Strange Practice by Vivian Shaw

Strange Practice is a novel filled with monsters – to quote the book, “in its descriptive, rather than pejorative, sense”. This means that on the streets of present-day London lurk ”vampires, were-creatures, mummies, banshees, ghouls, bogey-men… (and)… the occasional barrow-wight.”

Protecting these peculiar creatures from all things good and fair (though, in reality, they are much nastier and more horrible than the beings already mentioned) is Dr. Greta Helsing, daughter of famous physician Wilfert Helsing, now deceased. Running around modern-day London from her Harley Street offices in her battered Mini, she holds down a regular practice but also looks after those creatures of the night that need specialist care and attention – and most importantly, discretion. If you are a banshee with vocal strain or a barrow-wight with arthritis, the quiet word on the street is that Greta’s the woman to take care of you.

Clearly there are different approaches to such a scenario. One could create creatures so frightening that the mere thought of their activities are going to keep you awake at night. Vivian’s take on the idea is different – that they are generally beings to be treated with respect and even pity. They are often creatures who, instead of creating fear, live in fear themselves – of being discovered, of being hated, of being killed.

Within this we are introduced to a range of likeable and memorable monsters. There’s Ruthven, the centuries-old sophisticated vampire living in the rich quarters of London who, when bored – and being undead, he does have a lot of time on his hands – will take up a new hobby, like reconditioning vintage cars or being able to produce the best coffee. There’s also Fastitocalon (Fass), a demon with self-preservation issues suffering from a long-standing bout of bronchitis, and a family friend of the Helsings for many years.

When Sir Francis Varney the Vampyre (yes, that one of Rymer’s tale, though Rymer’s lengthy Victorian ‘penny-dreadful’ story was evidently generously over-exaggerated and shares little more with Varney than his name) staggers into Ruthven’s house one evening, Greta is asked to make a house call. She discovers Varney very ill, having being stabbed with a tainted cross-shaped dagger belonging to a mysterious sect of murderous monks, the Gladius Sancti.

Greta soon finds herself at risk for consorting with the undead. For the monks have a bigger purpose and serve a master whose appearance threatens all and puts London at risk.

It’s not easy to gain a reader’s sympathy for things that elsewhere are traditionally creatures of hate and fear. This one, by virtue of its deceptively accessible prose and slightly amused tone, quickly sucked me in. It is an extremely promising debut novel. For a book filled with creatures who ironically want to suck your blood, by the end it is a radiantly positive, life-affirming tale that won me over surprisingly quickly and with effortless prose that simply engages the reader from the start. This is one enjoyed for the lightness of touch and the brilliantly droll characterisation that suffuses a fairly standard plot. There’s suspense, some gruesome torture and a few nail-biting, page-turning incidents that show that Vivian’s got something right. I particularly liked her take on ‘infernocelestial politics’ – the relationship between Heaven and Hell that’s more complicated than most people think.

But most of all, and perhaps surprisingly for a book filled with monsters, Strange Practice has a lot of heart. The characters clearly care for each other and their mutual investment in each other’s well-being leads to a book where you want to see that all is well. Vivian is to be commended for writing an entertaining book with characters that the reader will love – even the undead!

A great read – I look forward to more in the same world. The extract of Book Two at the end of this one suggests that I will want to read more, and soon.

Strange Practice by Vivian Shaw

Published by Orbit UK, July 2017

ISBN: 978 0 356 50887 0

358 pages plus extras

Review by Mark Yon