I’ve been a huge admirer of Laird Barron’s short fiction for a while now — among many highlights, “Old Virginia” is the creepiest story I’ve read in the last few years — and was thus very intrigued to see his first novel, The Light is the Darkness, come out from Infernal House.

It’s a short novel, clocking in at a brisk 182 pages, and I have to admit that it’s not exactly what I expected. Much of Barron’s short fiction, and certainly the best of it, has a gritty, noirish quality, and is often firmly based in reality until the otherworldly elements start poking their way through the thin fabric of the everyday world. The Light is the Darkness, on the other hand, has a fantastical, over-the-top feel to it right from the get-go.

Conrad Navarro is a gladiator for the 21st century, a competitor in underground death-matches that cater to bored, rich clientele. The spectacles are perhaps a logical next-level from today’s ultimate fighting bouts, and Conrad is a champion in this blood sport, able to absorb huge amounts of punishment before launching his deadly counter-strikes. As Barron describes:

“Uncle Kosokian had also instructed young Conrad in the princely arts, including that of warfare and close combat, had groomed him for the clandestine spectacles of the Pageant and its gladiatorial exhibitions—a great and secret show that had played to the tune of obscenely rich patricians since ancient times. The man had participated in the secret arenas during his own sordid youth, had spilled his share of blood. He taught Conrad most everything there was to know about killing men and beasts for sport and profit.”

Brutish in appearance but possessing an intellect that’s the equal of his physical prowess, Conrad is consumed by the search for his missing sister, Imogene, an FBI agent who disappeared while conducting a search of her own, for a brilliant, evil scientist Dr. Drake, who may have murdered their brother Ezra.

The propensity of pulpish elements made suspension of disbelief a challenge for me at times, with the end result that I didn’t find The Light is the Darkness to be among Barron’s very best work. But that’s not to say that it’s not entertaining — because it is — or that it doesn’t feature some of Barron’s characteristically rich prose. For example:

“Daylight bleached his moonscape of a face. Black and blue on deadly nightshade, red meat bulged like an intestine in the corner of his right eye. The left eye was a glistening purple bud, clenched as a toddler’s fist, its roots sunk deep in a hidden fracture that yawned with each hoarse exhalation.”

Given the pricey nature of Infernal House’s very limited edition ($175, for a print run of 174), I can’t unreservedly recommend Barron’s debut novel, but if you’re a big fan of the author’s work and have some cash burning a hole in your pocket, it will probably be hard to say no to this one.

About Robert Morrish