SFFWorld Countdown to Hallowe'en 2013

Hobbit

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Hi, all.

Here we are, once again entering the red and gold month of October, where gradually our pathways become less crowded, skittering leaves noisier, evenings darker and the chill edge of the wind cuts closer to bone.

When I’ve talked with experts on film and literary horror and dark fiction I’ve reached the conclusion I’m at best a still studying sophomore in comparison, but I have read a few things that might be of interest and here Hobbit and SFFWorld have built a sanctuary, a space where we share the disturbing, the ominous, the dark and dread-inspiring stories appropriate to the season. Not all spaces are safe, though, and this year I found myself visiting places haunted or somehow … off, some of them spaces inside and some spaces outside, some in cities and some in deep forest or by the sea or in suburbs, some present and some past, some of the stories verging on s.f., some on fantasy, but all … well, perhaps not horror if by that we mean solely physical violence, blood and gore. Some of the works I propose to discuss show a sense of humor, most are dark and some are brooding, and a few … well, a few are violent and bloody.

So, welcome, “Enter freely and of your own free will,” knowing in this space you are encouraged to enter the discussion at any point along our tour of paths to Halloween, free to discuss, comment, question or disagree with my views, and to recommend other readings. Come one, come all to our (torch-lit? pitchfork wielding?) procession through October.


Randy M.
 
CRONOS, directed by Guillermo del Toro (Criterion Collection, 1993)

A heart-warming tale of familial love and loyalty, alchemy, immortality and bloodshed.

Honest.

An alchemist in Europe creates the Cronos Device to cheat time and gain immortality. In 1938 a bomb kills the alchemist and reveals his underground lair, the contents of which, including a body drained of blood, the authorities keep secret. But the authorities never find a hint of the Cronos device.

In the early 1990s Jesus Gris, an elderly antiques dealer, and his eight-year-old granddaughter Aurora stumble onto and accidentally start the device after a fumbled attempt to purchase it by the nephew of a dying businessman, De la Guardia, reveals its existence to them. De la Guardia owns the alchemist’s diary and has learned of the device and the cost of using it, a price De la Guardia would not hesitate to pay. While the device restores Gris’ energy and youth, he only comes to understand its cost slowly, and only fully understands it when both his life and his granddaughter’s are at stake.

And that, in essence, is the story.

Before Pan’s Labyrinth, before Hellboy, before Blade 2 or Mimic, there was Cronos, del Toro’s first full-length feature movie, winner of the International Critics’ Award at Cannes and acclaimed around the world, though not so widely in the U.S. where foreign films get relatively little attention. Still, this movie generated a great deal of chatter among horror and fantasy fans at the time and helped generate interest in del Toro’s early American films.

Cronos begins with the alchemist’s story, then quickly establishes the relationship between Gris and Aurora. As Gris, Frederico Luppi brings a basic decency to the movie, taking Aurora to work and playing with her until customers come into his shop, treating her with respect which in turn is shown in her bearing and in her resourcefulness. Tamara Shanath is adorable, but neither cloying nor saccharine as Aurora, who proceeds through the film with equanimity in the face of horrific events because of her love for and trust in Gris. Only once does Aurora speak, and only one word at a pivotal moment, and del Toro has laid a foundation so solid by then that the result of the word is heart-breaking and inspiring.

Contrasted to that relationship, De la Guardia played by Claudio Brook and his nephew Angel, played by Ron Perlman (Ron Beauty and the Beast, Sons of Anarchy, Hellboy Perlman; I suspect an interesting story behind how he and del Toro met) are at each other’s throats, Angel vicious and self-serving and his uncle obsessed and unforgiving. Brooks is fine as De la Guardia, cunning and ruthless without over-playing it, and the movie gets a burst of raw, crude, frequently comic energy every time Perlman appears.

