The movie takes place in an alternate reality in which no one has ever lied and where people bluntly say whatever is on their mind. While reading Horns, I was reminded of the recent (and much underappreciated) Ricky Gervais film, The Invention of Lying. In addition, Hill’s tough-and-tender prose is perfectly suited to a novel which combines satanic horror with a sweet love story. However, hi portrayal of the post-transformation Ig – possessed of the devil’s powers, but retaining his essential human decency – is one of the more original creations in recent fiction.
To Hill’s credit, Horns is not a “message” novel and offers no pat answers to these unanswerable questions. Foremost among these is the fundamental question of moral theology: If God is all-powerful, why does He allow terrible things to happen to good people? In other words, why does evil exist?
Beneath the basic plot line, however, Hill wrestles with a number of intriguing philosophical and theological issues.
On one level, Horns is a fairly simple revenge story. This ability ultimately leads to the discovery of Merrin’s true killer. Ig’s life has been shattered by the rape and murder of his girlfriend/soul mate, Merrin, a year earlier – a crime which most members of his hometown believe Ig is guilty of committing.Īlong with the horns come new satanic powers, including access to people’s darkest impulses and desires. Horns is the story of Ig Perrish, who wakes up one morning after a night of debauchery to find devil’s horns sprouting from his head. Well, maybe that Stephen King connection can’t be so easily dismissed. It will probably be made into an inferior film. Now we can discuss Horns, which is a horror novel set in New England that features readable, everymanish prose and numerous pop culture references. Let’s get some housekeeping out of the way right up front: Joe Hill is the son of Stephen King, the “master of horror” and one of the best-selling novelists of all time. He woke the next morning with a headache, put his hands to his temples, and felt something unfamiliar, a pair of knobby pointed protuberances.”
“Ignatius Martin Perrish spent the night drunk and doing terrible things.
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