The Ruins

by Scott Smith

(New York: Vintage Books, 2007)

Paperback, 509 Pages, Fiction

ISBN: 9780785123118, US$7.99

“The most disturbing novel of the year” —TIME

From the Cover: Trapped in the Mexican jungle, a group of friends stumble upon a creeping horror unlike anything they could ever imagine. Two young couples are on a lazy Mexican vacation – sun-drenched days, wild nights, making friends with fellow tourists. When the brother of one of those friends disappears, they decide to venture into the jungle to look for him. What started out as a fun day trip slowly spirals into a nightmare when they find an ancient ruins site … and the terrifying presence that lurks there.

My Review: I’ve had this book in my library for about a year now and have been meaning to get around to reading it for even longer than that. I first read about it in Entertainment Weekly (I think) when it was first released and I was intrigued by the descriptions that I was reading not just in the magazine, but also in the papers and online. It was something that sounded absolutely fascinating. With such statements as “The best American horror novel since Stephen King’s The Shining” (The Philadelphia Inquirer), “a novel that seduces, shocks and dares you to keep reading” (The Washington Post Book World), “This story is a holiday in hell” (San Francisco Chronicle), etc. etc., etc. Finally, now that I have some time since I’m out of school until August, I have picked up the book and started reading.

Honestly, I plowed right through this book. Each page, each plot point pulled me further and further into the book until I reached the very end. From what I understand, this sort of suspense is something that Scott Smith is known for and now, after reading The Ruins, I want to go out and find myself a copy of A Simple Plan.

There are a couple of things about The Ruins that absolutely intrigued me, as a Reader, a Writer, and as a Critic. First and foremost is the plot. Smith’s story is a train wreck of a tale; you know from the moment that the plot starts to flesh itself out (about 15 or 20 pages in) that nothing good is going to happen here, it’s just a matter of what and when and to whom. There are all sorts of omens and signs that the characters are just getting themselves into deeper and deeper water, but the true horror comes from the Reader asking themselves “would I have done anything different” at any number of points along the way to the last page. This is a veritable treasure trove of “if only” scenarios, each more chilling than the last.

Secondly, the sheer imagination of the plot is something that is unbelievable. When the “villain” of the novel is finally fully understood, I just sat back and said “no way … there is no way that this is what Smith has done … I absolutely hate him for creating this universe … I wish I had had this idea …” I feel a need here to say that this is not a Michael Crichton-esque novel where everything is neatly packaged in a scientific veneer, there is no science here, no expansive explanations that you need a PhD to decipher, instead Smith has given the Reader just as much information as his characters have, and that makes the story all the more thrilling and scary.

Next, I was struck by Smith’s characters. They are not exactly well-developed (especially the female characters—Smith seems to suffer from the same ability deficit that Stephen King has when it comes to writing women) but well-developed characters is not necessarily what they are there for. Sure, we need to care about them in order care about what is happening to them, and Smith manages this to a certain extent, but what is even more fascinating with Jeff and Amy and Stacy and Eric and Mathias and Pablo is the group dynamic that begins to emerge and the psychological thriller that evolves as the groups’ situation becomes more and more dangerous … and deadly. These five soon become more than trapped vacationers on a cursed hilltop … they become mentally trapped in the roles they’ve been playing all their lives. There is even an ironically funny discussion between Eric, Amy and Stacy about if there was to be a movie about their ordeal who would play them, and Eric says it doesn’t matter who plays them but rather what type they are, i.e. which one is the Funny One, which one is the Boy Scout, which one is the Villain, which one is the Prissy One, which one the Slut, etc. These are the roles that these people have been playing out all their lives and they have become intensified in the microcosm that their world has become on the top of this hill in the middle of the Yucatan Peninsula. This makes Amy and Eric and Stacy and Jeff and Mathias and Pablo just as dangerous as the man-eating entity that has them trapped on the top of the hill.

However, all of this doesn’t change the fact that The Ruins is an old-fashioned horror novel at its heart and Scott Smith has created—in my opinion—one of the best villains in a horror novel since the omnipresent and malevolent hotel in Stephen King’s The Shining. With every turn of the page, the creeping horror keeps getting ratcheted up notch after notch until some of the most terrifying scenes in the novel are unleashed (in particular the occurrence with the sleeping bag and what one character does with a knife) … they are scenes of utter terror that are on a par with the scariest scenes in Stephen King’s repertoire (both from ‘Salem’s Lot: Matt Burke’s confrontation with the Thing-That-Was-Mike-Ryerson in his upstairs bedroom, and Ben Mears and Jim Cody’s twilight vigil with Mrs. Glick’s corpse at the Funeral Home).

The Ruins is the best modern horror novel that I have read in a long time and one that has made me think twice about taking a “live and let live” approach to the weeds in the backyard and garden. I’m of a mind that a more aggressive approach to those tenacious b@$#@%*s is needed, or in the words of Dr. Julius Hibbard as to what he prescribes: “Fire, and lots of it.”

For another take on The Ruins, check out Reading by Pub Light’s review.