To be up-front, at one-level this is a vampire movie. But it’s not like any American or British vampire movie I’ve seen as del Toro integrates the fantastic into his tale and uses it like a fine instrument to reveal character. I recommend this movie highly and if you happen to see the Criterion DVD, be sure to watch Geometria, an early horror short film by del Toro based on a Fredric Brown short story, and the tour of del Toro’s office space, known as Bleak House, with its extensive libraries – yes, plural – and movie memorabilia.


Other fine film vampires:
Nosferatu – directed by F. W. Murnau, 1922
Nosferatu – directed by Werner Herzog, 1979
Dracula – directed by Tod Browning, 1931
Horror of Dracula – directed by Terence Fisher, 1958
Shadow of the Vampire—directed by E. Elias Merhige, 2000


Friday: NOS4A2 by Joe Hill
 
It wouldn't be Halloween without this thread.

Glad to see this thread restarting. And a great place to start! Cronos is my favorite del Toro movie.
BTW, it is available for streaming on Amazon.

Looking forward to this thread.

Best,
WPS
 
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I've been saving The Werewolf of Paris by Guy Endore since early summer. Hopefully I'll start on it soon.
Meanwhile, I've been doing my warm up for Halloween in September with : Gone South by Robert McCammon, and action thriller with horror elements, and with The Year of the Ladybird by Graham Joyce, a ghost story set in an English seaside resort.
 
Thanks, Mark for opening up the thread for me.

WPS: I hadn't seen Cronos until this year and was quite impressed with how well del Toro started his career. A really fine little movie.

Algernoninc: Haven't read the McCammon or Joyce, though I've heard good things about the former novel and really enjoyed Joyce's story collection, Partial Eclipse. I'll be interested in hearing your comments when you've finished. About The Werewolf of Paris, I read and commented on it last year. A really fine novel, and one I feel should be more widely known. I was thrilled to see it back in print.


Randy M.
 
In general I haven't read much horror, but last October the Halloween thread convinced me to read a few horror novels. They were quite enjoyable, so this year I plan to spend the whole month on horror. Here's what I've bought to read:

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Last October I read The Haunting of Hill House which I absolutely loved, so it made sense to read this one this year. Speaking of The Haunting of Hill House, I also plan to watch the movie, which is available at my local library.

She Walks in Darkness by Evangeline Walton. This was released by Tachyon this week. I haven't read anything by her in the past, and I'm not sure if this is horror or straight fantasy, but based on the recommendation from Tim Powers, I bought it. He called it a "Gothic adventure" which sounds good to me.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. I loved Treasure Island, and this is obviously one of the classics.

Great Horror Stories. This is a cheap Dover anthology with some short stories mentioned in past October threads, including stories by Kipling, M. R. James, Hodgson, Jacobs, Blackwood, Bierce, Machen, Stoker, Poe, and Lovecraft.

Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber.

The Vampyre by John Polidori. It seems natural to read this since I loved Tim Power's The Stress of Her Regard and Hide Me Among the Graves, which involve Polidori and his contemporaries.

Dracula by Bram Stoker, I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, and if there is time, The Golden by Lucius Shepherd. I figured I may as well continue with the vampire theme until Halloween arrives.

As I read them, I'll try to write my thoughts down in this thread. And thanks to those that have contributed to these threads in the past. I've enjoyed reading your reviews and recommendations.
 
In general I haven't read much horror, but last October the Halloween thread convinced me to read a few horror novels. They were quite enjoyable, so this year I plan to spend the whole month on horror. Here's what I've bought to read:

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Last October I read The Haunting of Hill House which I absolutely loved, so it made sense to read this one this year. Speaking of The Haunting of Hill House, I also plan to watch the movie, which is available at my local library.

She Walks in Darkness by Evangeline Walton. This was released by Tachyon this week. I haven't read anything by her in the past, and I'm not sure if this is horror or straight fantasy, but based on the recommendation from Tim Powers, I bought it. He called it a "Gothic adventure" which sounds good to me.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. I loved Treasure Island, and this is obviously one of the classics.

