Stephen Graham Jones, known for his masterful blend of horror and historical fiction, returns with The Buffalo Hunter Hunter, a novel that grips readers with its eerie atmosphere and layered storytelling. Set in 1912, the novel weaves together a chilling confession, a massacre long buried in the snow, and the presence of a vampire lurking in the Blackfeet reservation. Told through the discovered diary of a Lutheran priest, the book plays with the weight of history and the supernatural in ways that only Jones can master.
Jones, whose previous works (The Only Good Indians, My Heart Is a Chainsaw) have redefined contemporary horror, takes a bold step into the past while retaining his signature visceral style. However, while the novel is haunting and atmospheric, it is not without its structural challenges.
Plot Overview: A Journal of Haunting Confessions
The story unfolds when a dayworker renovating an old parsonage in 2012 stumbles upon a decaying manuscript hidden within its walls. The manuscript, written in 1912 by a Lutheran pastor named Arthur Beaucarne, records his conversations with a mysterious Blackfeet man named Good Stab. This man—dressed in a long black robe, speaking in riddles—confesses his life story over a series of church visits, unraveling a tale of vengeance, survival, and something far older than man’s history.
As Beaucarne transcribes Good Stab’s confessions, the story shifts between the brutality of the American frontier and the eerie presence of something unnatural. The novel explores the massacre of 217 Blackfeet people left to freeze in the snow—a real historical event woven into the fictional framework. Good Stab’s revenge, which stretches across decades, is fueled by something beyond mortal understanding. The novel doesn’t just flirt with horror; it embeds horror within history, presenting violence that is both all too real and disturbingly supernatural.
The novel masterfully unfolds through these journal entries, each one a revelation that deepens the dread and suspense. However, this format also leads to one of the novel’s biggest structural hurdles—its reliance on a single, limited perspective.
Character Analysis: The Dead and the Undead
Arthur Beaucarne: The Reluctant Witness
Arthur Beaucarne, the Lutheran priest, is an intriguing narrator. His voice is rich with self-doubt, burdened by the weight of his own faith, and increasingly troubled by Good Stab’s confessions. Unlike the archetypal horror protagonist who actively pursues the unknown, Beaucarne is reluctant, even resistant. His faith forces him to rationalize what he hears, even as his instincts tell him otherwise.
Jones does an excellent job of portraying Beaucarne as an unreliable narrator, torn between the rational and the supernatural. Yet, at times, his sections become repetitive—his internal struggles stretched out more than necessary. Some readers may find his hesitations frustrating, but they also add to the book’s creeping sense of inevitability.
Good Stab: The Walking Ghost of History
Good Stab is the novel’s most captivating character. He is neither fully human nor fully monster, existing in a liminal space where vengeance replaces life. His presence in the church is both an act of confession and a warning, and through his words, we witness the horrors inflicted upon the Blackfeet people.
Jones builds Good Stab as a character who embodies generational trauma. He is a man who has survived where he should not have, transformed into something unnatural by forces beyond his control. His pain is deeply felt, and his vengeance is earned. Yet, there is a quiet dignity in how he tells his story—never glorifying the horrors he has seen, only recounting them.
One of the novel’s most striking themes is that Good Stab is not the monster the white settlers feared. The real monsters were the ones who left his people to die in the snow. The novel plays with this idea of horror and inversion—who is truly inhuman? Who deserves vengeance, and who is beyond redemption?
The Writing Style: A Gothic Frontier
Jones’ writing is, as always, a highlight. His prose is immersive, filled with a lyrical bleakness that fits the novel’s setting perfectly. The diary format lends the novel an old-world horror feel, reminiscent of Dracula or Frankenstein, yet it never feels derivative.
The novel’s strongest passages are those where Jones leans into sensory horror. Descriptions of bodies frozen in the snow, of blood staining the Montana earth, of shadows that seem to stretch beyond natural limits—all of these moments pull the reader deeper into the story’s horror.
However, the novel’s pacing suffers at times. The journal format, while effective in establishing a creeping dread, also leads to long stretches where not much happens. The horror builds slowly—perhaps too slowly for some readers. This is not a book of quick scares or relentless action but of unease and unraveling truths.
Themes and Symbolism: The Horror of History
1. The Weight of Genocide and Memory
At its core, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is not just a horror story but a reckoning with history. Jones does not shy away from depicting the atrocities committed against Indigenous peoples, and through Good Stab, we see how these horrors refuse to stay buried. The novel suggests that history is not something that can simply be forgotten—it haunts, it festers, it demands to be acknowledged.
2. The Blurring of Myth and Reality
Good Stab’s transformation into something more than human—something vampiric, perhaps—is never fully explained. Instead, Jones keeps things ambiguous, blurring the line between Indigenous mythology and Western supernatural horror. Is Good Stab truly a vampire, or is this just how white settlers explained his survival? This ambiguity is one of the novel’s greatest strengths, allowing the reader to decide what is real and what is metaphor.
3. Faith and Doubt in the Face of Horror
Beaucarne’s struggle with faith mirrors the novel’s larger themes of belief and truth. As he listens to Good Stab’s confessions, he is forced to question everything he knows about morality, justice, and God. This tension drives much of the novel’s suspense—what will he do when he can no longer deny the truth of Good Stab’s words?
Criticisms: Where the Novel Stumbles
Despite its strengths, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is not without its flaws.
A Slow-Burn that Occasionally Drags
- The novel’s pace is deliberate—almost too deliberate. Some sections, especially in the middle, feel padded, with repetitive introspection from Beaucarne. Readers looking for a fast-paced horror novel might struggle with this.
The Journal Format’s Limitations
- While the diary style is effective in building suspense, it also creates a sense of distance. We never get to see events outside of Beaucarne’s perspective, which can make some parts of the novel feel constrained. A more varied narrative structure might have enhanced the story’s impact.
Lack of a Climactic Resolution
- The novel builds toward a revelation, but the final act is more atmospheric than conclusive. While this fits with the novel’s themes of ambiguity and lingering horror, it may leave some readers unsatisfied.
Final Verdict: A Haunting, Imperfect Masterpiece
The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is a novel that lingers. It is not a simple horror story but a layered exploration of history, trauma, and the supernatural. Stephen Graham Jones once again proves that he is one of the most original voices in modern horror, crafting a story that is as unsettling as it is thought-provoking.
While the novel’s pacing and structure may not work for every reader, those who appreciate slow-burn horror and historical fiction will find much to admire. With its chilling atmosphere, haunting characters, and unsettling truths, The Buffalo Hunter Hunter is a book that refuses to be forgotten—just like the ghosts that haunt its pages.
- The Good: Atmospheric horror, strong writing, compelling themes
- The Not-So-Good: Slow pacing, limited perspective, ambiguous ending
For fans of: The Only Good Indians, Dracula, Blood Meridian
