This is an outstanding collection of weird fiction. The
twenty stories include horror, magical realism, fantasy, and even a steampunk
one. Some are outright fantasy from start to finish; others are so subtle that
it’s like they are our normal world, but someone has pulled it just ever so
slightly out of kilter. My favorite was “Down Atsion
Road”, in which an aging artist is pursued by a
Native American demon. The scariest? “Daddy Longlegs of the Evening”, which
will give anyone with arachnophobia the creeps. Note: the creature is not just
a spider. It’s far, far worse than that.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
The Devil of Echo Lake, by Douglas Wynne. JournalStone, 2012
Billy Moon is a rock star, an idol to Goths around the world
in the late 1990s. The producer who made him a star, Trevor Rail, holds a
contract that requires Moon to create one more album for him. Rail is a creepy
dude that no one likes and who scares most people. Moon thinks Rail might just
be the devil himself. And now Rail has called in his chip, and takes Moon to a
secluded compound in the mountains, with a studio in an old church, to force
him to write and record a new album in record time.
Moon is willing, but his mind is not all on the music. He’s
dealing with the sudden death of his father, and strange things are happening
in the church, which serves as Moon as living quarters as well as studio.
Legend has it the church is haunted, and it’s starting to look like it’s true. Rail
doesn’t believe it, though; he makes a point of telling others that Moon is
under stress and unbalanced. But Moon isn’t the only one seeing and hearing odd
things; Jake Campbell, fresh out of college assistant sound man, is witnessing
it, too, as well as the terror that is crazy man Rail.
This is very well done horror. Part psychological and part
supernatural, it isn’t until the end that the reader gets to see where the
boundaries of each are. Tension is sustained throughout the book, and the end
is unexpected. I hope this book gets picked up by Amazon and other distributors
so more people can enjoy it. Right now it seems to only be available from the
publisher, JournalStone http://journal-store.com/fiction/the-devil-of-echo-lake/
Coming to My Senses, by Alyssa Harad. Viking 2012
“Coming to My Senses” is a memoir of a short period of
author Harad’s life, covering the time between her discovery of perfume blogs
and shortly after her wedding. It is all about how perfume became not just an
interest, but a passion, and how it changed the way she thought about herself.
Harad was a scholarly, feminist free lance writer who hated
shopping and had no interest in feminine frills. Then she clicked by accident
into some perfume blogs and got hooked on the descriptions of scent- what the perfumes
contained, how they made the wearers feel. This struck a chord in her, and she
started to find out more about perfume, and started using it. For a long time
she kept her interest to herself, not wanting to be made fun of by serious
minded people. But as she started bringing the subject up, she was amazed to
discover that it was a love of many people- including those serious minded
ones.
But it wasn’t just an interest or hobby. Wearing perfume
started to change how she felt about herself. An elegant perfume made her want
to change out of her boring work-at-home clothes and into something prettier.
She started going to a gym, and feeling more in touch with her body, more
balanced. Ultimately, it made her decide, after living for years with someone,
that she wanted a girly wedding.
The book is a memoir, not a treatise on perfumes. It’s all
about her relationship with the scents and with herself, not about the perfumes
themselves, although she does write about a few of the perfumes and perfume
components- it would be hard to write about perfume without giving some
history. One thing that really disappointed me was that the author didn’t give
the names of many of the perfumes she talks about. It would be fun for a reader
to sniff perfumes and compare their reaction to what her’s was. And I really
want to know what is the name of the one that is honey based and makes her
husband follow her around the house?
Labels:
body image,
memoir,
nonfiction,
perfume,
scent,
self image
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Bring Up the Bodies, by Hilary Mantel. Henry Holt & Co, 2012
‘Bring Up the Bodies’ is the sequel to ‘Wolf Hall’, the
story of how Thomas Cromwell helped engineer King Henry VIII’s divorce from
Katherine of Aragon so he’d be free to marry Anne Boleyn. In ‘Bring Up the
Bodies’, we find Henry tiring of Anne, her continual demands and her inability
to deliver a live baby boy- the longed for heir to the kingdom. Cromwell must
now undo what he has helped Henry do, no matter the human cost, and fix it so
Henry can marry the next in his series of wives.