Great Horror Stories. This is a cheap Dover anthology with some short stories mentioned in past October threads, including stories by Kipling, M. R. James, Hodgson, Jacobs, Blackwood, Bierce, Machen, Stoker, Poe, and Lovecraft.

Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber.

The Vampyre by John Polidori. It seems natural to read this since I loved Tim Power's The Stress of Her Regard and Hide Me Among the Graves, which involve Polidori and his contemporaries.

Dracula by Bram Stoker, I Am Legend by Richard Matheson, and if there is time, The Golden by Lucius Shepherd. I figured I may as well continue with the vampire theme until Halloween arrives.

As I read them, I'll try to write my thoughts down in this thread. And thanks to those that have contributed to these threads in the past. I've enjoyed reading your reviews and recommendations.

Hi, Slindeman. I'm glad to hear past threads were useful.

This is a fine line up. The Walton looks interesting, the Shepard has intrigued me but I haven't gotten to it, and I still haven't gotten to that Jackson novel, though it's been on my radar for years. About the movie of The Haunting of Hill House, I hope it's the 1963 version, which is still powerful. The 1999 version is ... not so much in spite of a terrific cast.

About the Polidori -- don't expect a lot from it as story, but it sets some precedents that established the image of the vampire for decades and still has some affect on how we view them.

I look forward to hearing what you have to say.


Randy M.
 
Nos4a2

I managed to finish this a bit sooner than I expected, so here goes ...

NOS4A2 by Joe Hill (William Morrow [imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, 2013)

Nurse Thornton dropped into the long-term-care ward a little before eight with a hot bag of blood for Charlie Manx.
— first paragraph, prologue​


Victoria “Vic” McQueen, “Brat” to her dad, finds things. Her mom loses a bracelet, her friend loses a toy, a neighbor loses a pet, and Vic hops on her Raleigh Tuff Burner bicycle, pedals herself into a near-trance until she reaches her bridge and her bridge always delivers her to what she wants to find. And when she wants to find trouble, well, her bridge leads her all the way to the “Sleigh House” and the kidnapper Charlie Manx, who has wheels of his own, a 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith, that can whisk him along unmapped roads, roads leading to the territory he has named Christmasland.

Going to Christmasland demands a certain price, a certain … fuel. And Charlie is more than a kidnapper, and much, much older than he looks. And he looks pretty old.

Vic survives her first encounter with Manx and meets the future father of her son in the process. But the toll of her encounter is high, depriving her of any sense of normality or serenity. She knows she’ll meet Manx again.

All of that barely scratches the surface of early events in NOS4A2. Joe Hill provides several well-realized characters, like Linda and Chris McQueen, Vic’s parents; Wayne, her son; Lou, Wayne’s father; and especially Bing Partridge, Manx’s henchman, and Maggie Leigh, another woman with a power who befriends Vic. Hill is Stephen King’s son and at least at the beginning of the novel he writes a lot like King at his best, setting up the basic situation quickly and efficiently, laying the foundation for what happens later in the novel. Hill’s writing has a forward momentum that makes it feel the book is reading itself and you’re just absorbing images and events. The last few hundred pages – the U. S. hardcover runs 689 pages – go by like bats outta Vic’s bridge.

Where Hill differs from his father, at least in this novel and Heart-Shaped Box, in not focusing on a community in a set location – this isn’t about a Derry or a ‘Salem’s Lot. Hill introduces and sketches in the widely-scattered characters he needs, the ones likely to be involved in such doings, so that we feel we know them and even care for some of them, and he then proceeds to tell his story briskly, but never so fast he can’t insert a grace note, as when a store full of customers aid Vic and Lou, one of the customers a young mother: “The blonde took quiet command of the room and everyone in it then, all without raising her voice or ever setting down her toddler. Later, when Vic thought about what she liked best in women, she always thought of the soldier’s wife, of her certainty and her quiet decency. She thought of mothering, which was really another word for being present and caring what happened to someone.”

