Just a Howl by Will Richter: A Collection of Contrasting Emotions
Rating: 3.25/5 ⭐
Some books leave you with answers; others leave you with a peculiar assortment of emotions that refuse to settle. Will Richter’s Just a Howl belongs to the latter category. This collection of stories moves through gloom, oppression, nostalgia, gender struggles, and unsettling ambiguities. While some stories linger in the mind long after reading, others test the reader’s patience.
Inevitability, Oppression, and the Need for Control
The collection opens with a mix of emotions. However, the theme of “inevitability” in the initial stories is so pungent that I begin to feel gloomy. Their somewhat ambiguous endings only deepen that gloom. The proverb story, with its oil-shiny streets, and Krystal with a K evoke an odd sadness that I cannot quite explain. References to the Stoics and Hugh Hefner add another layer to the experience. I particularly appreciate the effective use of proverbs, especially “no fool like an old fool” and “that’s the door”.
The dentist and Oilboy stories introduce oppression so skilfully that their atmosphere becomes suffocating. The trophy wife and Python metaphor is another memorable touch. As I encounter Tom Bromley and then Val, the collection begins to regain my interest. Val’s tetka becomes an interesting narrative node, revealing the varied inclination towards control in Val and the protagonist’s father.
Moving through these different degrees of control, I arrive at Counterfactual, where gender struggles, an isolated island cult, and the recollection of memories make for compelling reading. Rachel’s character particularly intrigues me, leaving me wanting to explore more.
Hausa’s phrase “like a brunch in Berlin” stays with me like a little prick of a rose thorn, while the Fairy King feels like a forgotten, nostalgic beacon.
Why Mermaid Stands Out
Mermaid is my favourite story in the collection, thanks to its deeply atmospheric elements and metaphors. The lighthouse, the sea, the boat, and Claire contribute to its atmosphere, while the discovery involving the robin eggs introduces a contrasting element of shock.
Unfortunately, my enthusiasm dips again with Klara’s story. It feels painfully long, and Klara’s character is already getting on my nerves. Interestingly, the final stories seem to share this problem of excessive length, making the collection feel uneven.
The Opening and Ending: A Literary Gamble
There is a reason authors pay particular attention to the opening and closing stories of a collection. A compelling opening can draw readers into the book, establish its tone, and encourage them to continue. A powerful final story can leave a lasting impression, retrospectively enriching the reading experience. When both ends are particularly strong, they can give a collection a satisfying sense of unity.
However, this approach also carries risks. Positioning the strongest stories at the beginning and end can make the intervening stories feel comparatively weaker. It may also create an expectation that the rest of the collection struggles to fulfil. Conversely, a deliberately subdued opening or ambiguous ending can be effective when it serves a larger artistic purpose.
In Just a Howl, I find the opening and closing stories either ambiguous or somewhat underwhelming, although The Language of Forgetting has considerable potential. The length of the final story also seems to dilute its central theme. For me, the collection's stronger moments lie elsewhere, particularly in Mermaid and Counterfactual.
Final Verdict
Just a Howl offers a diverse range of emotions, intriguing metaphors, and recurring questions about control, oppression, gender, and memory. Its atmospheric strengths are undeniable, but uneven pacing, lengthy stories, and some less satisfying narrative resolutions prevent it from becoming a consistently engaging read.
Nevertheless, its stories leave behind an unusual assortment of feelings—some gloomy, some nostalgic, and some difficult to explain.
So yes, indeed, it is Just a Howl.
Rating: 3.25/5
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