While many, many books have been written about the Henry
VIII and his wives, Mantel has approached the story from a different angle; in
both ‘Wolf Hall’ and ‘Bring Up the Bodies’, Mantel has taken the point of view
of Cromwell. Usually considered a horrible villain, Cromwell emerges here as
brilliant, hard working, capable of love and a servant to the king alone. Not
servant to the Boleyns, the Seymours, the queen that was, the foreign
ambassadors, the Pope; just the king and England. That is why he had so many enemies; he did
not care who was discommoded in his efforts to please the king and keep England
together. And pleasing Henry was not an easy job; Henry was monstrously
egotistical and his moods and loves were fickle. He could love and favor
someone one day and the next, after some poorly worded comment or even a lie
from someone else, that person could end up banished from the court, stripped
of their wealth or dead. And no matter how many times Henry changed his mind,
his ability to feel himself innocent of wrong doing is astonishing. No matter
what he said or did, it was always because he was deceived or bewitched, not
because he simply got tired of someone and wanted them gone. Yet, despite these
faults, he was also an intelligent and passionately curious man who cared about
running the country. He just happened to care about himself more.
Here is what makes Mantel’s writing rather brilliant;
despite the fact that you know what’s going to happen to Anne, there is still
an awful feeling of suspense. I found myself hoping that she and the men
executed with her would find a way out!
While this is a stand alone novel, it is probably best
appreciated read after ‘Wolf Hall’ unless you are already familiar with the politics
of the time and the story of Henry, Katherine of Aragon and Anne. And even if
you are, seeing the story from Cromwell’s point of view casts a different light
on it. This isn’t ‘The Tudors’ where lust reigns supreme; this is about
political machinations and spinning spider webs of doom around those the king
wishes to rid himself of. It’s about a man who accumulated much wealth, but
didn’t have the time to enjoy it because his master wanted him available 24/7. Mantel
manages to make Cromwell a human, but not a likable one. The writing is rich
and creates the Tudor world before our eyes without getting bogged down in
description.
Labels:
Anne Boleyn,
Henry VIII,
historical fiction,
Thomas Cromwell
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Sleeping in Flame, by Jonathan Carroll. Tom Doherty Associates, 1988
Walker Easterling, divorced American screenwriter living in Vienna,
meets the woman of his dreams, Maris York. Their attraction is immediate and
goes far beyond physicality; they are connected on a deep level from the first
minute of meeting. At the same time, some strange things start happening. Not
just strange- things that should be impossible. But in this world of Carroll’s,
magic is not only possible, but not even very remarkable. What alarms Walker
and Maris is that bad things start happening, too. A friend knows a shaman,
though, who can probably help Walker.
A southern Californian, TV and sandwich obsessed shaman with a bulldog and a
pot-bellied pig for companions.
It soon becomes obvious that Walker
has lived previous lives, and that his father may be at the heart of his
troubles. An adopted child, Walker doesn’t know who is biological father is.
Finding out turns out to be key to saving his life and the lives of those he
loves. And not only does Walker
discover that not just magic and reincarnation are real, but some fairy tales
are, too.
The book is modern magic, old fairy tales brought into the
late 20th century. Walker
is the knight on a quest, and Maris is the enchanted princess he must save.
It’s a lovely, fun story to read, right up to the end. The end is good- it’s
fairly unique- but it comes off as rushed, as though Carroll ran out of time to
finish. All the pieces are there at the ending, really, but they’re just thrown
together. Still, that isn’t enough to make me call it a bad book. Just not a
perfect one.
Labels:
fairy tales,
fantasy,
fiction,
magical realism
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
John Saturnall’s Feast, by Lawrence Norfolk. Grove Press, 2012
‘John Saturnall’s Feast’ is set near the start of the
English Civil War. John is the child of a woman who is a sort of outcast; an
herbalist and midwife, she lives on the outskirts of the village and doesn’t go
to church. Of course this means she is thought of as a witch. When a plague
runs through the village, she is blamed and they are run out of town. They take
up living in a deserted house in the woods, living on late season fruit and
chestnuts. She is dying, of both starvation and disease, but before she dies,
she teaches John to read from a book about a strange feast held in Buccla’s
Wood. It encompasses every form of food; fish, fowl, vegetables, sweets,
mammals are all included, and the feast is for everyone, not just the rich as
is the way of the land at the time. At her wish, after her death, he is taken
to Buckland Manor where he is put to work in the vast kitchens.
John’s life changes totally. Used to being alone or with
only a couple of people, he is now constantly pressed by people on all sides.
He works every minute of the long day and falls directly into a sleep that
never seems to be long enough. Still, given the time and place, it’s a good
situation. Food is abundant here, he’s living inside, and after awhile he gets
to learn cooking. He’s in a better place than a lot of people.
This is primarily a love story; a love that crosses classes
and is forbidden- preserving estates and titles takes precedence over love.