That quote also represents a concern Hill shares with his father, the consideration and appreciation of family. Vic does not belong to the traditional nuclear family; her parents’ marriage is broken and not reparable, and when she has a family of her own her fears for her sanity and her doubts of her fitness to be a mother distances her from Lou and Wayne, even as those two stand at the center of her attention, even as she strives to be “present and caring.”

I’ve seen discussion on-line about the title and why allude to Nosferatu when you don’t feature the usual vampiric activity and, outside the lines quoted above, no ingestion of blood. It’s a fair question. Still, there are markers, like the description of Manx, which isn’t far from that of Max Schreck or Stephen King’s Barlow from Salem’s Lot. And Manx sleeps during the day. And he has a Renfield in Bing Partridge. And his Rolls Royce Wraith is rather like a metal coffin with wheels.

Okay, that last is stretching it some, and all of that is superficial or literary allusion. What really counts as vampirism is, first, the extraction of a child’s soul as fuel for the car to reach Christmasland. And second, a Tim-Powers-like price for power: When Vic uses her abilities, the brutality of the resulting headaches is in proportion to the duration of use and afterwards always feels somehow diminished; further, exercising her abilities costs Maggie Leigh her power of speech even as it withers her physically over time. And then there’s Manx, whose humanity was leeched away by using the symbol of his power, the Rolls Royce Wraith. The true Nosferatu here may be that car, or more likely, what it symbolizes, the exercise of power without regard to consequence. Vic, Maggie, even Charlie Manx have power, great power, and the use of it takes them step by step away from the people around them, distancing them from the lives of everyone else around them.

Does NOS4A2 maybe allude to the power of story-telling, and the cost over time of the extraction of detail from the writer’s experience and memory and emotion, the distancing from family to pursue a lonely art?

That’s a pretty fair question, too, and I wonder how Hill and his dad would respond. In the meantime, like Hobbit I can’t recommend this novel highly enough.


MORE JOE HILL
Heart-Shaped Box


MORE VAMPIRES:
I am Legend by Richard Matheson
Salem’s Lot by Stephen King
Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice
The Stress of Her Regard by Tim Powers


Next: Joyland by Stephen King


Randy M.
 
JOYLAND by Stephen King (Hard Case Crime, 2013)

I had a car, but on most days in that fall of 1973 I walked to Joyland from Mrs. Shoplaw’s Beachside Accommodations in the town of Heaven’s Bay. It seemed like the right thing to do. The only thing, actually. By early September, Heaven’s Beach was almost completely deserted, which suited my mood. That fall was the most beautiful of my life. Even forty years later I can say that. And I was never so unhappy. I can say that, too. People think first love is sweet, and never sweeter than when that first bond snaps. You’ve heard a thousand pop and country songs that prove the point; some fool got his heart broke. Yet that first broken heart is always the most painful, the slowest to mend, and leaves the most visible scar. What’s so sweet about that?
— first paragraph, prologue​


College junior Devin Jones, about to have his heart broken by his girlfriend, finds a summer job along the shore of Heaven’s Bay, North Carolina in the amusement park known as Joyland. And it is a Joyland for the children who visit, and a refuge for the former carnys who staff the park and give it its air of mostly good-natured hucksterism.

But Joyland’s past includes a murder four years before. A young woman, escorted into the park by a man with a hat down over his forehead and wearing dark sunglasses, has a fun time until the last ride, Joyland’s only dark ride, the Horror House. Her body was found along the side of the track, throat cut. It’s common for the college students who work at Joyland to try to ferret out what they can about the murder, but Devin learns more than most and with a bit of research help from his new friend Erin, the answer to the mystery seems within reach. And then the phone rings ...

