Haunted
by Chuck Palahniuk
Doubleday

Chuck Palahniuk, author of the now-legendary book "Fight Club," which spawned the even-more-legendary film, once again unleashes his distinctively rabid style of storytelling in his seventh novel, "Haunted."

Over his career, Palahniuk has developed a cultlike following of readers hooked on his grotesque anti-establishment fables, and with each new book the publishing hype machine gets cranked up another notch or two. Palahniuk made some PR waves in the past year when, in reading of the sections of "Haunted" during public appearances, people became sick. Hype-Meter to Level 7. He's made more waves with "Haunted" having been compared to classics like "The Canterbury Tales," "The Decameron" and "Frankenstein." Hype-Meter to Level 9.

"Haunted" is a story cycle, built around the frame of a writer's retreat in which the participants have been promised a chance to "leave everything behind that keeps you from creating your masterpiece." Under the watchful eye of the wizened wheelchaired workshop leader Mr. Whittier, the motley crew of writers-in-training are, for three months, locked in a tacky old hotel with all the frozen meals they can eat. The story of their captivity, Mr. Whittier promises, will become the blockbuster tale that makes them all rich and famous. Aside from that, all he asks is that they get up in front of the group and tell a tale from time to time.

The book unfolds in a regular design, with a chapter of the "hotel" narrative followed by a rather pedestrian free-verse poem introducing the teller of the next tale, followed by whatever blood-curdling experience that character has in his or her past. The hotel narrative becomes increasingly chilling as the story cycle progresses, as if the deranged memories and imaginings of the participants start leaking into the real world. Before you know it, members of the hotel party are turning up dead, while the food and plumbing and heat have been mysteriously sabotaged, all in the name of heightening the dramatic tension. Bellies are exploded. Cats are eaten. Penises are severed. Now that's good plotting!

All the gory and horrific details reinforce the several allusions "Haunted" makes to the legendary Swiss locale Villa Diodati, where, almost two centuries ago, Byron and Shelly, Mary Shelly and Dr. John Polidori told ghost stories in an attempt to entertain each other. From that gathering was born not just the Frankenstein story, but the Dracula story as well. Despite drawing on this literary-historical oddity, nothing particularly innovative comes out of "Haunted." It's Chuck Palahniuk at work, only he's Chuckier this time around. Upchuckier, even.

"Haunted" is flawed in that it rarely gets beyond its own violence and the rather obvious obsessions its characters have with their own suffering and their desire for fame. It could be suggested that this novel is a gruesome satire of reality-shows like "Survivor" or "Big Brother," but "Haunted" comes off like a serial killer's version of A Chorus Line: gobs of razzamatazz but little humanity.

As entertaining as it may be, Palahniuk's new novel lacks the coherent development and moments of satiric insight of "Fight Club" or "Survivor," or even the more recent "Lullaby." And while writers certainly deserve the chance to grow and take chances, in "Haunted," Palahniuk seems to be taking it easy or taking things a little too coolly. The book is a Frankenstein monster of sorts, stitched together from what looks like bits and pieces of writing the author couldn't use elsewhere. While there are many passages in the novel that offer readers the gratifying shock of insight — or just plain shock — as only Palahniuk can give, in the end, "Haunted" does little to provoke any response deeper than the visceral.

— Mark Hayes (mark.e.hayes at gmail dot com)