear that she intends to ensure Craig's future prosperity, reenacting old crimes while privileging his life over the lives of others.
One particularly significant scene comes in the book's latter half. Here, Craig learns that the Faceless Old Woman has taken it upon herself to thwart the career prospects of his wife, Amaranta (thereby ensuring that she will be unable to gain a job). Growing angry with the Faceless Old Woman for what she has done to someone he genuinely cares for, Craig begins speaking directly to what is for him still an unseen entity.
The one-sided nature of this exchange (with only the Faceless Old Woman's dialogue being rendered in the text) highlights the way in which so far in this novel, our perspectives on these events have been deliberately constrained by the writers. The result is that we as readers realize for the first time how disturbing this initially comedic plot about Craig's life really is. In essence, this scene highlights how the story The Faceless Old Woman has told us we were reading is not the one we've actually been following.
What I'm trying to say is conserve your energy. Limit your frustration. Amaranta needs your fullest emotional support tonight.
Oh, look she's home. She's crying. Remember to listen more than talk, Craig. She needs you.
No. Don't yell.
You can't help her by being mad at forces neither of you can control.
She doesn't need your empathetic rage. She needs your comfort, your compassion.
Craig.
Stop yelling.
You're yelling at me.
You're upsetting your wife.
She's confused. (p.226)
As this narrative continues, the actions of the Faceless Old Woman begin to place increasing strains on Craig's life and existence, and in this way we as readers start to realize the real reason behind this character's interest in Craig's future--an interest that, despite what she has claimed, has nothing to do with his well-being whatsoever.
The final chapters of this book merge both the present day and historical portions of the book's narrative, with the story of the Faceless Old Woman's past bleeding together with her modern day life as an immortal, faceless entity who exists in a state that is perpetually unseen and unknowable. While these portions of the novel skew heavily into the horror genre, they also end up becoming some of the most thematically interesting segments in the book--a meditation, essentially, on the ways in which history lingers in people and places long after it has been forgotten (or erased).
In the end, The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home becomes a ghost story in which it is the ghost who has all the agency and power--a novel which charts one character's vast and unyielding 200-year long obsession to its disturbing culmination.
Even as someone who is not a fan of the horror genre, I found the authors' treatment of this material fascinating for how it subverts various horror archetypes. Skillfully balancing both humor and fear, while also exploring complex issues regarding the recollection of memory, the politics of history, and vested manifestations of social privilege, The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home is a fascinatingly unique novel--an inverted ghost story whose "ghost" is frightening not because she has died, but instead because she is very very much alive.