The Burn Line by: Jonathan Sims

 

The Burn Line is the third novel from Jonathan Sims.  Sims is a writer whose most well-known work is The Magnus Archives, a horror podcast that ran from 2016 to 2021, gaining a not insignificant online fandom.  It was a podcast that I discovered at the right time in my life for the horror to resonate quite well.  This is my first exposure to Sims’ prose work but the similarities in style cannot be denied.  While The Burn Line is a novel primarily in the third person there is a creeping dread, playing on the fear of the unknown.  Five strangers encounter each other on a subway line while the city of London is under a heatwave.  Something terrifying happens, however, none of them are able to recall exactly what they encountered, the gaps in their memories.  It is only when one of them suffers a loss of a friend that the group begins to be brought together and memory begins to trickle events back into place.  The first part of the novel, taking up approximately 80 pages is that initial event told from the perspective of our five characters.  Sims’ work in short fiction and podcasting is excellent at making each narrative voice distinct with particular emphasis on their background.  There is a sense of wrongness when each character steps into the train carriage, entering a world that none of them are meant to see and on the surface far more complex than what their everyday life would allow.

 

The burnout of the working class is central to The Burn Line.  Each of our protagonists are at some stage of burnout with different intensity and from a different source.  Each is attempting to cope with it somehow from Elise getting a new job, to Senyo taking the few moments to appreciate his wife.  It’s the drudgery of day-to-day life, exacerbated by living in a post-COVID lockdown world.  Sims noting Elise wearing a mask keeps the pandemic in the forefront of the reader, existing in a changed world where young adults have lived through once in a lifetime historical event after once in a lifetime historical event.  Four of the five are holding onto their lives in a way the typical reader will understand, living life day to day with some semblance of security.  Aaron, the most compelling of the protagonists and the first to realize that there is something supernatural preying on people, is where most readers would recognize rock bottom.  He is homeless; however, Sims recognizes that homeless people are people, treating his narrative as human as the others.  He does not perceive himself as being at rock bottom, there is an awareness in the narrative of how easy it is for someone to lose their home.  Each of the other protagonists are equally far away from becoming homeless, working paycheck to paycheck.  It is their class solidarity that makes them aware of the evil lurking under the streets of London, and the narrative is one that punishes those who break that solidarity.  Aaron’s treatment by the narrative is quite kind, he is not singled out for prejudice.  Each protagonist has some aspect of themselves that the others have underlying biases.

 

The structure of the characters do match quite easily into classic fantasy tropes of the five man band.  Aaron representing the heart, Elise and Tash the brains and the brawn, Will the lancer, and Senyo the leader, though with the way that Sims plots The Burn Line in line with mid-century science fiction and horror this may be accidental and a simple nature of tropes becoming universal.  It is a structure that does work quite well for The Burn Line even if an understanding of the trope can give you for where the plot is going.  Structurally, the novel is also split into five parts and the twist at the midpoint is predictable.  The type of horror that Sims is working with shifts from a cosmic horror to all too real horrors of monsters, those monsters representing the upper class quite obviously.  Sims is not a writer who works in subtlety when it comes to the major themes and motifs of his work, and that does act as a double-edged sword.  It is the characters where the subtleties lie and where readers will find their most enjoyment.  Sims’ prose is also clearly meant to be read aloud instead of in a book, again a holdover from his experience as the writer of The Magnus Archives.  This is particularly great for maintaining the atmosphere when the switch in approach occurs.

 

Overall, The Burn Line is a quite good little horror novel.  Thematically it is covering material that stretches to the beginnings of the genre but only in a way that works through a post-COVID lens.  Jonathan Sims centers human kindness as what is going to be responsible for saving us all and while that is a little cheesy in places it does help sustain and draw the horror.  7/10.