Review of The September House by Carissa Orlando

By Ibi Kaslik

Ibi Kaslik is an internationally published novelist, freelance writer, editor and teacher. Her first novel, Skinny, was a New York Times bestseller. Skinny has also been published in numerous countries. A native of Toronto, Ibi teaches
creative writing at The University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies and works as an arts educator. Ibi’s third novel is forthcoming.

Orlando, Carissa. The September House. Berkeley, 2023.

September House, like all good ghost stories, begins with the conditional conceit of “what if?”, taken to its maximum spooky hilt. In September House, the conceit is: what if a haunted house was not only teeming with specters but also interacted with its inhabitants? What if once a month it bleeds and howls and consumes itself with rage and sorrow?

Margaret and Hal, a middle-aged couple, purchase what they believe to be their dream home, but it turns out to be a complete nightmare. First, there is Fredricka, the friendly but gnarly looking housekeeper, who has a gash in her head from an axe that “had sunk in over a hundred years ago.” Then there are Elias and Angelica, two children who bite and point, respectively, along with a chorus of other poltergeists, ghouls and friendly companions, who are unable to leave the manor and their trauma behind. 

September is the cruelest month for Margaret and Hal as this is the time when the walls seep blood; birds crash into the windows, and the young ghosts cause endless chaos and destruction. It is during the fourth season of their home ownership that Hal, Margaret’s alcoholic, abusive husband, disappears. Preoccupied by the sanguine walls and endless cleanup and dramas unfolding within the house, Margaret is surprised when her angry and estranged daughter Katherine arrives to investigate her father’s disappearance.

Much of the tension occurs in the story around Margaret keeping the literal and psychic viscera of trauma and violent contents in check and out of Katherine’s sight, as well as having the reader wonder whether or not these hauntings are even real or just a part of Margaret’s CPTSD.

The fact that Margaret persists in remaining in this horror show of an abode is also curious; it’s a question I frequently posed when reading. At times Margaret’s refusal to leave the house is not entirely believable. Although she claims she must stay and refuses to relinquish her home, insisting that “[t]here are rules to these things. Everything is survivable,” one wonders about proposing a more compelling reason, rather than mere possessive homeownership. 

Later in the novel, Margaret points out the parallel between her abusive relationship with Hal and the house, stating that she feels “the house and Hal had the same sorts of feelings about my leaving.” She explains that she never liked to the leave the house unattended for long periods of time, even abandoning a cart full of groceries after spying a long queue at the cashier, in lieu of keeping the house waiting. While this symbolic tether of a trauma bond makes sense at the thematic level of the text, as a reader I needed a more concrete justification for her to constantly choose to clean hoards of dead birds off the lawn and attempt to ebb the flow of the “[c]lotting red waterfalls” instead of simply walking away.

Atmospherically, the novel is gory yet also lighthearted; tonally, as Margaret’s normalization of the sickening tasks she must see to each day, is almost desensitizing. Readers who don’t need a lot of plot and prefer a slow character burn and description will enjoy this narrative; however, if you are looking for a plot-heavy book, September House is not that. As mentioned, most of the story consists of Margaret going from task to task, with the interruption of Katherine heading out on investigative trips to follow up on clues about Hal’s last whereabouts. As Katherine slowly pieces together her father’s last days, the central evil force of the house, located in the basement begins to erupt.

The two plot lines, that of the house and that of the Master Vale, a pedophilic child murderer whose ghost inhabits the basement, and controls the children of the house, culminates in a finale of excessive carnage–readers with a love of gore will enjoy it while those more interested in the psychological aspects may be disappointed. Personally, I would have appreciated more backstories about the many ghosts and Master Vale, as well as more context around their relationship history.

Overall, September House is an original concept but cannot quite decide what kind of book it is: Haunted house mystery? A meditation on abuse and coercive control? Or a bloodfest?