Publishers Weekly
★ 02/06/2023
Throughout this crisply written urban horror novel, Sullivan (Waste) makes a chilling case for humanity’s obsolescence. Ostensibly, the Marigold is a luxury tower in downtown Toronto. Actually, it’s a dilapidated wreck, emblematic of the city’s decay in the face of climate change, increasingly frequent sinkholes, and a moldlike eruption dubbed the Wet. Public health worker Cathy Jin and her partner, Jasmine, do their best to eradicate the Wet even as it evolves beyond their control, engulfing both buildings and people. At the same time, 13-year-old Henrietta Brakes climbs into one of the mammoth sinkholes in a futile attempt to rescue a friend who’s been dragged down. Meanwhile, Toronto’s movers and shakers discuss new civic developments, led by Stanley Marigold. Stanley’s father built the eponymous structure and now Stanley is eager to validate himself by erecting a second Marigold tower—and he’s willing to pay for each new construction with human sacrifice. Through linked vignettes, Sullivan peels back the layers of Toronto residents’ desperation to reveal a disturbing truth: though condo pitchmen promise customers a secure, worry-free existence, only through succumbing to the Wet can the characters find peace. This impressively bleak vision of the near future is as grotesquely amusing as it is grim. (Apr.)
From the Publisher
This impressively bleak vision of the near future is as grotesquely amusing as it is grim.” — Publishers Weekly Starred Review
“Sullivan’s story blends body horror, urban dystopia, and eco-horror into a unique tale about the high price of progress.” — Library Journal
“The ecohorror angle provides something different for horror fans and climate activists alike.” — Booklist
“A bold dystopian novel that captivates with its dread and depth. The Marigold is unhinged literary horror that goes right to the source of decay.” — Iain Reid, award-winning author of I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Foe, and We Spread
“Sullivan cultivates a truly suffocating atmosphere of economic and social tension, a sense that the world has moved beyond the verge of collapse and into a long, slow slide to oblivion. This is urban horror done right, layered with the cold, unalloyed terror of watching the world crumble in real time. The Marigold is a back-breaker for the genre.” — Gretchen Felker-Martin, author of Manhunt
“Andrew F. Sullivan’s books delve into dark territories other writers are too timid to explore, finding nuance and emotional resonance in that stony soil. The Marigold has all the hallmarks of his past work while being something all its own, daunting and daring and just a little scary.” — Craig Davidson, bestselling author of The Saturday Night Ghost Club and Precious Cargo
“Andrew F. Sullivan’s The Marigold is a Cronenbergian Bonfire of the Vanities, a scalpel-sharp near-future thriller about an all-consuming city in thrall to greed and power, and the disparate creatures, human and otherwise, caught in its draintrap. A gripping tour-de-force torn from tomorrow’s headlines.” — David Demchuk, author of Red X and The Bone Mother
Library Journal
03/01/2023
The latest from Sullivan (Waste; All We Want Is Everything) gives new meaning to the term "urban blight." The novel's near-future Toronto is still standing while other parts of the world suffer environmental catastrophes. There, condo towers like the Marigold promise a better standard of living, even as their structures steadily fall apart. While the city gains more substandard buildings, there's also something growing beneath it—a strange fungus called the Wet. Citizens like public health inspector Cathy Jin and driver Sam "Soda" Dalipagic soon learn how deep the rot runs beneath Toronto. Delving into different perspectives, from drivers just trying to survive the polluted streets to the one percent that exist far above the filth, Sullivan illustrates an urban hierarchy that seems ready to topple. There are a lot of perspectives to juggle in this novel, but Sullivan never loses sight of the story's villains: the Wet that permeates the city, and those who have made their own Faustian bargains to keep building. VERDICT Sullivan's story blends body horror, urban dystopia, and eco-horror into a unique tale about the high price of progress.—James Gardner
