Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
OtherRealms Issue 23 Part 05
Electronic OtherRealms #23
Winter, 1989
Part 5
Copyright 1989 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.
OtherRealms may not be reproduced without written
permission from Chuq Von Rospach. The electronic
edition may be distributed only if the return address,
copyrights and author credits remain intact.
No article may be reprinted or re-used in any way
without the permission of the author.
All rights to material published in OtherRealms
hereby revert to the original author.
The Agony Colum
Rick Kleffel
Copyright 1989 by Rick Kleffel
The cringing virgin, the tortured beast, the psycho killer, the tainted
priest, the master vampire, the Satanic son, the town with a secret,
the impotent gun--this is what horror is made from....
These are the scary stereotypes of horror, the shredded scraps of skin
and muscle that are carelessly grafted to skeletal plots by Stephen
King wanna-be's, then packaged in glance-grabbing wrappers and aimed at
an unsuspecting audience. Monsters (vampires, werewolves, aliens) and
their victims (virgins, scientists, military madmen) should be fertile
ground for the invention of new stereotypes. Instead, they become
fertile ground for re-invention; everybody wants to do their version of
the vampire. Writers like Clive Barker and Anne Rice manage to make
something old seem new again. But in less competent hands, these
cliches become crutches. They allow the writer to be lazy. After all,
think of all the information that comes with the word vampire;
bloodsucking, shapechanging, undead, fangs.... But even the
less-than-literate serve their purpose. It is only in their territory
that new stereotypes are noticeable. In fact, the eighties have
presented us with a new monster, another carrion-fed cliche to haunt
readers of the future. Look closely at what you've been reading
recently, and you'll see him--the Vietnam Veteran--hero, monster,
victim--this decade's nominee for the Hall of Horror Stereotypes.
Koko [*****-]
Peter Straub
Doubleday, $19.95, 0-525-24660-6
Koko by Peter Straub is being billed as a thriller by a man who is
best-known for his horror novels. While it's true that the supernatural
is missing from Koko, few who finish this novel will walk away unaware
that this is yet another horror novel, one in which the monster is war
and the men who enjoy it. In this novel, the Vietnam veterans are given
the treatment they (or any other "group") deserve; they are first and
foremost people, with jobs to keep them busy during the day and friends
and family to keep them company at night.
Koko's ingenious plot draws together four disparate members of a
platoon fifteen years after the war, when one of them discovers that a
string of serial killings in the Orient can only be the work of someone
who was once a member of their fighting unit. Despite an intricately
constructed exposition, the novel is easily read, as the reader is
swept into the demonic, hallucinogenic world of the characters'
perceptions. These aren't the stock maladjusted malcontents, nor are
they hibernating supermen--they're ordinary people who have lived
through an extra-ordinarily horrifying experience. And, even though
supernatural events are absent, the feeling of pervading evil is very
much present. This combination of real and perceived evil make Koko
Straub's best book since Ghost Story--in many ways, better. In addition,
the Straub stories "Blue Rose" in "Cutting Edge" and "The Juniper Tree"
in Prime Evil, offer another glimpse of the characters in Koko. They
enhance the novel, but are not required reading. Complex and compelling,
Koko is at the forefront of today's realistic horror movement.
Monastery [**]
Patrick Whelan
Pocket Books, $3.95, 0-671-66187-6
At the other end of the spectrum is Monastery by Patrick Whelan, a
thoroughly pedestrian "Rambo versus Dracula" saga, set on a remote
island off the coast of Washington. Braille, our stoic veteran hero,
would make even Rambo look like wimp. Caught assassinating an aging
North Vietnamese general, he is tortured for months by the man's son.
This is the perfect preparation for his confrontation with Gregory, the
Ancient, a Master Vampire entombed on the island hundreds of years ago
by Secret Order of the Catholic Church. It's doubly surprising when
they become buddies in combat only because any surprise in this book is
itself surprising. This novel unveils a new stereotype while conforming
to the description of an existing stereotype--the artificial, cheesy
vampire novel, easily read, admirably absentminded, easily forgotten.