It’s also an adventure story; the kitchen staff marched with the lord of the
manor when he went to war supporting King Charles, and they were expected to fight
with the soldiers. I liked the characters. They are not likable all the time;
they do stupid, human, things sometimes. But, in the end, it’s a story about
food.
We might think that cooking back in those days was fairly
primitive, but it wasn’t. It was actually very sophisticated. One of the
culinary trends back then was to create dishes that looked like something else
– parts of animals and birds sewn together to create a mythical beast, meat in
pastry to look like a bird, sugar creations in the shape of just about
anything. Cooks vied to create the most elaborate and surprising dishes- a sort
of Iron Chef, Stuarts edition. Most of the year, the diet was rich and varied;
the manor supplied fish from its own ponds, poultry, eggs, dairy products,
pork, honey, wheat, fruit and vegetables (they did eat their ‘sallets’) and
much was stored for winter. A stable trade system meant the upper classes
enjoyed sugar and spices. The sheer amount of person power it took to feed a
manor was incredible- most workers were specialists, turning the spits in the
kitchen, washing the endless stream of dirty dishes, plucking fowl, managing
the fish ponds, the dove cote, the hen houses, the spice room, making the
salads, cutting up the meat… and all those people had to be fed, too. You can
see how a book can be created around a kitchen of the era! The food, and John’s
relationship to it and how he uses it to speak to the lady of the manor, is
lovingly detailed, much more so, really, than the people.
Food was not always plentiful, however. It was easy to
starve back then. The stark difference between the incredible plenty of the
start of the story versus what they have to deal with when the Roundhead
soldiers steal the food from the manor and destroy what they cannot take shows
how dramatically life can change. John falls back on how he and his mother
lived in the woods, and on what he learned from the book of the Feast. He is
the hero of the tale, for all the people living on the manor.
What the Feast was is never made clear. It’s like a myth of
a Golden Age, when all were equals and food was plentiful. Was it a pagan
community that had existed in the woods before Christians arrived? Was it a
myth to comfort the reader, a dream to hold onto? Did it have a direct bearing
on John’s ancestors? Was the book a semi-magical teaching aid that allowed John
to excel in the manor kitchens later? In the end, it doesn’t matter. It allowed
John to hold on and to save the manor.
‘John Saturnall’s Feast’ is a story of cycles and renewals, both
earthly as the wheel of the year turns and spiritually, as human hope and
happiness comes up again and again.
Labels:
historical fiction,
myth,
Reformation,
Stuarts
Thursday, September 6, 2012
The Devil in Silver, by Victor LaValle. Spiegel & Grau, 2012
Pepper, a guy who is a bit of a trouble maker but harmless
is put into a psychiatric hospital even though he is not mentally ill. That’s
bad enough, but there is a monster that roams the halls at night and kills
inmates. Sounds like a cross between ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ and a
Stephen King novel. That was enough to convince me to read it. I expected a
creepy story; I did not expect a book about large themes that engaged the
heart. But that is what this novel is.
Pepper is taken to the psychiatric ward of New Hyde, a
grossly under funded New York city
hospital, because he took a swing at three plainclothes policemen in the
process of trying to scare off the stalker ex-husband of his neighbor. Because
it’s the end of shift, and they won’t get paid overtime for doing paperwork,
they dump him for a 72 hour psychiatric hold, which requires only a few minutes
of their time. This by itself would be the stuff of a Kafka story, but things
rapidly get much, much worse. Pretty soon Pepper has been drugged (Haldol, an
antipsychotic, and lithium, a mood stabilizer, given without a diagnosis or
even an indication of his needing them), put in restraints for days, given
tranquilizers so heavy duty he has no recollection of time passed, and visited
by the monster. New Hyde isn’t a place where patients get treatment. It’s a
place where they are warehoused. Few walk out the door. Everyone is drugged
into submission. If the drugs don’t take the spirit out of an inmate there, the
boredom will- their sole source of entertainment is a single TV set. There are
no activities and the food is nearly inedible. Things couldn’t get much worse,
could they? Hold on to that thought.
A monstrous Minotaur stalks the halls at night. It’s real;
the staff sees it, too. In the process of discovering its secret, Pepper will
have to make his way through a labyrinth, without a ball of string to help him
find his way back. Pepper will also have to learn a lot about himself and grow
up, going from somewhat narcissistic doofus to a caring person who thinks of
others. The story is as much about people, relationships, race, society, and
cruelty as it is about horror.
