Bailey Seybolt’s debut novel “Coram House” is a mesmerizing exploration of buried secrets, institutional abuse, and the dark corners of memory, set against the stark backdrop of a Vermont winter. With atmospheric prose and a meticulously crafted mystery, Seybolt weaves together multiple timelines to unravel the disappearance of a young boy from a lakeside orphanage in 1968 and how it connects to present-day murders. The novel stands as both a compelling thriller and a poignant examination of how trauma reverberates across generations.
Plot: A Tangled Web of Mystery
True crime writer Alex Kelley arrives in Burlington, Vermont, to ghostwrite a book about Coram House, a former Catholic orphanage with a history of abuse cases that ended in a hushed settlement decades ago. The project represents a fresh start for Alex after her previous book led to the wrongful conviction of an innocent man. Her research centers on nine-year-old Tommy, who vanished from the orphanage in 1968 – either drowned by a nun while another child watched, or simply a runaway, depending on whose account you believe.
What begins as historical research quickly becomes dangerously immediate when Alex discovers the body of an elderly woman in the frozen woods. The victim turns out to be Sister Cecile (now Jeannette Leroy), the very nun implicated in Tommy’s disappearance. When Fred Rooney, another key figure from the orphanage, is found murdered shortly after, Alex becomes convinced that these deaths connect to Coram House’s dark past.
As Alex races to uncover the truth, she forms an uneasy alliance with police officer Russell Parker, who alternates between supporting her investigation and warning her away. The novel builds to a chilling climax on the frozen lake where so many secrets lie buried, revealing that the same story viewed from different angles can hide vastly different truths.
Character Depth: Compelling Portraits of Damage and Resilience
Seybolt excels at creating fully realized characters, each carrying their own weight of history. Alex Kelley stands as a complex protagonist – haunted by professional failure and personal loss, yet driven by a fierce determination to give voice to the forgotten. Her grief over her husband Adam’s death forms a silent undercurrent throughout the narrative, manifesting in her obsessive need to find justice for Tommy:
“For weeks, I’ve been looking for some proof of what happened to Tommy. But every time I think I find a way in, a window open just a crack, it slams shut.”
The supporting cast is equally nuanced. Russell Parker’s stoic exterior masks deeper motives; Fred Rooney carries the twisted legacy of a child victim turned perpetrator; Sister Cecile presents the fascinating paradox of someone both monstrous and protective; and Bill Campbell embodies the corruption of power and the lengths one will go to preserve a carefully constructed legacy.
Particularly affecting are the testimonies of the former orphanage residents, whose conflicting accounts reflect the fracturing effect of trauma on memory. The author crafts these testimonies with remarkable authenticity, capturing the range of ways people process and survive childhood abuse.
Atmosphere: The Oppressive Beauty of Winter
One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its evocative sense of place. Vermont in winter becomes almost a character itself – beautiful, treacherous, and concealing. Seybolt’s descriptions of the frozen landscape create a perfect mirror for the emotional terrain of the story:
“The fields of snow flanking the highway glow gold with sunrise, but the forested edges are still black, shadows stuck to the trees like cobwebs.”
Coram House looms as the physical embodiment of institutional evil – a grand building with high ceilings and sweeping views that nonetheless contains memories of unspeakable cruelty. The author skillfully contrasts this with the modern condo development being built on the same site, raising questions about whether such places can ever truly be cleansed of their history.
The frozen lake that features prominently throughout becomes both literal and metaphorical – a surface that appears solid but conceals dangerous depths, much like the veneer of respectability that covers the town’s darkest secrets.
Thematic Richness: Memory, Justice, and Redemption
Beyond its gripping plot, “Coram House” explores profound themes with nuance and sensitivity:
- The malleability of memory: The novel raises unsettling questions about how trauma affects recollection and what constitutes truth when accounts diverge.
- Institutional abuse and coverups: Through the settlement case and the church’s protection of abusers, Seybolt examines how power structures collude to silence victims.
- The question of justice: The book presents a complex moral landscape where conventional justice often fails, leaving survivors to find their own forms of closure.
- The lasting impact of childhood trauma: Throughout the narrative, we see how the experiences at Coram House shaped its former residents, creating ripple effects across generations.
- Grief and recovery: Alex’s journey parallels her investigation, as she navigates the aftermath of her husband’s death alongside her search for Tommy’s truth.
Structural Brilliance: Past and Present Intertwined
Seybolt demonstrates remarkable control over her narrative structure, seamlessly integrating multiple timelines and perspectives. The book alternates between Alex’s present-day investigation and transcripts from the 1980s court depositions, gradually building a mosaic of perspectives that ultimately reveals the complete picture.
The author’s background in creative writing shines through in her precise pacing – releasing information in measured doses that maintain tension while rewarding the reader’s attention. The novel’s use of these depositions as interludes creates breathing space within the propulsive main narrative while adding critical context.
Areas for Improvement: Occasional Overreaching
For all its strengths, “Coram House” occasionally strains credibility in service of its plot. Some coincidences feel a bit too convenient, particularly in how Alex repeatedly stumbles upon crucial evidence and connections. There are moments where the author’s hand feels visible in maneuvering characters into place for dramatic revelations.
Additionally, while most characterizations are nuanced, a few secondary figures lean toward archetype rather than individuality. The novel might have benefited from further developing these supporting players to match the complexity of its central cast.
The pacing in the middle section sometimes falters, with repetitive scenes of research and interviews that could have been condensed without losing essential information. However, these minor issues don’t significantly detract from the novel’s overall impact.
Prose Style: Economical Yet Evocative
Seybolt’s writing strikes an impressive balance between efficiency and lyricism. Her descriptions are vivid without becoming indulgent, and she has a particular talent for capturing sensory details that immerse the reader in the scene:
“The air is thick with growing things. The hum of insects drowns out the sounds from the beach. In here, I’m all alone.”
Dialogue rings authentic throughout, with each character maintaining a distinct voice that reflects their background and psychology. The author expertly uses silence and what remains unsaid to create tension and reveal character.
Final Verdict: A Remarkable Debut
“Coram House” announces Bailey Seybolt as a formidable new voice in literary suspense. The novel succeeds both as a page-turning mystery and as a thoughtful examination of trauma’s long shadow. Readers will find themselves invested not just in discovering who committed the murders, but in understanding the complex web of history and human damage that led to them.
For fans of Tana French’s atmospheric mysteries, Gillian Flynn’s complex female protagonists in Sharp Objects, or Jane Harper’s landscape-driven narratives, “Coram House” offers a similarly immersive experience. The novel’s exploration of institutional abuse also places it in conversation with works like “The Nickel Boys” by Colson Whitehead, though within the framework of a thriller rather than literary fiction.
With its unflinching portrayal of both human cruelty and resilience, “Coram House” lingers in the mind long after the final page. It’s a powerful reminder that the past is never truly buried – it simply waits beneath the ice for someone brave enough to break through the surface.