This is King in his most relaxed story-telling mode, adopting a first person narrator in his sixties – keep that in mind; as with Cronos age is a mostly unintentional theme in this year’s entries – harking back to the summer he truly grew up and recalling the mystery he became involved with. As always there is King’s ease of narration, the flow of story gradually unearthing the parameters of the mystery and its solution – we learn early on the killer wore gloves and two shirts, so the murder was premeditated, and later find there are photos of the man with the victim but, of course, his face is obscured. And, too, the narration establishes that Joyland resides in Kingland: the dead woman’s ghost has been seen; there is a fortune-teller for the park who just might have a touch of the gift of prophesy and a young boy even more gifted. And as always, King takes the time to fill in his characters, like Erin and her boyfriend, Tom, both working Joyland and both new friends Devin makes, as well as the carnys he works with, in no small part by offering a happy array of carny-speak, some real and some King invention.

Others precede me in saying this is not primarily a horror story or even a mystery, but a coming-of-age novel, and King writes that about as well as anyone. To Joyland Devin goes and he finds a broken-heart and also ways to heal through the concern and care of his new friends, but mainly through exercising his own large-heartedness. He meets Annie and Mike, the latter a young boy severely ill, the former his mother, tightly buttoned down and wary of strangers but devoted to giving Mike the best summer she possibly can, something Devin may be able to help with.

One quality that has often distinguished Kingland from the realms of other horror writers is the possibility of kindness, of compassion that leads to action: Think of Dick Hallorann in The Shining or Ben Mears in Salem’s Lot or Mike Noonan in Bag of Bones. Here King offers us just enough to class this as a mildly spooky concoction while concentrating on Devin Jones, another in the catalog of grounded, level-headed, large-hearted King narrators, recalling in the tranquility of age a pivotal event in his life which results in the best possible beach read, the novel that makes you feel a little better for having read it.


POSSIBLE READINGS OF SIMILAR INTEREST:
Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury
The Snowman’s Children and Struwwelpeter by Glen Hirshberg
Boobs by Suzy McKee Charnas


Monday: The Sinful Ones by Fritz Leiber
 
Randy M. said:
This is a fine line up. The Walton looks interesting, the Shepard has intrigued me but I haven't gotten to it, and I still haven't gotten to that Jackson novel, though it's been on my radar for years. About the movie of The Haunting of Hill House, I hope it's the 1963 version, which is still powerful. The 1999 version is ... not so much in spite of a terrific cast.

The Shepard wasn't on my radar, but I ordered a hardcover copy of Power's Last Call from e-bay and the seller also included a free hardcover copy of The Golden as a bonus. I had never heard of the book, but I had been wanting to try something by Shepard, so it was a nice bonus.

Others precede me in saying this is not primarily a horror story or even a mystery, but a coming-of-age novel, and King writes that about as well as anyone.

It seems like carnivals, coming of age, and horror seem to go hand in hand in hand. Great review, by the way. I enjoyed both Joyland (read earlier this year) and Something Wicked this Way Comes (read last October), so I will definitely take a look at your other recommendations. Another similar book is Blaylock's Land of Dreams, although I don't remember it being quite as much a coming of age story as the others are. It does feature a young protagonist, however, and is a cracking good read.
 
The Shepard wasn't on my radar, but I ordered a hardcover copy of Power's Last Call from e-bay and the seller also included a free hardcover copy of The Golden as a bonus. I had never heard of the book, but I had been wanting to try something by Shepard, so it was a nice bonus.

Nice deal. Later in the month I'll be discussing one of Shepard's other novels.

It seems like carnivals, coming of age, and horror seem to go hand in hand in hand. Great review, by the way. I enjoyed both Joyland (read earlier this year) and Something Wicked this Way Comes (read last October), so I will definitely take a look at your other recommendations. Another similar book is Blaylock's Land of Dreams, although I don't remember it being quite as much a coming of age story as the others are. It does feature a young protagonist, however, and is a cracking good read.

Thank you. I really enjoyed King's novel as a laid-back excursion into nostalgia. In some ways it's just finger-exercise for him, but he plays it really well. As does his son, Joe Hill with NOS4A2. Talented clan, those Kings.

I think I recall the Blaylock as being in tottering Mount TBR -- he's a fantasist I've heard about over and over for years but still haven't read one of his novels. That sounds like a good place to start.


Randy M.
 
