The Bright Lands - John Fram
I’m going to make a bold statement, and I promise you it’s not hyperbole: with The Bright Lands John Fram has written a better Stephen King novel than King himself has in over a decade. I know, I know; but hear me out…
I’m getting the King stuff out up front because if I were a writer publishing my debut novel, and someone kept comparing the work born of my blood, sweat, and tears to someone else’s, I’d probably get quite sick of it. But King is a master, so any comparison is intended as a compliment, and the similarities between The Bright Lands and a classic King novel are too striking to not mention.
Fram has done what King does best: create a realistic portrait of small-town America filled with a cast of vivid, lifelike characters. Where Fram has taken that further, however, is place the socio-political forces at work in this small town, front and centre. Fram has written a very literary novel, with subtle elements of the genre fiction King is known and loved for.
I was drawn to The Bright Lands, initially, because I identified with the introduction to the protagonist in the blurb:
“Joel Whitley was shamed out of conservative Bentley ten years ago, and while he’s finally made a life for himself as a gay man in New York, his younger brother’s disappearance soon brings him back to a place he thought he’d escaped for good.”
I wasn’t shamed out of my home town. Still, I indeed fled as soon as I was able, thanks to small-minded people who caused me to feel unsafe and unwelcome there because I happened to be different. What I found in Fram’s The Bright Lands was a form of catharsis I’ve never been able to achieve in reality, and it affected me profoundly.
The Bright Lands is a complex novel, not in terms of its plot, which races along at a thrilling pace, and indeed kept me gripped. Still, under the guise of a supernatural thriller, Fram deftly explores the workings of small-town life, and how it can keep its inhabitants in its grip. Fram’s prose is rich and imbued with meaning while remaining taut and concise enough to arouse in the reader a solid sense of propulsion. While there are supernatural elements to Fram’s novel, they’re really not at the forefront of the tale Fram is telling.
The heart of this novel, in my reading of it, at least, is Fram’s confronting a problematic past; coming to terms with relationships and responsibilities, and how growing up as a gay kid in a rural small town USA can affect a person. We could all run away to the big city and make something of ourselves, but if we don’t return and face our demons, can we ever be truly complete in ourselves? Not only does Fram deal with the sources and effects of homophobia, but drug abuse, abuse of power by local authorities, the impact of peer pressure, and the economic impact on a small town in which very few thrive - all this while keeping the reader’s eye firmly fixed on discovering the truth about the crime that brought his protagonist home to face his prior shame.
Shame is a central theme in The Bright Lands, which, at its core, is a novel about the horrors that can be produced when we suppress ourselves; it’s a rallying cry against degradation in all its forms; it’s a call to arms, that we must fight oppression in whatever form it takes—and win; it’s also just plain bloody brilliant.
The Bright Lands is one hell of a ride - it is begging to be adapted for the screen. I hope you enjoy it, and that it affects you as deeply as it did me.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5
The Bright Lands is published by Hanover Square Press on July 7. Thank you to the publisher for the advanced copy.
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