The Possession of Mr. Cave by Matt Haig

Terence Cave, owner of Cave Antiques, has already experienced the tragedies of his mother's suicide and his wife's murder when his teenage son, Reuben, is killed in a grotesque accident. His remaining child, Bryony, has always been the family's golden girl and Terence comes to realise that his one duty in life is to protect her from the world's malign forces, whatever that may take.
 

But as he starts to follow his grieving daughter's movements and enforce a draconian set of rules, his love for Bryony becomes a possessive force that leads to destruction.

Unsettling, disturbing, and brilliant in a twisted way, The Possession of Mr. Cave by Matt Haig is an intense read that fully commits to its narrative. Whether most readers are prepared for what that entails is an entirely different discussion (definitely check trigger warnings before hand). The “horror” moniker gets tossed around quite loosely these days, ranging from slashers to psychological insanity to anything that is vaguely related to the supernatural. This book however taps into the quiet, heavy, foreboding type of horror that occurs when someone is witnessing something horrific but can’t look away or stop it; it’s conceptualized like a modern Shakespearean tragedy. The character narration and story is made all the more uncomfortable by Haig’s very effective use of the 2nd person perspective that pulls you into the story and traps you in Bryony’s shoes. The way the novel constantly refers to Bryony as “you” hits home the perspective of the characters and the horrors of what a parent is capable of doing. Complemented by excellent writing and Haig’s now distinctive heavily introspective style, I found this novel to be unlike anything I’ve read in a long time, one that I didn’t necessarily enjoy reading but one I nonetheless found impressive and rewarding to finish.

I’ve made it a personal goal to read all of Matt Haig’s novels and have started to get to some of his earlier, more obscure and overlooked works including this one (if you lookup rankings for his books and recommendations, some leave off The Dead Fathers Club and most don’t even recognize The Possession of Mr. Cave exists). Reading Haig’s early novels is fascinating as they are considerably darker and delve heavier into different mental conditions and breakdowns. They are also less restrained compared to his more mainstream works, yet you can still tell they are written by the same author with his recognizable style. The Possession of Mr. Cave is probably his most niche novel to date and follows similar themes and setup as The Dead Fathers Club. I used to consider The Radleys as the off-beat black sheep of his books but this one certainly takes the cake, with The Radleys acting as an interesting bridge and incorporating elements from these earlier bleak stories and his later more hopeful tales.

The title “The Possession of Mr. Cave” itself is a genius title that works for both definitions of the word “possessed”, as well as a metaphor for the workings of the internal mind. Presented as a letter written by Terence Cave to his daughter Bryony, the story chronicles Terence’s gradual spiral into madness and the effects that has on their relationship. The first reference of “possession” is the obvious supernatural element involving sights, feelings, and memories Terence experiences that lead both the reader and himself to believe he may be possessed by a deceased family member close to him. What starts initially as unusual visions and dreams turn into full-on episodes of uncontrollable actions, blackout moments, and relived memories that he couldn’t have possibly experienced. The novel makes it clear that these possession experiences are meant to portray Terence as being delusional, and as the story progresses, you start to wonder if he’s really just mad or if something is really happening to him. The 2nd person perspective works pitch perfect here and enhances the effect of the unreliable narrator element. Only a few select paragraphs during the story’s conclusion are written in a 3rd person perspective which leaves the entire rest of the story up for interpretation on what is real and what is not. Terence does creepy, horrible things to those around him and somehow finds a way to rationalize every action, but has he realized the error of his ways now as he’s writing his story to Bryony or did something in him break? The books resolution also leaves similar questions hinging heavily on whether the reader follows the supernatural interpretation or the more literal interpretation of events.