The novel is gripping, although it has some oddities. The
omniscient narrator frequently breaks the 4th wall, speaking to the
reader directly and inserting rants about society that I thought would have
been better shown to us than hitting us over the head with them- in fact, the
story itself pretty well shows them to us anyway. In a way, those interludes
are amusing, but they do break the mood. The end left me with questions about
how the revealed monster could have done the things it did. But these are minor
quibbles; the book is an excellent blend of horror and literary fiction.
Labels:
horror,
involuntary institutionalization,
mental hospital,
power,
psychiatric hospital,
race
Ascending Peculiarity: Edward Gorey on Edward Gorey, Interviews Selected and Edited by Karen Wilkin. Harcourt 2001
This is a sort of mini-autobiography of artist/writer Edward
Gorey (1925-2000), presented through the medium of interviews that took place
over the years from 1973 to 1999. Edward Gorey has- and has had, for many
years- a cult following for his slightly skewed, morbid but funny books.
Working almost exclusively in pen and ink, his drawings most often present a
late Victorian or Edwardian setting, frequently drawn with lush detail-
particularly the backgrounds- where something is just off. Gardens
contain plants that eat people; strange looking guests appear uninvited, people
die off constantly. But Gorey was not just interesting for his work; he was a
bona fide eccentric, dressing in sneakers, ankle length fur coats, and lots of
chunky jewelry. And, of course, his cats. He loved his cats above all things,
allowing them to do their will unimpeded, and left his estate to animal
charities.
Telling a person’s life through interviews results in being
able to see what Gorey thought about from various times in his life. A lot of
things didn’t change; his voracious appetite for reading, his lack of need for
human contact, his artistic style. Some things did; he moved away from New
York City permanently because the one thing that held
him there, the ballet, evolved into something he no longer cared for.
Because interviewers tend to ask the same questions as each
other, there is a lot of repetition in the book. Throughout the years, he tends
to answer them the same way every time. It would have been hard to edit all the
repetitions out, and it’s easy enough to skim past those sections. But even
with the repetitions, each interview reveals something just a little different
about Gorey. The book has illustrations from his various works scattered
throughout. It’s a fun, interesting book that’s fast to read.
Labels:
art,
artistic process,
biography,
Edward Gory,
interviews
The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Four, edited by Ellen Datlow. Night Shade Books, 2012
This is as good a collection of horror as you’re going to
get. The book starts with Stephen King and ends with Peter Straub, and the
authors in between are no slouches, either. There was only one story I didn’t
like (Straub’s ‘The Ballad of Ballard and Sandrine’) and that’s not because
it’s a bad story; it’s just not a style I care for.
The stories are all over the map in terms of style; Margo
Lanagan’s ‘Mulberry Boys’ is set in a sort of alternate world, a sort of
fantasy/horror cross; Littlewood’s ‘Black Feathers’ rather reminded me of
Bradbury; Laird Barron’s story put me in mind of Algernon Blackwood and I don’t
think that was just because the name of the story is ‘Blackwood’s Baby’. Some
are set in cities; some in the remote woods. This collection shows us horror in
every setting. The one that I found the most unsettling was ‘The Moraine’ by
Simon Bestwick, where a husband and wife get trapped on a mountainside by heavy
fog, only to discover that it’s not just the exposure to cold they need to
worry about. The horror in that one comes from a direction that one would never
think of and, yes, we do have areas of moraine on the hill on the back of the property…
It’s not often I find an anthology that is so even in
quality all the way through. I highly recommend this one!
The Secret of Chanel No. 5: The Intimate History of the World’s Most Famous Perfume, Tilar J. Mazzeo. HarperCollins, 2010
Chanel No. 5 is the world’s best selling perfume- and has
been for decades. It’s been so popular for so long, in fact, that it’s actually
become a sort of cultural icon- a symbol of luxury, capable of being recognized
by the bottle shape, even by those who have never smelled the juice inside.
This book is the ‘biography’ of No. 5.
I have a great interest in perfume, so I had high hopes for
this book. As I made my way through it, though, I kept feeling like I’d read it
before. I hadn’t, but I had read a biography of Coco Chanel a number of years
ago. Unlike many modern fragrances which are created by committee (independent
niche perfumes excepted), the story of No. 5 is closely tied to Chanel’s life. The
majority of the story of No. 5 IS the story of Gabrielle ‘Coco’
Chanel. It had great personal meaning for her; supposedly it combined scents
from her past- rich flowers from around the convent school she grew up in,
clean sheets, and the sweaty body of her great love, Boy Capel.
There are a great many myths out there about No. 5, and this
book lays them to rest. It wasn’t the first perfume to use synthetic
ingredients- not by a long shot. It wasn’t the first perfume to use aldehydes.
