It Rides a Pale Horse

It takes two chapters of dazzling if disjointed overwriting for Marino’s second horror novel (after The Seven Visitations of Sydney Burgess) to hit its stride, but as the relationship between sculptor Lark and his painter sister, Betsy, comes into focus, a sophisticated blend of high art and small-town gore likewise emerges. Lark grew up in Wofford Falls, left, and has now returned under mysterious circumstances. He’s become a big deal, but not too big to personally deliver a sculpture to anonymous buyers up the road—only to discover that they’ve abducted Betsy and will kill her unless Lark fulfills a grisly commission inspired by an 18th-century psalter. From this implausible premise, the bare bones of the plot develop predictably: Lark steadily abandons his moral compass, Betsy paints in frenzied parallel in her dungeon, and the reader’s dread of their artistic confluence grows. The telling, however, is proportionately complex, invoking vast swaths of culture and history. There are disappointing slips into the misogynistic trope that a man’s greatest horror is to be rendered impotent by a woman, but a compensating strength is Marino’s rendering of the minor characters, whose steadfastness and humor keep the story grounded even in its wildest flights. It’s more style than substance, but it’s stylish indeed. Agent: Cameron McClure, Donald Maass Literary. (Oct.)