Zombos Says: Excellent
Holiday House, a magical place where four seasons roll by in a single day, where children are free to spend their time doing exactly what they wish..
Ten-year old Harvey Swick is stuck in February like a fly on that gooey, sticky paper strip. He's bored, mired in routine, all tuckered out from not having a real life, the one he wants to live. Lord knows February can be brutal: there's not one real holiday in jumping distance. Only sparse days devoted to heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and Fat Tuesday bead necklaces, but those don't count much: not a boo, gobble gobble, or ho-ho-ho to be found. Tell me you don't have a little Harvey Swick stuckness in you, old or young, whatever your case may be, and I'll tell you no lies.
And lies are where it all begins. Young Harvey's done to a turn when Mr. Rictus flies through the bedroom window and points Harvey to Holiday House, a wonderful place where the seasons happen all in one day, every day, over and over. A long walk across town and a short one through the misty brick wall brings him there. Greeted by Mrs. Griffin, he's lavished with food, settled into his room, and introduced to the other children, Lulu and Wendell. Wendell is the fat kid. There always seems to be a fat kid named Wendell, or some such suitable name for fat kids. Wendell's been at the Holiday House for a long time, but not longer than Lulu. And she's been there too long already.
Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, they come and go, every day, in this illustrated edition of Clive Barker's The Thief of Always, adapted by Kris Oprisko and Gabriel Hernandez. Holiday House contains all those adventurous and mysterious things you'd expect a magical house should. Mr. Rictus acts cumulonimbusly-dark in motive and moves like a chilling wind, hunched over with his unwholesome goals in tow. And the Thief of Always, Mr. Hood, stays out of sight until Harvey Swick sees him for who and what and how he really is. Oprisko and Hernandez capture the dark and the light in Barker's novel, making us worry and wonder along with Wendell, Lulu, and Harvey Swick as they learn why too much of a good thing can lead to very bad things. Though, like them, we never really believe that until it happens.
Like the lake with those very large fish swimming around in it: not a good thing at all; or like Carna, whose wings are almost as large as his bite: not good either; and how about the other Holiday House family members like Jive, Rictus' brother, who is even paler than Rictus, and Marr, who is fatter than Wendell; they're not the kind of friendly people you ought to be friendly with.
Made of dreams and ancient dust and wishful things, Holiday House is very inviting, especially with Oprisko and Hernandez greeting you at the door. Just don't wake up Mr. Hood–even if he was the one who invited you–and you can always stay. Always.
Love me some Clive Barker. And this book wound up being one of my favorite children’s stories. Very chilling stuff that any self-respecting kid would love. Even if they’re just kids at heart.
I’ve heard really good things about this book, but have never had the chance to read it. Sounds like I’m really missing out, definitely gonna have to check it out.