Review of One Yellow Eye by Leigh Radford
From the moment I heard about One Yellow Eye, Leigh Radford’s intriguing debut novel, I felt a magnetic pull toward its peculiar premise. A reimagining of the zombie genre that trades in gore for profound emotional depth? Count me in! As a fan of horror that delves into the human psyche, I eagerly picked up the book, curious to see how Radford would navigate the complexities of love and loss in a post-apocalyptic London.
At the heart of the narrative is Dr. Kesta Shelley, a brilliant biomedical scientist grappling with the profound anguish of caring for her husband, Tim, who has succumbed to a zombie virus. Radford’s writing captures Kesta’s transformation masterfully—from a reserved scientist who "always preferred the company of microbes" to a woman grasping for sanity as her obsessive attempts to keep Tim alive spiral into moral ambiguity. The story compels us to question: What lengths would we go to for love?
Radford’s background in broadcast journalism shines through in her meticulous attention to scientific detail. The concept that the zombie virus may share links with a real condition, Inclusion Body Disease, adds a layer of authenticity that grounds the story in something terrifyingly plausible. Her prose, a beautiful blend of lyrical descriptions and clinical precision, makes Kesta’s internal struggles palpable. I found myself particularly moved by passages like, “The little purple jellybeans. An image of a cream-colored snake tied into an impossible knot,” which speaks to the duality of life and death lurking within the narrative.
The supporting cast, akin to beacons in Kesta’s tumultuous journey, enrich the story even further. Dr. Dudley Caring brings a sympathetic grounding to Kesta’s increasingly erratic decisions, while the sharp-tongued lab technician June Cooke provides wit and a sense of realism. Even Tim, though largely catatonic, remains a haunting presence, embodying the tragedy of the human condition throughout.
Radford not only weaves a tale of zombies but also creates a meditative space to explore grief and the medical-industrial complex. The secretive Project Dawn—where Kesta’s dangerous experiments unfold—raises pivotal questions about the ethics of scientific progress in times of desperation. It’s a cautionary exploration that resonates deeply, especially in our current socio-political climate.
However, the novel’s deliberate pacing does demand patience. Some transitions felt protracted, especially within the Project Dawn sequences, and a few scientific details veered into exposition-heavy territory. I found myself yearning for a bit more character development in secondary figures like Tim’s friend Jess, whose occasional presence felt underutilized against the weight of Kesta’s narrative.
Ultimately, One Yellow Eye is more than a horror story; it’s an exploration of human resilience and the unbearable weight of grief. Radford’s remarkable debut transcends genre boundaries, challenging readers to reflect on the true cost of hope. For those of you who appreciate horror that requires emotional investment and thoughtful engagement, this book will linger long after the last page is turned.
In conclusion, if you’re ready to step into a world where the undead become a poignant lens for examining our deepest fears and desires, Leigh Radford’s One Yellow Eye awaits you. This is a book that invites us to grapple with the complexities of love, loss, and the ethics of science, making it a standout read that may just redefine how we experience the horror genre.