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The Ruins

by Scott Smith
The Ruins by Scott Smith
★ 7.76 / 4
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While partying on holiday in Cancun two young American couples befriend a German tourist named Mathias, and three friendly Greeks. Mathias had been travelling with his brother, Heinrich, who's disappeared off to the Mayan ruins with a woman working on an archaeological dig. Mathias is worried for his brother and, using a hand-drawn map Heinrich had left behind, sets off in pursuit. The Americans and one of the Greeks join him in his adventure to the interior.

After an exhausting journey, the six reach a Mayan village. But there they receive a frightening reception and turn around, despairing of ever finding Henrich and the ruins.

Following a camouflaged trail out of the village, the group come to a hillside covered in bright red flowers. As they pause at the base of this hill, transfixed by the beauty of the vision, a horseman approaches behind them. It's one of the Mayans; he's got a gun and, in his own language, orders them away from the hill. In the midst of the confrontation, one of the group steps backward, into the flowering vine. The Mayan falls silent then orders all six up the hill.

As they follow the trail across the hilltop and down the slope they see yet another group of Mayans waiting for them, weapons out-and a mound, covered with the flowering vine. They examine it and find Henrich's corpse, shot full of arrows. They are mystified.

And the Mayans won't let them leave.

Trapped, the group try to figure out a way to survive until someone comes to find them, imagining they've been made irrational by thirst and hunger. But as they move through their first twenty-four hours, another, far more terrifying foe reveals itself... Eerie, terrifying, unputdownable The Ruins is suspense storytelling at its best.

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Horror
Release date: 2006
Reviews and Comments (1)

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Scott Smith

Scott Bechtel Smith (born 1965) is an American author and screenwriter, who has published two novels, A Simple Plan and The Ruins. His screen adaptation of A Simple Plan earned him an Academy Award nomination. The screenplay won a Broadcast Film Critics Association Award and a National Board of Review Award.

Smith was born in Summit, New Jersey in 1965 and moved to Toledo, Ohio as a child. After studying at Dartmouth College and graduating from Columbia University, he took up writing full time.

His second novel, The Ruins, was also adapted into a film, released on April 4, 2008. Stephen King called it "[t]he best horror novel of the new century." King had also called A Simple Plan "simply the best suspense novel of the year."

Reviews and Comments

09/27/2014
larry crawford avatar
larry crawford
10 books, 10 reviews
★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ 6 / 10
SPOILERS - click to open
Read more ...

Plotwise, it's like every haunted house story and its variants you ever read or viewed, from Cabin in the Woods to Haunting of Hill House, this one just happens outside, on a hill in the Yucatan jungle, next to an abandoned mine shaft, vines dense around the hill like Friar Tuck's hairstyle, and custodial Mayans chasing tourists away or, if the thrillseekers make it past them, they get an arrow in the throat for trying to leave. Because, believe me, if you're jailed on that pile of death with the mounds of bones peeping out of vine bunches all around you, a cell phone which isn't really a cell phone calling you to the bottom of a darkened shaft so you break your back in the fall trying to find it, yeah, you and your buddies with no food or water to speak of, the couple of girls are no help, and the Greek doesn't speak the language and the German is reticent, stoic; boy, it gets even tougher when your bud thinks the vines have penetrated his skin and he's cuttin' himself, bleeding out all over, everyone getting hysterical, hungry, terrorized, even drunk ‘cause you brought tequila instead of water. Next morning, the Greek with the broken back is still alive, still screaming outside the tent in the mud while the vines strip his legs of flesh. Inside the tent, you hear your own voice mimicked from the jungle, you know the vines are laughing at you, waiting, savoring, enjoying each ghastly encounter, slurping your vomit, drinking all the spilled blood, chewing the dying flesh of your body while you slept. Beyond hope, you know it's not gonna end real well. Even when you try most of the Boy Scout tricks of survival like rain water retention, fire building, rationing the brought twinkies since there's nothing on the hill except those fuckin' vines which are getting bolder, moving in defiance of everything rational, goading you with creepy notions as if they were sentient and doing all this for no other reason than pure, unsullied evil. Will your brain explode from fear, or, will you drift off, mumbling incoherencies like one of the girls does? You didn't think you could hold on through the fear, the horror, the certain death approaching while absorbing more pain, more mental anguish, more grief seeing your friends fall screaming and crying covered in flesh-eating vines. The Ruins is a full-bore rocket-ride of visceral horror. At 319 pages, it's a little verbose as superfluous details and pieces of backstory fill in between the chewfests and frenzied reactions. For those seeking logic and rules in the world, turn to the Eagle Scout as he organizes the group with survival chores, even going as far as suggesting they eat one of their dead. They are all slipping into a fog of insanity from these dire, impossible circumstances, the promises of being rescued become dimmer with each, black-as-tar nightfall. There is no reasonable explanation given for the animated, killing vines(1). With no apparent subtext to muck up the horror, this is that ticking clock rundown to unavoidable death—you know, pretty much what you're denying about your own life path—just compressed with unpredictable circumstances and lots and lots of fear and pain. But that's why you read this kind of fiction, right? As if experiencing it vicariously will somehow ward off experiencing it for real, eh? Well, good luck with that. 1) The closest it gets is one character speculating that whatever the vines are, they came out of the viscera of the earth via the mine shaft, apparently seeking not photosynthesis but something more alive and squirmy.

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