I'm saving Hill's NOS4R2 (I'm English, I get the sensible title) until closer to the 'Big Day'. I'm quite looking forward to it, even though I've had it since the day it came out over here!

As for Joyland - yeah, probably not a horror novel but more a novel with brief horror elements. It was rather enjoyable, however, and it's one of a couple of King novels I've read this year, and possibly one of the stronger ones.
 
Once again, Randy, thank you: great review.

Some of James Blaylock's work has just been re-released here in the UK through Titan Books. That should make some of them easier to get hold of after not being available for a while. (Having said that, I still haven't read one myself!)

I am contemplating a reread of Something Wicked. It is becoming one of my favourite books, certainly one of my favourite Halloween reads, and definitely one of my favourite Bradburys. One day I'd like to own a copy of Dark Carnival, long out of print. I have the stories in other collections, but I still would like one...

M.
 
Once again, Randy, thank you: great review.

Some of James Blaylock's work has just been re-released here in the UK through Titan Books. That should make some of them easier to get hold of after not being available for a while. (Having said that, I still haven't read one myself!)

I am contemplating a reread of Something Wicked. It is becoming one of my favourite books, certainly one of my favourite Halloween reads, and definitely one of my favourite Bradburys. One day I'd like to own a copy of Dark Carnival, long out of print. I have the stories in other collections, but I still would like one...

M.

Thanks, Mark.

Those Blaylock books have been reissued here in the U.S., too. I've picked them up and look forward to reading them. Just not sure when.

Anyway, I've read Something Wicked This Way Comes at least 5 times, always with reservations, but also always with a kind of joy. Bradbury puts the emotional content right out in front in that novel, no holding back, and the enthusiasm in the writing just triggers a positive response in me every time. I suppose when I first read it, the boys reminded me somewhat of myself and my contemporaries, and the father of my father. In more recent read, I'm closer to understanding the father and the boys seem much farther away, distant memories rather that recent experience. It's a flawed book, but still a great and entertaining one. And I'd love to have a copy of Dark Carnival, too. There are a few stories I believe that didn't make it to The October Country.


Randy M.
 
THE SINFUL ONES by Fritz Leiber (Pocket Books, 1980 [revision of novel originally published in 1950])

When Carr Mackey first caught sight of the frightened girl, he was feeling exceptionally bored. The offices of General Employment seemed a jail, time an unclimbable wall, life a straitjacket, the very air a slow-setting invisible cement. Even thoughts of Marcia failed to put any color in his gray mood.​

– first paragraph​

Mackey is just a cog in the daily-grind, performing his role without imagination or invention, recognizing his rut but not sure how he wants to escape it. Marcia, his girlfriend, pushes him to show some ambition and assertiveness, but he’s not won over by her ideas of success. When Mackey meets Jane he finds he can stand outside the flow of life, watch the parts move and see the machinery act as though he’s still in place, still mouthing his lines, as others respond to things he hasn’t said or done.

But Jane and Mackey aren’t the only people who can extract themselves from the script, and at least some of the others are dangerous, even murderous.


The history of The Sinful Ones is almost as interesting as the novel. In the 1980 edition Leiber added an afterward explaining how he wrote four chapters after the success of Gather Darkness in Astounding Science-Fiction and Conjure Wife in Unknown Worlds magazine (both published in 1943), hoping to place it in Unknown only to find the magazine was being ended due to a WWII paper shortage. After the war book publishing became a possibility and he finished the novel to take advantage of that opportunity. In 1950 the magazine, Fantastic Adventures agreed to publish a 40,000 word version, so he pared it down to novella length, titled “You’re All Alone.” Three years later a small publishing house published The Sinful Ones in combination with another novel. Once published, Leiber was surprised to find his novel, without anyone consulting him, had acquired sex scenes, the publishers tailoring his book to match the other, soft-porn, novel. And that was what he revised for the standards of 1980.

