A Light Most Hateful manages to be simultaneously hard-hitting and uplifting. With a cast of LGBTQ+ characters, well the L and Q at least, it expertly challenges assumptions about identity from the first chapter. Olivia is a runaway, stuck in a small town that doesn’t accept her. Her only consolation is her friendship with—and unrequited love for—Sunflower, who is described through Olivia’s eyes as “Perfect, beautiful”.
Olivia barely remembers her past, while Sunflower clings too tightly to hers, unable to accept that her big sister (like her father) left her behind. The friendship is a central part of the story, and I frequently felt that Sunflower did not deserve Olivia’s worship, and that the latter would be much happier with a friend like the enigmatic, genderqueer Christmas.
There are monsters galore, from the mindless, shuffling, hate-filled locals, to the nightmarish Lizzie with her cavernous head-eating mouth. The story unravels slowly, via plenty of twists and turns, until it is hard to grasp what is real and what is other…
I refuse to spoil this book for you by detailing the truth before you have earned it, but if you enjoy poetic, detailed descriptions mixed with brooding atmosphere and sudden jump scares, you would do well to give this one a chance.