In Martin Cahill's "The Angel's Share," an exciting work of original fiction for Reactor, a woman hires an exorcist to clear an infestation of 32 angels who think they're helping her. (They are not.)
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
I found this unpleasant and mostly not in a compelling way - the angels were creepily good, but I found Mrs. Mead annoying and Jude generic. I was speed-scrolling through and just decided to call it. DNF somewhere near the end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Read on the recommendation of Claire Cooney, who writes some pretty terrifying angels herself.
The writing was gorgeous. The nature of angels was ultimately a little hard to parse, and consequently the metaphysics of the universe of the story was a bit hard to parse, but that wasn't the focus of the story; the focus was on cruelty, suffering, and revenge.
It got me thinking about cruelty, about suffering, about how we say "it's not an oppression Olympics," and yet we also agree (I think???) that some pains are more severe than others. I think about how people's reactions to experiences can be so very, very different. Recently someone told me with satisfaction that the person who had killed their brother was later tortured to death, so like... that's a real thing. But there are also people who plead with courts for their kid's killer not to be executed. So that's real too.
I found the first aspect highly unsettling and the second aspect almost not enough to let me shed the stress of the first part. I'm not sure I understood or quite believed in whatever made possible the change. But the story was definitely a powerful read.
The angels in this are parasites - they feed on a persons suffering and pain. Both them, and the pain, can only be exercised by the person holding onto it. A book about abuse, trauma, suffering and how it’s easier to stay in what you know and feed that cycle, instead of letting go and moving on from what wronged you.
What do angels and demons have in common? Haunting the living and getting their powers from us! Each operate differently, but at the end it is a very unhealthy life if we have them around!
“And angels, well.” Jude chuckled as he reached into his coat pocket for a match. “Angels are everything they say and more. Miracles? Done and done. Light? They have that in abundance. Prayers? Oh, they’ll answer you, time and time again. But they are also moths, and they’re drawn to the flame of suffering. The brighter the hurt, the more angels flutter and clutter around it, aching to eat that hurt and make it better by any means necessary.”
The idea of angels as a parasitic infestation drawn by suffering could be the basis for something wonderfully gothic, but filtered through this cloying, sub-Gaiman literary-adjacent style of fantasy vignette, is instead reduced to faux-wisdom on trauma and healing that ends up feeling terribly trite: "It felt good to be seen as a person, by another person, in this house of ghosts and angels." It doesn't help that Cahill's angelic taxonomy, with its smitebringers and sundrifters, rings deeply naff compared to the classic thrones, dominions et al.
In this story, angels can perform miracles for a person. But they also need to feed on the person, and what they feed on are the bad feelings; angel, rage, revenge. The person in question finally calls an exorcist to banish the angels. But then the exorcist discovers the source of her anger and frustration, and it is not something the exorcist can get rid of: only the person can do so. But what if the person doesn't want to? A rather grim story about hitting back at the source of a person's trauma, and what it would take to finally heal and exorcise the angels, in this case.
I feel that sometimes people use fiction to work through their trauma, but this one felt a little too trauma heavy for me to fully enjoy it. It's a well written piece though, I just couldn't fully connect with it.