THE LAMPLIGHTER

Something is rotten in the New England whaling village of Warbler, and a young woman stands alone in her fight to expose the truth.

“It’s an honor to bring light to the dark.” Ever since losing her father to suicide four years ago and taking over his position as Warbler’s lamplighter, those are the words Irish American Temperance has lived by. Her lampposts act as bastions of comfort when choking fog blankets the village every night, fog that makes it all too easy for folk to lose themselves. When a girl disappears without a trace the same night that two lampposts mysteriously go out, Temperance’s reputation and livelihood suddenly hang in the balance. With no one she feels she can turn to for help, she struggles to clear her name, which soon leads to horrifying revelations. Will she speak her truth and be believed or, like her father, lose herself to the fog of despair? The novel is equal parts ghost story and feminist invocation. The first half of the story sets up tension—Temperance’s pride and isolation, the hopeless fury of being a woman in a man’s world, the uneasy intersection of fact and folklore—with considered care. The second half loses some ground in its exploration of what constitutes evil but never loses momentum. The twist at the end is satisfying, and the spooky atmosphere and (righteous) female rage linger like the town’s infamous fog.

Chilling.