“It was the poet’s alchemy, to seize the intangible or unspeakable and drag it, real, into the living world.”
The Warm Hands of Ghosts, Katherine Arden’s most recent novel, lingers in the space between history and haunting, memory and myth. Set during World War One (WWI), a conflict often overshadowed by the Second World War, the novel follows Laura Iven, a former battlefield nurse desperate for answers about her brother, Freddie, who is missing and presumed dead. But what she uncovers is something far stranger than she ever imagined—a world where the past doesn’t stay buried, and the dead are never truly gone.
“It’s the pattern of the times. Were you expecting honest justice? There’s none. It’s a new world now. It eats you up, sinners and saints, all alike.”
I read this book in just two days, I couldn’t put it down. Arden’s prose is richly immersive, pulling the reader into the mud-choked trenches and the eerie, fractured landscapes of war-torn Belgium. The novel doesn’t just depict the war’s physical devastation; it conveys its deep psychological scars, making the horrors of the battlefield feel immediate and unshakable. Arden is a master at blending history with the supernatural, and here, she does so in a way that feels both organic and deeply unsettling. The ghosts that populate this novel aren’t just spectral apparitions; they are memories, echoes of trauma, and manifestations of grief that cling to the living like trench mud.
“Armageddon was a fire in the harbor, a box delivered on a cold day. It wasn’t one great tragedy, but ten million tiny ones, and everyone faced theirs alone.”
At its heart, The Warm Hands of Ghosts is a story about love and loss, about the fragile space between the living and the dead. Laura is a compelling protagonist—tough, intelligent, and profoundly wounded by what she has seen. Her devotion to Freddie is the emotional anchor of the novel, and Arden deftly switches between their perspectives, allowing readers to witness the war through both their eyes. Freddie’s journey is suffused with an eerie beauty, capturing the dreamlike liminality of a soldier caught between life and death.
“It was an endless, daydreamer’s longing, satisfying in itself, with no need for fulfilment.”
Arden’s attention to historical detail is meticulous without ever feeling heavy-handed. The trenches, the makeshift hospitals, the bombed-out villages—all are rendered with precision, making the novel feel as much a work of historical fiction as it is a ghost story. Yet the supernatural elements are never mere embellishments; they serve as an extension of trauma, reinforcing the idea that war leaves behind not just ruins, but restless spirits—both literal and figurative.
“‘Winter said there’s ghosts all around you.’ He snorted, ‘When you swim in the ocean there’s water all around you, but no one mentions it.’”
What makes this novel so powerful is its ability to blur the boundaries between horror and history, between the real and the imagined. Arden captures both the suffocating dread of war and moments of haunting, dreamlike beauty, creating a narrative that feels at once intimate and vast. The ghosts in this novel are more than just phantoms; they are manifestations of grief, regret, and the inescapable echoes of violence. War itself is a spectral force, looming over every character, shaping their fates in ways both expected and tragic.
“In a way, it’s easier to imagine the world’s going to end. At least there’s a certainty to it. End—bam—done. But change—where does change stop?”
The supporting cast is equally well-developed, each character carrying their own burdens, their own ghosts. Arden’s ability to craft fully realized secondary characters adds to the immersive quality of the story, making it feel as though every figure in this world has a past worth exploring. The novel’s final twists are both surprising and inevitable, reinforcing its central themes while rewarding close reading. War is the novel’s true antagonist—relentless, indifferent, and inescapable.
“That there’s no such thing as a coward, or a brave man—not out there. There’s no man’s will stronger than the war.”
One of the book’s most remarkable qualities is its balance between lyricism and raw brutality. Arden doesn’t shy away from the horrors of war, but she also doesn’t sensationalize them. Instead, she presents them with a precise, unflinching honesty, making their impact all the more profound. The novel’s dreamlike tone heightens this effect, drawing readers into a world that feels both achingly real and eerily unreal at the same time.
“They are fighting their war in the last world, but we’re dying in this one.”
The Warm Hands of Ghosts is a novel that lingers, much like the spirits that haunt its pages. It is a deeply affecting meditation on war, memory, and the bonds that refuse to be severed, even in death. For those who appreciate historical fiction with a supernatural edge, or simply love a beautifully written, emotionally resonant story, this book is not to be missed. Arden has crafted something rare—an exploration of grief and survival that feels both intimate and epic, haunting in the best possible way.
“Ghosts have warm hands, he kept telling me, as though it were the greatest secret in the world.”
