Gr 5–10—Children have gone missing for centuries in Byers Guerdon, and rumors of a dark curse and a ravenous evil haunt those who choose to remain there. When 12-year-old Cora and her little sister, Mimi, are sent to live with their elderly aunt in Guerdon Hall, their only wish is to go home and have nothing more to do with creepy old houses and secretive adults. Then, they meet two of the village boys and explore places best left alone, awakening a monster and resurrecting the nightmare once more. Can Cora save her sister from the clutches of Long Lankin and end the curse once and for all? This debut horror story set in Britain during the late 1940s starts slowly but weaves a chilling spell that will immerse readers in this world and hold them through to the breathless conclusion. With densely packed writing and a heavy dose of historical slang and colloquialisms unfamiliar to North American readers, this is a story for sophisticated readers who enjoy a good scare. Fans of Clare B. Dunkle's atmospheric horror stories such as By These Ten Bones (2005) and House of Dead Maids (2010, both Holt) are likely to enjoy this spine-tingling selection.—Stephanie Whelan, New York Public Library
Something's wrong with Cora and Mimi's mother, so their father sends them to live with their Aunt Ida, and she is none too happy when they arrive. Guerdon Hall, the sisters' temporary home, is immense, dark, and terrifying, both to them and to Aunt Ida. First published in the U.K., Barraclough's debut, which is based on a centuries-old British ballad, is a ghost story through and through, chock-full of mysterious apparitions, strange voices, cryptic warnings, and townsfolk who chorus beware, all of which frighten Cora and her new friend, a local boy named Roger, and compel them to uncover the mystery hovering over Guerdon Hall. Told in alternating first-person narratives belonging to Cora, Roger, and Aunt Ida, Barraclough's prose is often poetic; while beautiful, it also makes this strange story dense and initially difficult to access. Readers will likely get a sense of where the story is headed early on, but uncovering the complicated, sad history of Ida's life and the ways in which Cora and Mimi have become tangled in its legacy will compel them to its finish. Ages 12–up. (July)
Like all the best scary stories, this will haunt readers well after the tale has been told, leaving teens who have long thought themselves too old for the bogeyman double-checking the locks on their doors.Long Lankin is an intense journey that is carefully paced and wonderfully dark.
Narrator Anne Flosnik does not disappoint in this dark debut novel that might best be enjoyed with the lights on and the windows locked. When Cora and her little sister, Mimi, are sent to live with their eccentric Auntie Ida, they accidentally awaken an ancient evil that has haunted her rural town for generations. Flosnik is as adept at portraying the innocent squeals of 4-year-old Mimi as she is at the scratchy, hardened voice of Auntie Ida. Narrating in alternating voices, Flosnik's subtle adjustments to both accent and tone allow the listener to know exactly who is speaking. Her breathless pace leads to a chilling conclusion that's as loud and as horrifying as Long Lankin himself. M.D. © AudioFile 2013, Portland, Maine
FEBRUARY 2013 - AudioFile
A thoroughly terrifying, centuries-old monster stalks two children sent from London to stay with their great-aunt in the country. Cora and little sister Mimi's Auntie Ida could hardly be less welcoming when they show up at her door, sent by their father while their Mum, always prone to "funny moods," is away--again. They must keep the windows and doors locked, even though the crumbling old house is steaming in the summer heat. They mustn't explore in the house, or go down to the marshes, or--especially--go down to the old church. Roger and his brother Pete, local boys, are also forbidden to go there, but when the four children fall in together, down to the church they go--and wake up Long Lankin. He likes them young. This atmospheric, pulse-pounding debut makes the most of its rural, post–World War II setting, a time and place where folklore uneasily informs reality. Barraclough controls her narrative with authority, shifting voices and tenses to provide both perspective and the occasional welcome respite from tension. The actual threat remains mostly unknown for almost the first half of the book, evident mostly in the long scratches by the door, the fetid stench of the church, the secretiveness of the villagers and, overwhelmingly, Auntie Ida's frank terror. If some of the historical exposition comes very conveniently, readers won't care--they will be too busy flipping the pages as Long Lankin closes in. A good, old-fashioned literary horror tale for sophisticated readers. (Historical fantasy. 10-14)
