Review: The Dark In-Between by Elizabeth Hrib
There’s something undeniably captivating about stories that explore grief and the supernatural, and The Dark In-Between by debut author Elizabeth Hrib caught my eye with its promise of both. As I delved into the life of sixteen-year-old Casey Everett, I found myself grappling with her heart-wrenching loss and the intriguing, shadowy world of Limbo. This journey of survival and companionship, punctuated by the presence of a fallen angel named Red, was an emotional rollercoaster that I couldn’t resist.
At its core, The Dark In-Between is about navigating the tumultuous waters of grief and the complexities of human connection—how loss can isolate us while also drawing unexpected friendships closer. Casey, grieving the death of her best friend Liddy in a tragic accident, embodies this struggle. With well-intentioned yet awkward support from her surviving best friend Evan and her caring aunt, Casey’s battle to adapt is palpable. Hrib paints a vivid picture of societal perceptions surrounding survivors—how they are often viewed through a lens of pity, which adds depth to Casey’s character.
What really struck me were the moments where the narrative dips into the surreal. Casey’s experiences in Limbo, marked by dark, whispering shadows and visions of Liddy, prompt readers to ponder how grief can warp our sense of reality. Then, the unthinkable happens—she meets Red, a fallen angel sent to help guide her through this liminal space. Hrib’s take on the classic fallen angel trope felt refreshing, intertwining humor and emotion. I must admit, I’m a sucker for a good fallen angel story, so my expectations were high, but Hrib delivered a unique spin that kept me engaged.
In terms of writing style, Hrib’s prose flows seamlessly, making the journey through Casey’s grief and Limbo compelling. The pacing holds just the right tension; however, I did find some of the Limbo sequences resembling a tour guide’s checklist rather than an organic unfolding of a story. Nonetheless, the visual imagery was striking and often moving. As I read, I could visualize the liminal landscape, a testament to Hrib’s vivid imagination.
A couple of standout quotes resonated with me, such as, "How could he know what the darkest parts of her grief looked and sounded like?" This line embodied the essential emotional core of the story—the unbridgeable gap between experiencing trauma and understanding it. It’s a reminder of our inherent isolation in sorrow.
Overall, I walked away from The Dark In-Between with a sense of satisfaction, though I did feel that Casey could have developed further. Still, Evan’s sarcastic wit and Red’s emotional depth made up for this, pulling me through as I awaited their fates. This debut novel feels like a solid foundation upon which Elizabeth Hrib can build even richer stories in the future.
I’d recommend The Dark In-Between to readers who appreciate an emotional journey laced with supernatural elements, particularly those who enjoy exploring life, death, and everything in-between. For anyone navigating their own struggles with loss, this book may serve as a profound companion. Hrib has created a world with room for growth, and I look forward to seeing where her stories take us next. Happy reading!