My Swordhand is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick

Review by Brad Jones

Set in the chilling forests of medieval eastern Europe, Marcus Sedgwick's My Swordhand is Singing is a thrilling gothic horror which explores the European myth of a creature which we are all very well acquainted with - the vampire (although no shimmering teenagers here - sorry folks).

When Peter and his drunkard of a father move to the isolated village of Chust in the shadow of the forest, they are clueless to the looming threat of the 'hostages': pale, bloodthirsty creatures who emerge from their graves to exact revenge on the living. However, Tomas (Peter's father) starts to act strangely when a group of gypsies come to town, and Peter begins to wonder whether his father is quite so oblivious to the strange sightings and murders happening around them.

Although the story is at first confusing and slow, you'll soon find yourself wrapped up in the inexplicable happenings of Chust, for the recently deceased should not be visiting relatives by moonlight. Sedgwick is able to utterly absorb the reader in the mystery of events by hinting at significance in things which were assumed to be a given, such as the father's drunkenness or his ability to answer Peter's questions. Is Tomas just a confused drunk? The possibility becomes less possible with each page.

Perhaps what makes the novel is how the seemingly mundane innocence of Chust and its residents is quickly turned on its head to become a living necropolis, creating a quick-paced and exhilarating dynamic. Of course, killing off dislikeable characters is also quite agreeable with most readers (like when Umbridge was dragged off by centaurs in The Order of the Phoenix).

And after all this, a precautionary tale about the most evidenced monster duplicated in cultures across the globe: who is there that believes in vampires?