The Church of Dead Girls

Despite its superficial resemblance to a whodunit, The Church of Dead Girls is not a conventional thriller. Don’t expect it to be suspenseful. This is a literary horror tale–slow paced, contemplative, meticulous in its descriptions–about a formerly sleepy small town in which the crucial distinction between public and private life is dissolving as suspicion spreads like a toxin. The reader’s guide to this process of corruption is a high school biology teacher–reserved, somewhat snotty, but a thoughtful man, and reliable in spite of his cynicism. He says, “It is dreadful not to be allowed to have secrets. Years ago I happened to uncover a nest of baby moles in the backyard and I watched them writhe miserably in the sunlight. We were like that.” Ultimately you realize that the killer’s identity, even the deaths of three girls, are small matters compared to the collapse of the town’s very soul.