Review by Frank Plowright
Daphne Byrne is a teenager long before times when her age would be referred to as such, living with her widowed mother in late 19th century New York. Her father died in disreputable circumstances, causing her to be scorned and ridiculed at school, while Mrs Byrne desperately attempts to rectify her loss by consulting a charlatan claiming to connect with the dead. Laura Marks shows how she’s being manipulated, yet also how even proof won’t dissuade the desperate. Daphne, meanwhile, is being accompanied by something claiming to be of this world, yet seemingly also representing something malevolent from beyond.
With gothic horror specialist Kelley Jones weaving his visual magic, Daphne is shown to be at the centre of a toxic supernatural stew, not fully understanding what’s happening, yet willing to go along with it as a way of improving her situation. The clever aspect of her story is the uncertainty of whether she’s experiencing mental problems or whether there has been a supernatural intrusion.
Jones is on fine form, sweeping in the shadows and given enough leeway enabling him to indulge in presenting a succession of horrors from beyond. Marks may be toying with allegory regarding puberty, but whether they’re ‘real’ or otherwise is irrelevant as they’re what Daphne experiences. By the time an answer is revealed, Daphne seems set on an irrevocable path.
In the notes after the story Joe Hill likens Daphne Byrne to The Omen, but he’s being polite in avoiding the more obvious comparison to Carrie, written by his father. Almost a century separates the two troubled and bullied young women, but a completely different set of circumstances prompt the final horror. Unfortunately, having set the mood so well, that’s rather a fluffed opportunity, being predictable, as is the final scene, which takes the most obvious route. Enjoy the meal, but don’t bother with the dessert.