The Sinful Ones is a solid piece of work if you can read it remembering its context of post-World War II. I would recommend it, and especially to readers who enjoy Leiber’s dark fantasy and horror, and those who want to see the beginnings of urban fantasy which Leiber helped to define in works like Conjure Wife. But it is flawed, relying too much on the pulp plot hugger-mugger of chase scenes and presenting three main villains who feel appropriated from Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon while lacking the vividness of Hammett’s characters. Further, with the increased sophistication of today’s readers, Mackey may seem purposely dense in his inability to grasp the situation in which he finds himself. Likewise Jane’s hesitation to explain the situation feels as much like plot necessity as concern for Mackey’s well-being.

However, Leiber’s writing retains its power to push you through the improbable, and several passages extend and deepen Leiber’s continuing fascination with the power and personality of cities and the influence they exert over people. In characterizing Chicago, Leiber writes of the business district, “Here the feeling of hostile desolation, that had accompanied him for some time, increased markedly. It wasn’t only that the liquor was dying in him. Back by the stores and theaters there had been at least the ghost of some sort of human excitement, however cheap and stale, the glamor of tawdry lures hung to enmesh human appetites. But these great looming office buildings, with their trappings of iron-work and facings of granite, actually wanted to be ugly. They gloried in their stony efficiency, their indifference to human desires, their gray ability to crush out happiness.”

At the river, “From behind the castellated black wall of warehouses, elevators, bridges, and cranes to the west, the setting sun sent a giant spray of dark red fire streaming through the immensity of the air above the Chicago River. It bloodily edged the giant shoulders of the skyscrapers crowded around the Michigan Avenue bridge like a herd of gray mammoths stopping by the river for the night. It glared from their many faceted window-eyes to the west, but left those to the east in gloom – the small, wickedly intelligent window-eyes expressing the hard, alien thoughts that cities have been thinking since Ur and Alexandria and Rome. It turned the white tiles of the Wrigley Tower a delicate salmon pink and the golden trim of the Carbon and Carbide Building a rosy copper.”

These passages echo passages in early stories like “Smoke Ghost” and foreshadows Our Lady of Darkness wherein cities (Chicago and San Francisco, respectively) seem to shelter or generate entities that are not human in a way similar to that of the Danube River in Algernon Blackwood’s “The Willows”. (More on that story later this month.)

And, along with his thoughts on cities, Leiber contemplates the human condition, as here: “Carr felt a great wave of nausea. Here, he saw in an unwilling flash of thought, was an allegory of the universe’s whole history – those screams crying out death and horror and pain, a murderer loose in the house of life, catlike cruelty at the cosmos’ core, destruction holding a match to the earth’s fuse – and the machine-men going about their patterned business with their minds black, their eyes blind, their ears unhearing.” In the afterward Leiber speculates slightly about what the story might have been if he’d written it all at the time of first inspiration, but this passage seems to me born of considering post-World War II revelations of atrocities. I wonder if the Leiber before war’s end would have thought of the lock-step of civilization leading to such calamity.


Several years ago I read the novella version, “You’re All Alone,” and would even more strongly recommend tracking that down. For me it compresses the flaws right out of the novel, becoming more vivid in the process, and it was reissued in 2011: You're All Alone. Honestly, I know nothing about the publisher and was surprised to see the line-up of stories they are re-issuing. I see Barnes & Noble and Amazon both list this edition.


Other works of similar interest:
The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag” by Robert A. Heinlein
Our Lady of Darkness by Fritz Leiber (SFFWorld Review),
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
The Somnambulist by Jonathan Barnes
Midnight Riot by Ben Aaronovitch


Next: A STIR OF ECHOES by Richard Matheson
 
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We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson.

18-year-old Mary Katherine Blackwood--Merricat for short--narrates this unsettling tale of isolation, neuroses, and dark comedy. Together with her sister Constance, Uncle Julian, and cat Jordan, Merricat lives in the secluded Blackwood mansion near a typical New England village. Merricat, in the first few sentences of her narrative, states, "Everyone else in my family is dead." It quickly becomes evident that the controversial poisoning of Merricat's family is the pivotal event around which Jackson builds her story.

