‘Evocation’ Review: Enjoyable, But Needs More Occultism

In S.T. Gibson’s “Evocation,” psychic prodigy David Aristarkhov balances his day job as a Boston attorney with his side gig as a medium and member of an occult secret society. When David is possessed by a powerful demon, there is only one person he can turn to for help — Rhys McGowan, his society rival and ex-boyfriend. Married to Moira Delacroix, a powerful witch from Georgia who loves scented candles, Rhys must choose whether to ignore David’s plea or let the psychic back into his life, potentially destroying his marriage and inviting in some nasty demons.

It is difficult to give an objective star rating to “Evocation” because of how heavily the book leans into familiar tropes — dark academia, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort — that suit a particular market demographic. This is a story for people who are interested in tarot cards, polyamorous romance, and Drarry (Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter) fanfiction. The banter between the three leads is delightful, but Gibson emphasizes these romantic relationships over a detailed magic system or compelling plot. As a result, “Evocation” is more slow-paced than online plot summaries would suggest, and the fantasy element serves as a backdrop to the romance rather than a primary driver of the story.

One of the most enticing aspects of “Evocation” is the cozy Gothic atmosphere conjured by the incredible craftsmanship of the hardcover book. “Evocation” looks like a grimoire, with elaborate swirls of silver framing a haunting image of protagonist David Aristarkhov hanging upside down with one leg bent. A hazy drawing of blue-tinged candles graces the inside covers. Each chapter title contains a tiny inked image of a playing card representing the protagonists’ perspectives: the hanged man for David, the chariot for Rhys, and the high priestess for Moira.

After cracking open the silver-embossed covers, the reader will immediately notice how Gibson’s quippy, Austen-esque narrative voice meshes perfectly with David Aristarkhov’s personality — “It always irritated him when throwing money at a problem didn’t make it go away.”

These comedic yet keen insights help characterize the spoiled, charismatic, and chaotic lead and contribute immensely to the likeability of “Evocation.” David reads like a black cat who fell into the bathtub by accident and, drenched in water, flicks its ears grumpily while trying to appear perfectly composed.

Another particularly well-developed element of “Evocation” is its Boston setting. Dunkin Donuts, Tatte, and apple fritters appear frequently. Characters live near Fenway Park and in Jamaica Plain, while seances and secret occult meetings occur “within a stone’s throw from Harvard Yard.” The connection between the magical world and Harvard in particular addresses some of the major criticisms of the Boston elite, such as the role of nepotism in job promotions and the exclusion of women and trans men from traditional all-male spaces where powerful networks are made.

Rhys is described as “radiat[ing] an ambitious middle-class energy that made old money nervous” and limits his ability to gain social or ceremonial power in the occult fraternity to which he and David belong. The social hierarchy of this organization plays a crucial role in the story, and the group’s practices parallel legacy admissions and the importance of family connections in elite institutions.

However, in spite of these hints of mysterious rituals and demons, there is very little to do with actual magic in the novel. Early in “Evocation,” Gibson implies the long history of various magical professions when Rhys explains how witchcraft is tied to ancestral practices in the home and community, whereas his practice “traced its magical lineage more to monasteries and mystery cults.”

Following this tantalizing beginning, the reader’s knowledge of Rhys’s sorcery is limited to shots of him frantically flipping through aesthetic old books for a demon’s name, or creating a very generic summoning circle with banal spells — “In the name of the Creator of the Universe, I command you to come out of him.”

An explanation of the magic system, such as why certain patterns on the floor or body movements are significant, the linguistic origins of the spells, the different classes of demons, the way the other world looks, etc., would have made the story much more compelling to fantasy readers.

Ultimately, “Evocation” spends far more time in the real world than it does with ghosts and demons. We learn more about what drink Moira has in chapter fourteen (an iced mocha) and what outfit Rhys wears on a random Saturday (a pale green shirt with dark chinos) than we know about the spirits.

There are moments where Gibson finds the perfect balance between the worlds — “Demons will squabble over contract terms until they wear you down. They’re like corporate lawyers.”

In spite of these brilliant one-liners, “Evocation” reads like a contemporary romance novel with magic as a backdrop rather than a defined system. Disappointing for fantasy fans, but not necessarily for all readers.

Where “Evocation” aims to achieve, it excels. The dialogue is hilarious and the peaceful passages about crystals and kitchen magic are delightful. A book intended for drizzly days and flickering candlelight, not the blinding spotlight of critical literary analysis, “Evocation” certainly evokes something — the safety of familiar stories and characters, of incense-filled witchy rituals and heartfelt romance.

—Staff writer Laura B. Martens can be reached at laura.martens@thecrimson.com.