Gabriel, the titular brat, is down and out in about every way, including his relationship status, his job, and how he's perceived by his family. After the death of his father, Gabriel inhabits the family house to ready it for sale. As in many gothic tales, the place holds more secrets than answers: the home decays in parallel to the protagonist's body, which has begun to slough sheets of skin. Gabriel finds writing by his father and his mother, writing that changes every time he reads it. There is a man in a deer suit outside who either loves gardening or wants to do him harm; neither Gabriel nor readers know which. The protagonist unravels, questioning reality at every turn. What is fact and what is fiction, and maybe more importantly, what is a threat and what is simply odd? Gabriel Smith is skillful, giving readers the story of a quixotic and unsettling journey that tightens and squeals.
In all the universes possible, we were born into this one; what do we make of it? As the story examines that question, the dread permeates, the body horror ricochets, the ghosts (both perceived and real) haunt, and the laughter echoes through the pages. Heir apparent to Charles Bukowski and Charlie Kaufman in equal measure, author Gabriel Smith serves readers a matryoshka doll of storytelling with Brat, his debut novel. The main character realizes that "inside myself there were no finished stories," and what that means to him and everything he touches as the absurdity of life escalates in equally hilarious and terrible measure. --Dominic Charles Howarth, book manager, Book + Bottle