Neuroses and phobias abound among the remaining Blackwood clan. Constance will not step foot beyond her cherished garden. Uncle Julian, an invalid, refuses to leave the mansion and often unknowingly relives the past. Merricat ventures the furthest, going into town on Tuesdays to buy supplies despite constant heckling by the townspeople who can't help but gossip about her family's poisoning. Merricat's frequent morbid thoughts--intermixed with flights of fantasy and absurdity--point to her mental immaturity. Despite their problems, however, the Blackwood family has come to grips with their situation and has arrived at a routine, if isolated, way of life.

And there they teeter, on the edge of normality, until trouble comes knocking. The arrival of their cousin, Charles, sets in motion events that put Constance and Merricat at odds, and fans the flames of conflict between the townspeople and the Blackwood clan. With great skill, Jackson interweaves the truth about the past with the troubles of the present. This she does through the eyes of a young narrator who may or may not be reliable--or even sane.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a gripping story, a book short on thrills but full of subtle pleasures. It is not so shocking as "The Lottery", nor so breathtaking as The Haunting of Hill House. It is a narrative that slides under the skin, that tempts you to examine the people in your own life, to wonder what strange thoughts may lurk in their minds or what dark deeds may lay in their pasts. It touches on relationships, sympathy (and lack thereof), alienation, greed, and evil--and does so in such an unsettling way that you may well question Jackson's own state of mind.
 
Nice one, Scott: you enjoyed it then? :)

M.
 
So I finished We Have Always Live in the Castle (obviously) and liked it a lot. I wouldn't say it's as good as her more well known stuff, but it is well worth reading. I'm half way through She Walks in Darkness now. It starts out with a bang, and so far it is unfolding as a Gothic mystery set at an Italian villa with some definite horror undertones. It will be interesting to see where it goes in the second half. So far there haven't been any overt fantasy elements.

I was able to watch the '63 version of The Haunting last night. Other than a bit of an annoying soundtrack--loud brass instruments must be scary! :)--it was excellent. I haven't watched enough horror to compare it to anything, but it followed the book quite closely. The ending was perhaps not as spectacular as it could have been. Anyway, it kept my teenage boys glued to their seats, which is no small feat, although they will probably tell me that it was lame compared to something like Insidious (which they love).

Nice one, Scott: you enjoyed it then? :)

Edit: Posted before I saw your reply. I definitely liked it. I'm also now realizing that I have a soft spot for Gothic mansions (haunted or otherwise). I love mysteries that feature dark and creepy mansions (Mary Roberts Rinehart especially, and probably some Agatha Christie too), and have enjoyed the few horror novels I've read that feature mansions. I guess that's a good thing, since there are probably lots of such stories.
 
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This might be one for you, then, Scott!

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M.
 
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Excellent summation of the Jackson novel. I don't know how many times I've picked that one up and not quite started it. I hope to finally get to it in the coming year. (Don't know how many times I've said that, too.) I have a thing for haunted houses and insofar as your predilection and mine overlap, I have a couple of books coming up in the next week that might pique your interest. (Well, one at least; the other doesn't want to write up easily.)

Glad to hear about She Walks in Darkness. That one has intrigued me since I first heard about it a few months back.

The Haunting is one of my favorites. The director, Robert Wise, was a film editor who worked on Citizen Kane and then started directing under producer Val Lewton. Lewton at the time was producing low budget horror movies for RKO, including one of the great 1940s horror movies, The Cat People. Anyway, Wise's first movie was based on a Robert Louis Stevenson short story, "The Body Snatchers," about ghouls -- but human ghouls digging up bodies for use by the local medical school. It's one of my favorites, maybe even a little more so than The Cat People.

Anyway, what Wise learned from all that he incorporated into The Haunting and I haven't seen a better ghost movie than that one. You'll find most readers agree, though many film horror fans may find it a bit tame now.


Randy M.
 

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