Siti Muinah
In her haunting debut novel, Decomposition Book, author Sara Van Os invites readers into a fractured world where the boundary between life and death—and the boundary between the self and the other—is perilously thin. Set against the desolate, frozen landscape of upstate New York, the novel follows Savannah, a young woman struggling to recover from a psychological breakdown during her final year of university. Isolated at her parents’ secluded lake house, Savannah is forced to confront the wreckage of her own mind while grappling with unmedicated Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD), a coping mechanism defined by a volatile mixture of isolation, excessive alcohol consumption, and nightly sedatives.
The narrative architecture of Decomposition Book is built upon a dual-track structure: Savannah’s present-day struggle in the Adirondack wilderness and the posthumous testimony of Ava, a woman whose life ended in the same unforgiving terrain months earlier. As Savannah finds herself inexplicably drawn to a corpse she discovers in the woods behind her home, she begins an unlikely, macabre, and deeply intimate journey of self-discovery through the pages of a journal found within the deceased’s belongings.
A Chronology of Descent
The tragedy that underpins the novel finds its roots in a fateful camping trip taken several months prior. Ava, alongside her colleagues Megan and Chad, ventured into the Adirondacks seeking adventure. The excursion, however, was quickly derailed by what the narrative characterizes as "competitive masculinity"—Chad’s insistence on deviating from marked trails, a decision that proved fatal. By the time the harsh January winter set in, Ava was the sole survivor, lost, disoriented, and ultimately doomed.
The novel establishes the reality of Ava’s death in its opening pages, yet this does not strip the narrative of its weight. Instead, it imbues Ava’s journal entries with an inevitable, crushing pathos. We witness the slow erosion of a life as Ava documents her final days, a stark contrast to the slow, agonizing unravelling of Savannah’s psyche.
The pivotal moment in the present-day narrative occurs when a sleepwalking, disoriented Savannah discovers the body of a woman propped against a tree in the woods. Rather than alerting the authorities, Savannah, guided by the intrusive, mocking internal voice of her former best friend, Michelle, chooses a darker path. She recovers the woman’s journal, and in the silence of her isolation, she begins to read. This singular act of transgression serves as the catalyst for the novel’s central thematic exploration: the search for human connection in the face of absolute despair.
The Anatomy of Obsession and Identity
The "Decomposition Book"—the journal itself—serves as the primary vehicle through which Savannah constructs a reality that protects her from the crushing weight of her own existence. Through a combination of the journal’s prose and digital investigation, Savannah begins to "flesh out" the identity of the woman she calls Ava. She discovers that Ava was an opera singer, a woman with a history, a personality, and a life that existed entirely independent of her current state of decay.
For a reader, this process could easily veer into the voyeuristic or the grotesque. However, Van Os navigates this terrain with profound empathy. She illustrates that Savannah’s behavior is not born of a depraved curiosity, but of an overwhelming, existential loneliness. Savannah is a woman who feels she is "always spilling out over her own edges," a victim of her own intrusive thoughts that manifest as the cruel, internalized voice of her former best friend. In the silent, decomposing body of a stranger, Savannah finds a perverse sort of sanctuary—a presence that does not judge, does not demand, and does not require the performative maintenance of the living.
The Neurobiology of the Self
Van Os provides a visceral, unfiltered look at the reality of living with unmedicated OCD. The novel challenges the popular, sanitized understanding of the disorder as a mere penchant for cleanliness. Instead, it portrays the exhausting, relentless cycle of intrusive thoughts, the self-flagellation, and the desperate, often futile, search for certainty.
Savannah’s narrative voice is a searing indictment of the modern condition. She muses on the "generational problem" of trauma—a world where individuals are desensitized by a constant, digital stream of global suffering: 9/11, cartel violence, school shootings, and live-streamed wars. She notes that she had become so accustomed to the sight of death and tragedy that she could witness real-world horror and return to her daily routine with unsettling ease. Yet, the physical presence of Ava, the tactile reality of her handwriting and her body, shatters this detachment. For the first time, Savannah is forced to confront a life that cannot be "scrolled past."
The Suspension of Disbelief
While the novel is a triumph of character-driven fiction, it does require a degree of narrative suspension of disbelief. The logistics of three adults going missing in a major wilderness area for months without a search-and-rescue operation locating them—or finding any trace of their technology, footprints, or remains—is a significant plot hurdle. The vastness of the Adirondacks is a formidable setting, but in the age of GPS, cell towers, and social media connectivity, the silence surrounding their disappearance remains a point of contention for readers.
However, within the framework of the novel’s psychological focus, this gap functions as a narrative convenience that allows the focus to remain strictly on the emotional and symbolic interplay between the two women. The setting is less a geographical location and more an internal landscape of cold, isolation, and decay.
Implications: A Mirror to Our Own Loneliness
The brilliance of Decomposition Book lies in its ability to force the reader into the same intimate space that Savannah occupies. Through the close first-person perspective, we are trapped within her head, forced to experience her spirals, her grief, and her queer longing.
The novel serves as a powerful commentary on several fronts:
- The Nature of Trauma: It explores how trauma can act as a lens through which we view ourselves, often distorting our self-image until we believe the cruel narratives imposed upon us by others.
- The Queer Experience: Ava’s role as a catalyst is not merely coincidental. Her existence as an openly gay, confident woman provides a sharp contrast to Savannah’s own tentative navigation of her identity. The relationship, though one-sided, is transformative.
- The Ethics of Observation: The novel interrogates the ethics of witnessing. When is it better to intervene, and when does our own need for survival override our moral obligations to the dead?
As the physical body of Ava continues its inexorable return to the earth—described by Savannah in haunting, unflinching detail—her internal "spirit" seems to solidify in Savannah’s mind. The "decomposition" of the body acts as a horrific, yet beautiful, parallel to the slow, painful construction of a new, more authentic self for Savannah.
Ultimately, Decomposition Book is a genre-defying work. It is part body-horror thriller, part queer coming-of-age story, and part meditation on the invisible, debilitating nature of mental illness. Sara Van Os has crafted a narrative that is both profoundly disturbing and deeply moving, suggesting that sometimes, to find the truth of who we are, we must look into the darkest, most uncomfortable corners of our lives. It is a testament to the idea that even in our most isolated moments, we are connected by the shared, fragile, and often terrifying experience of being human.
Reynand Wu
Neng Nana
