There was a great opportunity to expand on the spiritual backstory that defines the main characters’ culture of origin. Unfortunately, Little swapped that substance with gratuitous descriptions of incestuous child masturbation, misogynistic depictions of young women, and sexual violence that reeked of projection. If evil is to blame for the dark chaos that plagued the town, it was a poor use of a literary mechanism to further vomit obscenely crafted scenes.
The narration was fine, but the narrator had a mismatched voice for the story. He sounded a bit like Allen Alda and would likely do better at mystery thrillers or procedural drama.
The prose was well-crafted. Pacing and emphasis were well-executed. A broad lexicon and the well-timed use of words for impact and effect made the story engaging. I never felt fully in suspense or a deep sense of dread, but there was an air of mystery that was captivating. It would have been more so if better attention had been given to character and setting depth than figuring out how to go from misplaced dishes to teenage boy jacks it to his barely adult sister.