The second definition of “possession” is equally appropriate to the story, Mr. Cave’s possession of Bryony herself under his parental control. After experiencing a series of losses in his family, Terence’s fatherly concerns for his daughter’s safety and well-being morphs into that of complete sheltering, control, deprivation of freedom and grossly unhealthy possession. Unsettling, creepy, extreme, and at times disturbing, Terence’s blindness to the pain and damage he inflicts on Bryony and everyone around her is portrayed with such intensity and horror. This is made all the more conflicting with each of his actions prefaced by his own deduction and rational in the best interest of Bryony. While his controlling nature would be tough to stomach on its own, Terence’s distorted rational and internal decision making makes it all ever worse. Is this pleasant to read? Absolutely not. Is it a page-turner, inspiring gross fascination of how much worse Terence can go? Yes.

The third interpretation of “possession” is more a metaphorical one with Terence being possessed not by voices of the deceased, but by Terence’s own mental state. While Terence is without question the “villain” of his own story, a lot of the narrative can be interpreted as the suffering and spiraling of a man unable to process his grief and potentially pre-existing mental illnesses that are aggravated by recent deaths. Terence exhibits clear signs of OCD, some type of attachment disorder, eventually paranoia, all conditions that heavily affect and color what he sees. The portrayal of his mother Cynthia and others trying to reason with Terence only to be dismissed due to his own reasoning is very well done. While a lot has changed in recent years compared to when this book was published in 2008, there is still a negative stigma associated with mental illnesses and therapy which this book loosely points to. Whether it was a conscious choice or not, this can also be interpreted as commentary on the general state of British Mental Health care and societal views. Had Terence been forced by Cynthia or others to address his past trauma and grief, this entire tragedy could have easily been avoided. This is most poignant in the concluding pages where Terence relives some of his childhood neglect and finally acknowledges the latent “evil” within him and questions whether these thoughts were a recent development or a flaw that was always a part of him. The intense immediate judgment and unfair prejudice he has against some characters are only further insight into his mental instability and his unconscious choice to see the worst possible scenario in every situation.

Unless you find joy in other peoples’ misery (admittingly me at times, oops), none of the above content would be remotely tolerable or worth reading if not for Haig’s impeccable writing. You know the situation can only end badly but it’s the experience and details along the way that make the descent into madness worthwhile. Terence’s characterization and decision making, despite being heavily flawed and crazy, is so well done and rationalized in the most twisted manner. While incapable of following or reading social cues (I considered this might’ve alluded to Haig’s own experiences of being diagnosed on the spectrum but removed this part of the review for its lack of relevance to the story), his actions and choices make perfect logical sense in his mind. His decisions always manage to make the worst decision from the reader’s perspective, but the way Haig humanizes and twists Terence’s well-meaning intentions into something unrecognizable is impeccable. While I’ve taken issue with the pacing in some of Haig’s more recent novels, this one is one of the most consistent, aided by its relatively short length and intensity.

Despite the dark content that feels worlds away from The Midnight Library, The Humans or How to Stop Time, Haig’s style is still recognizable here. Perhaps freed thanks to the narrator’s unhinged psyche, all of Haig’s strengths are on full display. The meandering yet thought-provoking self-reflections, the internalized guilt, questioning life, it’s all here in The Possession of Mr. Cave. The dark premise allows Haig to dig deep into the worst parts of human behavior without any of the quirks or fantasy elements to dull the impact or to require a “happy ending.” To be sure, the story is not a happy ending and is a frank tragedy to all involved. I had written in my notes that reading this novel felt like a modern Shakespearean tragedy in which good intentions go so bad, which is completely and accidentally on the nose considering Haig’s first two novels The Last Family in England and Dead Fathers Club are based on Shakespearean plays (I was going to say tragedies specifically, though Henry IV, Part 1 isn’t technically a tragedy). Everything that can go wrong goes wrong, and that makes a fascinating read. While I can’t imagine anyone possibly giving The Possession of Mr. Cave a 5-star rating for pure enjoyability, it certainly deserves high marks for its objective strengths and excellent writing (4.5 rating from me overall).