A Review of Jack Mackay’s Debut Middle-Grade Horror Gloam

The Shadows Within: A Review of Jack Mackay’s Debut Middle-Grade Horror Gloam

Gloam is a standout debut. It’s unflinching in its scares but tender in its humanity, proving, as Mackay intended, that horror can be “life-affirming”. While echoes of Coraline and IT linger, the novel’s heart is wholly original. Gwen’s journey, from fractured protector to resilient survivor. Read it in daylight, and brace for the shadows.

Jack Mackay’s debut novel, Gloam, arrives like a chilling fog from its eponymous island. Marketed as middle-grade horror, this tale of grief, monsters, and resilience transcends age categories with its potent blend of psychological depth and visceral scares. Set against the bleak backdrop of a decaying island house, Gloam follows 13-year-old Gwen Clayton-Fenn as she battles literal and metaphorical demons after her mother’s death. With endorsements from Jonathan Stroud (“Thrillingly scary!”) and Lemony Snicket (“I hid under the bed—and read it again”), Mackay’s work promises—and delivers—an unsettling, emotionally resonant experience.

Mackay masterfully crafts Gloam Island as a suffocating, sentient force. Accessible only by a causeway, the island’s perpetual gloom mirrors Gwen’s internal turmoil. The family’s new home, ominously called “The House”, is littered with haunting relics: painted-eye amulets, a rotting treehouse (“The Rickety Den”), and a foreboding well (“The Well”). These elements aren’t mere set dressing; they pulse with symbolic weight. The House’s spreading rot parallels Esme Laverne’s encroaching evil, while the garden’s decay reflects the family’s fractured state after loss. Mackay’s prose evokes classic gothic horror, with shadows that move independently and nightmares bleeding into reality.

Gwen is a deeply compelling and richly flawed protagonist whose character captivates readers from the very beginning. Having taken on adult responsibilities prematurely due to her mother’s prolonged illness, Gwen carries a heavy burden that shapes much of her outlook on life. She harbors a strong resentment towards her stepfather, Henry, who, despite his genuine efforts and good intentions, often appears overwhelmed and unable to fill the void left by her mother’s absence.

Gwen’s distrust of Esme is immediate and instinctive, a reaction shaped by her protective instincts and keen awareness of subtle threats. Her younger siblings, 10-year-old Roger and the 6-year-old twins, Hazel and Hester, not only serve as crucial emotional anchors for Gwen, providing moments of tenderness and connection amidst chaos, but also act as important narrative catalysts. Their pure innocence and unguarded nature make them especially vulnerable to Esme’s manipulative tactics, which heighten the tension and stakes within the story.

Esme Laverne, however, steals the spotlight as a quintessential horror villain. Blonde, beautiful, and superficially nurturing, she weaponises societal expectations of femininity to mask her monstrous nature. Her transformation from “perfect babysitter” to a creature with “hungry eyes and sharp teeth” is gradual and terrifying. Mackay avoids cartoonish evil; Esme’s psychological torture of Gwen, gaslighting her, isolating her from family, feels as dangerous as the supernatural threats 467.

Gloam wears its influences proudly. Coraline-esque elements abound: a cryptic cat guide (though its fate is tragically different), three nightmare-fueled quests for key fragments, and a villain whose true form echoes the Beldam’s needle-limbed horror. Yet Mackay transcends homage by amplifying the stakes. Gwen confronts not just otherworldly entities but raw grief, guilt, and familial neglect. The nightmares, tailored to each child’s fears, are harrowing set pieces: Roger’s claustrophobic burial, Hazel’s drowning visions, and Gwen’s guilt-ridden specters of her mother.

Beneath the chills, Gloam is a profound exploration of loss. Gwen’s refusal to grieve, “There’s no time for feelings”, manifests as the house’s physical decay and Esme’s parasitic presence. Mackay argues that unprocessed sorrow festers into something monstrous. The solution isn’t brute force but vulnerability: Gwen must “embrace what she’s truly scared of” (her grief) to reclaim her home. This message, that bravery requires acknowledging fear, resonates powerfully for young readers navigating trauma. Familial bonds also anchor the narrative. Henry’s initial dismissal of Gwen’s warnings reflects adult failings, but the siblings’ eventual solidarity provides catharsis. As one reviewer notes, kinship, biological or forged, becomes their armour.

Style and Audience Considerations

Mackay’s prose balances lyrical dread with propulsive clarity. Short chapters and Ben Joel Price’s eerie chapter-head illustrations enhance accessibility. The detached third-person narration, likened to Lemony Snicket’s style, amplifies tension by objectively validating Gwen’s fears.

While marketed for ages 8–12. It’s darker than Goosebumps but less nihilistic than YA horror.

Gloam is a standout. It’s unflinching in its scares but tender in its humanity, proving, as Mackay intended, that horror can be “life-affirming”. While echoes of Coraline and IT linger, the novel’s heart is wholly original. Gwen’s journey, from fractured protector to resilient survivor. Read it in daylight, and brace for the shadows.

Further Reading Jack MacKay Opens the Door to His Childhood Fears

Gloam by Jack Mackay

Things look pretty bleak for thirteen-year-old Gwen and her three younger siblings. They’ve just lost their mother, they’re still adjusting to their stepfather-turned-guardian, and now they’re moving to their late grandmother’s creaky old house on the remote Gloam Island. 

To make matters worse, no one believes Gwen that their new babysitter is not as nice as she seems—and perhaps not even human. It quickly becomes clear that if Gwen wants Esme gone, she’ll have to handle it herself. She and her siblings must battle their most terrifying nightmares to protect their family, defeat their gruesome babysitter, and save their new home before it’s too late.

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