How can a story, among the simplest of its kind, find its way so deep into our subconscious? To do so, a narrative must be intimately familiar with the mind’s internal architecture—its nooks, corners, hidden pathways, and narrow alleyways. The only tale capable of such a feat is one entangled with personal memory, a key that unlocks the door to profound nostalgia. Craig Davidson’s The Saturday Night Ghost Club is precisely such a work, achieving this resonance with remarkable elegance.
Set in 1980s Niagara Falls, the book features a modest cast: twelve-year-old Jake, his uncle—the eccentric owner of an occult shop called the Occultarium—and a pair of siblings new to town whom Jake has befriended. The backdrop evokes an era glowing with the allure of mystery and the unknown, centered on psychic phenomena and paranormal activities. This atmosphere is fueled by a town steeped in local ghost stories and haunting urban legends.
Davidson explores the "footprint phenomenon," illustrating how the past leaves invisible marks to find its way back to the surface.
One summer in the '80s
The story finds its pulse in universally relatable themes, even when placed in extraordinary settings. It captures the tentative process of befriending a stranger, portraying internal struggles and hesitations with a gentle hand—where a mere acknowledgment of these feelings is often all that is required. One specific passage transports the reader back to those fleeting moments when you realize that someone you have just grown to know may, quite suddenly, be seen for the last time. The only literary parallel that carries a similar emotional weight is the poignant moment in Calvin and Hobbes when Calvin believes he has lost his companion.
Wrapped around this emotional core is the abstraction of memory—its inherent frailty and malleability. Davidson explores the "footprint phenomenon," illustrating how the past leaves invisible marks to find its way back to the surface. Having researched the subject through works like Another Day in the Frontal Lobe and Searching for Memory, the author treats memory as a conscious entity—a character in its own right. These thematic threads lead the characters down paths where the "Ghost Club" uncovers mysteries darker than their own imaginations.
There are moments and passages in the book where the prose feels exceptionally raw; the monologues flow smoothly, stripped of the usual writerly veil. The plot, setting, and characters feel like an extension of Davidson's own history, as if the author is masquerading as a protagonist just to voice something he has long held close to his chest.
Emily Dickinson, c. 1862
Having researched the subject through works like "Another Day in the Frontal Lobe" & "Searching for Memory," the author treats memory as a conscious entity—a character in its own right.
To put it plainly, Craig has masterfully and sincerely woven together words that entangle memories, resonating deeply with both himself and his audience. It invites you on a brief, nostalgic journey spanning a single summer to cast a soulful spell.
A Bildungsroman—a coming-of-age tale—possessing a heart that is at times forgetful, delusional, or confused, but above all, honest.
