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Disquiet by Julia Leigh - Edward Gorey novella style. What’s not to love? Creepy and weird, funny and sad, grotesque and loveable, this tale of Goth family dysfunction should be on everyone’s “To Read” list. Read the full review here.

I vaguely remember reading a review of Julia Leigh’s Disquiet and I stopped at the words “reads like an Edward Gorey novella”. I threw the review far away from myself and then ordered the book. I love Edward Gorey. I have a soft, squishy spot for the witty and the macabre. Walter liked playing games, but because he was missing three fingers on his right hand, the children only played “Where is Thumbkin?”

Reading a book, no matter how long, from beginning to end is a problem for me, I have two kids under four years old and a growing Hulu.com addiction (I surrender to you Alec Baldwin!). So getting back to reading “grown-up” books seemed a bit daunting. And to my surprise, Ms. Leigh tells her tale beautifully in a deft 128 pages.

The story begins with a woman, Olivia, trying to get back on to her mother’s celestial estate in France. She has a broken arm and two children in tow. “I am murdered”, she says. He arrival is quickly followed by that of her brother, Marcus and his wife, Sophie, home from the hospital after giving birth. Sophie clutches the bundle to her constantly as Marcus informs the family that the baby was stillborn. The family then falls into a familiar pattern, hauntingly teetering on utter collapse. Sophie carries the bundle with her everywhere in a wicker bassinet. Marcus lines the freezer with a pink satin dress so the baby is comfortable when it “sleeps”. It’s grotesque and utterly desperate.

Olivia and her children are coping with their flight from an abusive father. Everyone keeps the other at arms length. But the delicate pattern continues as the children visit their Grandmother one evening to say goodnight, only the find the old lady’s three room suite littered with chicken bones and cats. Olivia’s chidlren, Andy and Lucy, float through the story like small ghosts of their former selves, trying to play and be normal, but how could they when they see their freshly bruised mother sprawled drunk with her brother, or watch as their aunt feeds the dead baby soup. As they all dabble in their own extremes, it seems as though none of them know what to do next, none of them know how to help the others.

In stories like this, so bogged down with sadness, salvation always seems to come with a high price. Thankfully Olivia has enough with her to pay that bill.

Disquiet, while short and to the point, is also subtle and insightful. And while everything can be refused, there are some things that cannot be repressed. This is the type of story that gnaws away at you. It’s the scary, gory scene you slam your eyes shut for, yet the thin line of light breaks through and you can’t help but to slowly open one eye and watch in wonder and horror.