Book Review: Revelator, A Hypnotic Tale of God and the Mountains

Book Review: Revelator, A Hypnotic Tale of God and the Mountains

This review does not contain spoilers.


I've always been drawn to the darker side of southern Appalachia: the haints, the rural Christian cults, the old gods in the mountains. So, when I first stumbled upon this list of 'Appalachian Gothic Weirdness,' curated by Tor Books' relatively new horror imprint, Nightfire, I knew I had struck gold (or, perhaps, coal). At the heart of the list was a novel with a premise that immediately caught my attention: Revelator by Daryl Gregory.

Set in the  Smoky Mountains of Tennessee during the 1930s and '40s, the tale follows our protagonist, Stella, along two timelines. In the first, Stella is a child of just nine years old dropped off on a rural farm under the care of her grandmother, a mean old woman named Motty. As Stella comes of age on the farm she learns about (and is indoctrinated into) a mysterious religion in which she holds special significance, as her mother and grandmother had before her. The women of Stella's family are the eponymous Revelators; they are the only ones who can commune with the God of the Mountain — a giant, spiderlike creature that lives deep in a cavern beneath the farm.

The other timeline follows Stella, now an adult (and a moonshiner), after having left her grandmother and the family religion behind. She receives word that Motty has died, leaving the newest Revelator — a child named Sunny — without a caretaker. Afraid of something she knows and we don't, Stella must rush back to the farm and prevent the rest of her zealous family from overpowering the child with their faith.


“Autumn in the Smokies made for the world’s prettiest forest fire.”
The Smoky Mountains with their famous morning fog, November 2021 — photo by Ursula Wren

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel, and despite some criticism saying that the reader didn't care much about the plot or the characters, I thought both were enrapturing. It could be characterized as a bit of slow burn, especially if you go in looking for more outright horror than atmosphere; the horror of this book is the quiet kind, the kind that creeps up on you as you unravel its web of secrets. Through darkly humorous prose and complex characters that seem to jump right off the page, I had trouble putting it down until I had finished it.


You can pick up a copy of Revelator from Bookshop.

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