And it wasn’t even a new perfume- it was a remake of one made for Russian
royalty.
It’s an interesting story, how this one fragrance has held
up all these years, despite business infighting, world wars, lack of (and even
disappearance of) raw materials, terrible decisions, and changing tastes. But
the book is repetitious- the author repeats the same facts chapter after
chapter. It would have been a much better book had it been shorter. And it
really never does discover the final secret- what is it about this scent that
has made it survive so well?
Park Lane, by Francis Osborne. Vintage Books, 2012
This book follows two women who live in a mansion on Park
Lane: Bea, the single, recently jilted, daughter
who still lives at home, and Grace, working as a housemaid despite her
secretarial training because her lower class, northern accent bars her from London
office work. Both Grace and Bea have secrets; Grace has told her family that
she’s doing respectable office work rather than being a maid; Bea is joining her
aunt as a follower of suffragette Emmeline Pankhurst, while Bea’s mother has
long supported the non-violent suffragists. Bea and Grace are at the opposite
ends of the social hierarchy in the house- and personality. Bea is an
excitement junkie; loving fast cars and motorcycles, the thrilling fear at the
suffragette rallies, fast ambulance driving practically on the front, and
meeting a man who is ‘not of her class’. Grace seeks safety and worries
constantly about not living up to family expectations.
Divided into years, the story covers 1914 to 1923 (with a
gap between 1918 and 1923). This is a tumultuous age in England;
WW I, socialism and the women’s suffrage movement all changed the lives of rich
and poor alike. There is violence at the suffragette rallies, incredible loss
of life in the trenches of WW I, post traumatic stress for both men and women
(who drive ambulances in the war zones and nurse the torn up men), class
differences come to mean a *little* less, and women gain more freedom well
before they get the vote.
I enjoyed the book- I find the era fascinating (while a fan
of Downton, I first was introduced to the era when PBS ran ‘The Forsyte Saga’
way back around 1970) and Osborne knows the time intimately- she had to, to
write the brilliant biography ‘The Bolter’- and she has a great power of
description. But I feel the book could have been better. Bea comes off as
rather hard and it’s difficult to sympathize with her. Grace likable enough,
but passages about things she goes through that should make us terrified for
her are a bit flat. One character who connects the two women, Grace’s brother
Michael, seems like he was created only to connect them- he’s introduced as a
socialist, a budding writer, but he doesn’t really do anything with it. A
subplot about sneaking books out of the house to him starts out extremely tense
but is allowed to peter out to nothing. Because of these faults, I’m afraid I
can only give the book four stars. But remember that this is Osborne’s first
fiction book- when that’s taken into consideration, it’s pretty great.
Labels:
class,
Edwardian age,
historical fiction,
London,
women's suffereage,
WW 1
The Broken Lands, by Kate Milford. Clarion Books, 2012
This book is set in an alternate history New
York of 1877 and populated with a diverse and
appealing cast of characters. It’s a fantasy, a battle of good vs. evil, and a
coming of age tale. And it’s magical. It captured me almost instantly.
A force of evil is coming to New York,
and his advance troops- a couple of supernatural beings- are planning on
delivering the city to him. But they aren’t the only supernatural beings in the
city, and when some of them get wind of the plot, a small group forms to stop
them. It’s a diverse group: people with magical powers, teen aged orphans, and
a journalist who actually existed, Ambrose Bierce. The teenagers risk their
lives numerous times and have a huge learning curve to develop the skills that
will allow them to take on the evil beings, but while they question their
ability to do the job (and their sanity for trying it), they persevere. It’s a
large cast of characters, but the main ones are Sam, a 15 year old card sharp,
and Jinn, a young maker of explosives who travels with a fireworks show.
Milford tackles
–lightly- some of the social issues of the day that would have affected the
characters, like race and class prejudice. Jinn is a Chinese girl, Sam is poor,
one character is black and poor, and one half black- but thankfully she has
money. Not that that protects her entirely from the nastiness of bigots. There
is also the issue of how poor Chinese girls could end up treated when there was
no one to protect them, feet bound and used as slaves. These things are treated
casually and not much is made of them -it’s just how it was then – but it’s
there. The author has not tried to clean up the world of 1877 and make it look
like 2012, and I think that’s a very good thing.
The characters are appealing and well done, and the plot is
compelling, but Milford’s genius is
in description. The places come alive with sounds, textures and smells. The
magic becomes real in her hands, and I was reluctant to leave her world when
the book ended.
Labels:
alternate history,
fantasy,
magic,
race,
young adult
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