This is a tale of terror—multiple, monstrous terrors. It's no surprise to learn that from Dan Chaon, author of the afterword of this NYRB reissue, that this book enjoyed best-selling sales when first published in 1971. It was also adapted into a less successful movie during that era. I am happy never to have seen the movie, because this is the kind of story that works far more effectively in the mind, without cinema's naturalism (or, in this case, unnaturalism). Tyron pulls off a stunning feat: he grips you from the first page while at the same time signaling that your footing is insecure. You may think you know where you are but, like the novel's characters, you are virtually clueless until the very end. Even when all is revealed, the deepest mysteries remain—not because, as a reader, you've been cheated, but because true mystery is impossible to resolve.Although it captures an era decades before I was born, a big reason why this novel sucked me in is its care with everyday details: a world of crystal radio sets, trollies, kewpie dolls, and neighborhood fishmongers. The notorious news of the day was the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby, The geography is the New England mapped by Stephen King; the mood, steeped in childhood nostalgia, is Ray Bradbury's. The difference is that Tryon, though far less prolific than those giants in the field, is a better writer than either. His prose is poetic in its diction, range of colors, and metaphors, but it's never pretentious. The atmosphere unsettles from the start and grows more frightening. The most chilling events are described with restraint. This is one of the best-written thrillers I have ever read. It's also one of the best-written books of any kind I have read in a long time.Chaon stresses "legerdemain" as the secret to Tryon's triumph in "The Other." I could not agree more. Now that I know the plot, I intend to reread the book to enjoy its construction, its skillful misdirection, its lightness of touch, its — legerdemain.