Audiobook Sample

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Dear fellow book lovers,

It was during a particularly cold autumn evening when I first pressed play on Algernon Blackwood’s “The Wendigo,” narrated by Amy Gramour. As the wind howled outside my window, mirroring the desolate Canadian wilderness described in the story, I found myself completely transported into Blackwood’s world of primal fear and supernatural dread.

The audiobook, released by LibriVox in 2011, runs just under two hours—a perfect length for a single sitting, which is exactly how I consumed it. Gramour’s narration is nothing short of mesmerizing. Her voice carries a certain warmth that stands in stark contrast to the chilling tale she tells, creating an unsettling juxtaposition that enhanced my listening experience. When she shifts into the French-Canadian accent of Défago, or captures the academic tone of Dr. Cathcart, you can feel her commitment to bringing each character distinctly to life.

Blackwood’s story follows a hunting party venturing into the remote Canadian wilderness, where one member is mysteriously abducted by the legendary Wendigo—a malevolent spirit of the forest. What struck me most was how Blackwood builds tension not through explicit horror, but through suggestion and atmosphere. The vast emptiness of the forest becomes a character itself, with Gramour’s pacing perfectly capturing the growing sense of isolation and vulnerability the characters experience.

There’s a particular scene where the characters first hear the Wendigo’s call in the night that sent genuine shivers down my spine. Gramour’s delivery of the line “My feet of fire! My burning feet of fire!” will likely haunt me for weeks to come. Her voice drops to just above a whisper, forcing you to lean in closer—just as the characters themselves strain to identify the source of the eerie sound.

As someone who grew up camping in northern forests, this story resonated with me on a deeply personal level. I recognized that primal fear that can overtake you when alone in the wilderness at night, when every snapping twig or distant call seems to carry sinister intent. Blackwood taps into this universal fear masterfully, and Gramour’s narration amplifies it.

The recording quality, while not at the level of modern commercial productions, has a raw, intimate quality that actually enhances the storytelling. It feels as though Gramour is sitting across from you by firelight, recounting a tale passed down through generations.

What I appreciate most about this audiobook is how it relies on psychological horror rather than gore or shock value. The true terror lies in what remains unseen and unexplained—the footprints that lead impossibly upward into the sky, the transformation that occurs beyond our view, the questions that linger after the final words fade.

“The Wendigo” is a masterclass in atmospheric horror, and this LibriVox production does it full justice. If you’re looking for an audiobook that will make you think twice about that camping trip you’ve been planning, or simply want to experience one of the classics of supernatural literature brought vividly to life, I cannot recommend this enough. Just perhaps don’t listen to it alone in the woods.

Warmest regards,
Marcus Rivera