Necroscope [***+]
Brian Lumley
Tor, $3.95, 0-812-52166-8
Queen of The Damned [***+]
Anne Rice
Doubleday, $18.95
Cabal [****+]
Clive Barker
Doubleday, $17.95
Happily, in Necroscope, by Brian Lumley, Queen of the Damned by Anne
Rice and Cabal by Clive Barker, these big name horror writers fare
quite well in their encounters with the undead. The first is the
thoroughly enjoyable start of a "Trilogy of Terror!," but works well as
a self-contained novel. The premise, cleverly developed if not
completely original, is that Harry Keogh, a "necroscope," (one who can
talk to the dead) is recruited by England's rather advanced ESPionage
agency to help fight the bad Russians, in a sort of "spook versus
spook" battle. Dragosani, the Russian's star esper, is a necromancer
(one who rips apart the bodies of the dead to learn their secrets).
Much to his regret, he has made a deal with a particularly slimy,
science-fiction style vampire. Once you resign yourself to enjoy this
luridly-written novel, you'll find that it's like those rare "great" B
movies--a fast, fun time. The next one should be a real kick.
Then, when you're done slumming, you can turn to Anne Rice's Queen of
the Damned which completes her "Vampire Trilogy" and heralds the
beginning of the "Vampire Chronicles." For those who liked the first
two books, her sensual, evocative writing and grand Guignol plotting
remain firmly in place. Better yet, there's no cliff-hanger waiting at
the end this novel, and the finale is satisfyingly spectacular. The
only problem is the reader's memory, since this is really just the
second half of The Vampire Lestat. Artistic attempts to recapitulate
the action from that novel won't fill all the gaps in most reader's
memories. Soon enough, though, Rice's sensual vampires, Lestat and
company, start to feel like old, cultured, friends. Wisely choosing not
to self-destruct a bestselling series, Anne Rice does leave an option
open, frankly stating that more sequels are on the way. If you haven't
yet read the other books you have something to look forward to. On the
other hand, if you read The Vampire Lestat, then you've probably
already bought Queen of the Damned. In either case, you could do worse,
and you'd be hard put to find better.
In Cabal, Clive Barker introduces "The Nightkind," creatures who fit
squarely between the slime of Necroscope and the sensuality of Queen of
the Damned. Barker's writing is perhaps too artistic for hack'n'slash
fans, and too gritty for the lace-lovers of Rice's vampires, but his
fans will be ecstatic over Cabal, which combines the visceral horror of
Books of Blood with the fantasy elements of Weaveworld. As a bonus,
those who have not yet managed to sniff out an imported copy of Books
of Blood, Volume 6, are given the contents of that collection in
addition to this short novel. Barker's ability to write poetic prose
describing extreme violence has deservedly earned him the "New
[Stephen] King of Horror" badge. While there are some nagging doubts
about descriptions that sound suspiciously like directions for special
effects make-up, in the end this shapes up to be yet another remarkable
contribution to the Barker's growing catalogue.
City Jitters [****+]
Christopher Fowler
Dell Publishing, $3.50, 0-440-20115-2
More City Jitters [****+]
Christopher Fowler
Dell Publishing, $3.50, 0-440-20146-2
Blood and Water [****]
Patrick McGrath
Poseidon Press, $15.95
The Selected Stories of
Charles Beaumont [****]
Roger Anker
Dark Harvest Press, $19.95
With the spectacular success of Barker's Books of Blood, the market for
horror anthologies has exploded, as publishers begin to line up their
candidates for "the next Clive Barker." While no writers with Barker's
eye for poetry and violence have yet surfaced, a number of writers with
similar promise but different sensibilities have made their mark.
Patrick McGrath, in Blood and Water and Christopher Fowler, in City
Jitters and More City Jitters, each establish themselves as possible
heirs to their own throne, while Selected Stories of Charles Beaumont
from Dark Harvest cements this late writer's place amongst the great
influential writers of horror.
The most unusual of these collections is McGrath's Blood and Water.
This writer, most of whose pieces were published in "literary"
magazines, covers a wide range of genres, from (almost) mystery to
(nearly) science fiction, but the gothic sense of justice and
retribution are most reminiscent of Poe. Very entertaining, tainted by
a pitch-black sense of humor, Blood and Water is highly recommended to
those looking for something different but not too strange. Christopher
Fowler's City Jitters and More City Jitters also encompass a wide range
of genres, but exhibit a "Twilight Zone-like" sense of revenge and the
plot twist. The prose is excellent, the stories are fun to read, and
the segues between the pieces are also enjoyable. Like Barker's Books
of Blood, these books were first published as British paperbacks by
Sphere Books, and are now available in the US from Dell Paperbacks--a
major debut in a minor arena. And let us not take the name of the
"Twilight Zone" in vain without mentioning the must-buy Selected
Stories of Charles Beaumont, a writer whose name will be familiar to
viewers of that series as the author/and or screenwriter of 22 of the
most famous episodes. Beaumont's skill as prose writer alone would make
the trip worthwhile, but the introductions by editor Roger Anker, and
Dennis Etchison, Ray Bradbury, Robert Bloch, Roger Corman and others,
tell the uniquely involving story of this writer's brief, tragic life.
