The Caretaker (by Marcus Kliewer)
I thoroughly enjoyed Marcus Kliewer’s debut, We Used to Live Here, so I went into The Caretaker with high expectations.
Macy Mullins is a young woman drowning in job rejections, overdue rent, and empty cupboards while trying to provide for her younger sister. A strange Craigslist ad for a three-day caretaking job at an isolated house on the rugged Oregon Coast pulls her in even though her instincts tell her to be cautious. What starts as an odd but simple gig quickly becomes a nightmare: an ancient, incomprehensible evil inhabits the property, and Macy may be the only thing standing between its release and the rest of humanity.
The opening chapter is creepy, confusing, and immediately intriguing. Meeting Mrs. Carnswel is both a treat and a puzzle, and I genuinely enjoyed the tour of her mysterious house. I pictured a glorious old craftsman sitting alone in the wilderness. Part of me wanted to take Macy’s place as caretaker—I am fairly sure I would have done a better job following the Rites.
Kliewer’s prose is strong. He chooses the right details for horror and knows how to make a house feel wrong. I borrowed the audiobook on Libby. Narrators Jeremy Carlisle Parker and Corey Brill do an excellent job of delivering the spooky atmosphere.
That said, it is also a little lame—intentionally or not—that Macy cannot complete even the simplest caretaker tasks. Each failure brings more instructions and worse consequences. I can understand her trouble with the rabbits. Not turning off the lights? That one seemed pretty straightforward.
My attention wandered often. I was least interested in the parts that make this a horror novel and most engaged when Kliewer leaned into the characters’ mental-health struggles. I felt for Macy as she tried to process her father’s death, carry responsibility for her sister, and stay employed. I related to the positive self-talk, especially her father’s line that “thoughts are just noise.” The book talks about suicide, anxiety, and grief, but that material stays convoluted and foggy. The opening disclaimer stresses the importance of discussing suicide and depression, but the novel never follows through. He puts everything on the table and then walks away. I wanted some kind of closure on that thread and never got it.
The ending is completely unsatisfactory and, quite frankly, annoyed the hell out of me. It isn’t an ending. The book just stops. No closure, no explanation, no sense of what actually happened. It made me question why I had spent the time if the story wasn’t going to give anything back.
My disappointment leaves me cautious about picking up another Kliewer novel. Sometimes a book is only okay, but a strong ending still saves it. That did not happen here. The ending is a serious letdown.
My review of Kliewer’s debut is here.
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