Top this off with the evocative black and white illustrations of Peter
Scanlon and you have the best effort yet by Dark Harvest press, whose
products seem to be getting better and better.
Fine Frights [*****-]
Ramsey Campbell
Tor $3.95, 0-812-51670-2
The Best of The Horror Show:
An Adventure in Terror [*****]
David B. Silva
2 AM Publications, $9.95, 0-937491-05-5
Omnibus anthologies are often a hit-and-miss proposition--some stories
are good, some are filler, and some are repeats from other collections.
Two anthologies that buck this trend are Ramsey Campbell's Fine
Frights: Stories That Scared Me and The Best of the Horror Show. Fine
Frights is a case of truth in packaging, with every story a great,
several unforgettables, and nary a familiar title in the bunch.
"Child's Play" by Villy Sorenson tops the unforgettables, followed
closely by Bob Shaw's "Cutting Down," David Case's "The War is Over"
and Karl Edward Wagner's "More Sinned Against." Each of these stories
will leave the reader stunned for a couple of hours after finishing
them. Other notables include a horror story by Philip K. Dick, "Upon
the Dull Earth," that ranks as one of his best in any genre, and Thomas
Ligotti's very poetic and disturbing "The Greater Festival of Masks."
The Best of The Horror Show, edited by David B. Silva, features Robert
R. McCammon, Ramsey Campbell, Steve Rasnic Tem and others in short to
short-short stories that have never been seen outside of the pages of
this great magazine. The length, the variety, and the uniformly high
quality of these stories make this a collection no horror fan should
miss. If you're looking for swift, deadly fun, either of these
anthologies is guaranteed to satisfy.
The Fifth Child [****+]
Doris Lessing
Doubleday, $15.95
Hospital of the Transfiguration [*****-]
Stanislaw Lem
Harcourt, Brace Jovanovich, $17.95
One would not expect to see either Doris Lessing or Stanislaw Lem
reviewed in a horror column. Both of these writer/philosophers are
known for their forays into densely intellectual SF, but strictly
speaking, both The Fifth Child and Hospital of the Transfiguration are
not genre fiction. They are finely crafted, mainstream novels that lead
the reader into a realistic world of emotional terror. In these books,
the writers shed their philosophers' shoes, and create easily-read
works of art.
Doris Lessing's The Fifth Child is a stripped down look at family life
and economic distress in modern day England. The protagonists, Harriet
and David, rebel against the hip rebellion of the late sixties,
deciding instead to marry young, buy a big house and have large, happy
family--until the birth of Ben, the fifth child. For despite the
doctor's assurances, despite what her friends and family say, Harriet
is certain that he is not completely human. Ben soon becomes a force
that helps to tear apart a family already under assault by economic
pressures and criticism for their unpopular decision. Lessing
theorizes that trolls, gnomes, and evil elves are not fairy tales, but
the result of a "throwback gene" that gives birth to what we would now
call "born criminals." The unsettling alternatives facing the parents
of these creatures are institutionalization or responsibility for the
child. There are no stereotypes of horror here--no evil changelings,
no elves--but freedom of choice and the responsibility it entails are
certainly terrifying enough.
Hospital of the Transfiguration is Stanislaw Lem's first novel, a semi-
autobiographical work that is not SF. Because of this, it seemed almost
certain to be an inferior work. However, this novel ranks with the best
of his SF, and includes many of the same features that make his SF so
appealing--the dark humor, the philosophical speculations, and the
observations of characters so real that despite cultural differences,
they seem like people you know or might meet. How is this a horror
novel? It's set in 1939, in Poland, shortly after the Nazi invasion.
The protagonist is a doctor who takes up residence in an insane asylum
to avoid the spectre of war. Now, if the state of brain surgery in 1939
is not enough to qualify this book for the horror genre, then Nazi
executions of helpless inmates certainly are. Needless to say, this
book isn't going to be competition for King, Barker, and Straub--but
it's every bit as scary.
