If one of the functions of horror fiction is to hold a mirror up to society, to reflect real life fears and concerns, then right now must feel like a literary feeding frenzy for purveyors of the weird with the global recession rumbling on and a set of austerity measures put in place by a group of millionaires suffering from the unfortunate delusion that they know what's best for everyone. Perhaps the best line of fiction to arise from the present climate is David Cameron's claim that "we're all in this together", the utter-bullshitness of which must place it high in the list of all-time How Stupid Do You Think We Are? quotations, (or the Clarkson List as it's coming to be known), but now we have Horror Uncut from Gray Friar Press which contains seventeen stories of "social insecurity and economic unease" which provides a much higher quality of fantasy writing altogether.
The collection is edited by Tom Johnstone who completed the book after the tragic death of its co-editor Joel Lane and who provides a thoughtful and insightful afterword to the stories.
Specific policies provide the inspiration for many of the stories, including Ptichka by Laura Lauro, A Simple Matter of Space by John Forth and The Ghost at the Feast by Alison Littlewood, the latter the only story in the collection to directly feature the politicians responsible in a story which examines the relationship between MP and constituent.
As an employee of the NHS I'm all too aware of just how "safe" the institution is in the hands of the present government and the threat of privatisation and its general mismanagement provide the basis for David Williams' The Procedure (which unfortunately I felt got the tone wrong and suffered from a twist that was obvious early on) and Joel Lane's A Cry for Help which opens the collection with perfectly pitched, biting satire. Funding - or lack of - for mental health services is the subject of one of the best stories in the collection, Thana Niveau's No History of Violence which ends the book on a truly chilling note.
Supernatural themes are relatively scarce for a book of horror stories but are employed most effectively in Gary McMahon's Only Bleeding (whose title gives a hint as to which metaphor is put to use in it) and Simon Bestwick's The Battering Stone, another story of his to feature the character of Paul Hearn and which hints at ancient forces feeding off misery and austerity.
Capitalism rears its ugly, greedy head in Priya Sharma's The Ballad of Boomtown and Stephen Hampton's The Sun Trap in which the family unit becomes allegory for the banking crisis in a story that's probably a little too predictable and which suffers from a few too info-dumps.
Exploitation is the keynote of Anna Taborska's The Lemmy/Trump Test, David Turnbull's The Privelige Card and another trademark John Llewellyn Probert piece The Lucky Ones. The exploitation is of the poor, by the rich - a scenario that forms the backdrop to John Howard's Falling Into Stone in which metaphor and harsh realism mix together perfectly.
A more subtle, tangential approach to the effects of the austerity measures on individuals is exhibited in Roseanne Rabinowitz's Pieces of Ourselves and Stephen Bacon's The Devil's Only Friend, affecting ghost stories both.
Optimism of a sort is provided by Andrew Hook's The Opaque District which is set in a future where queuing for food is the norm and where protagonist Jay is offered a glimpse - a promise - of somewhere better... Better times ahead then? Maybe not.
Horror Uncut may not change minds or influence policy but it's an excellent collection of stories that do have important things to say. It has to be said it's unlikely to appeal to Daily Mail readers - which is about as high a compliment as I can pay it.
Highly recommended.
Showing posts with label Gray Friar Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gray Friar Press. Show all posts
Thursday, 9 October 2014
Tuesday, 15 October 2013
Monsters in the Heart.
Stephen Volk's versatility as a writer has perhaps never been better demonstrated than by two of his stories published this year. This is the writer behind the elegiac, moving tribute to Peter Cushing that was Whitstable and also the masterclass in gross-out, the outrageous Arse Licker. Both were - for very different reasons - brilliant pieces of writing so it was with much anticipation that I looked forward to the release of his latest collection of stories, Monsters in the Heart from Gray Friar Press. There are fifteen stories in the collection, two of which are brand new and not previously published.
The first story is After the Ape which I'd already encountered in the Never Again anthology. I was blown away by it then, by its originality and imagination and was similarly affected on this second reading. Centering around events after the fall of King Kong from the Empire State Building it merges real life horror (and political comment) with iconic fictional characters to produce a - frankly - stunning piece of writing.
The death of another fictional icon is the starting point for Hounded another highly imaginative piece using the character of Dr Watson, here attending a seance after the death of Holmes and inadvertently releasing something terrible in the process (the title of the story providing a clue as to what that might be...)
There is much variety within the fifteen stories, in style and content. Some read like fables (Swell Head, Fear) whilst others touch on the surreal (Easter, Air Baby). There are "real" monsters, Monster Boy is an affectionate tribute to those created by the movies whilst Appeal For Witnesses updates an ancient mythology into a police procedural that put me in mind of some of Joel Lane's stories. In White Butterflies and Notre Dame the monsters are all too human, whether through violence and aggression or religious intolerance.
Who Dies Best provides a satirical look at the movie making business with a novel approach to filming death scenes whilst the immensely disturbing In The Colosseum uses inner city violence and voyeurism to deliver a blistering attack on the current state of TV broadcasting.
Pied a Terre is a ghost story but ironically is the one I enjoyed the least. In his notes, Stephen acknowledges the risks he took in writing the story, that offence could be taken. I wasn't offended but did feel slightly uncomfortable reading it. Good horror should make the reader uneasy, just not like this...
The Hair is a good old fashioned horror yarn, a tale of voodoo rituals leading to a conclusion that's truly horrible. And which, when you think about it a wee bit more, becomes even more horrible.
A Paper Tissue is possibly the least overtly horrific story in the book but which for me was the highlight of the collection. There's nothing supernatural in this tale of a couple holidaying in Italy but the writing is superb, a perfect description of a relationship that's failing until a chance encounter changes everything. The conclusion of the story is truly unsettling - subtle but deeply disturbing.
Monsters in the Heart is a marvellous collection. Imaginative, intelligent writing from a master craftsman. Highly recommended.
The first story is After the Ape which I'd already encountered in the Never Again anthology. I was blown away by it then, by its originality and imagination and was similarly affected on this second reading. Centering around events after the fall of King Kong from the Empire State Building it merges real life horror (and political comment) with iconic fictional characters to produce a - frankly - stunning piece of writing.
The death of another fictional icon is the starting point for Hounded another highly imaginative piece using the character of Dr Watson, here attending a seance after the death of Holmes and inadvertently releasing something terrible in the process (the title of the story providing a clue as to what that might be...)
There is much variety within the fifteen stories, in style and content. Some read like fables (Swell Head, Fear) whilst others touch on the surreal (Easter, Air Baby). There are "real" monsters, Monster Boy is an affectionate tribute to those created by the movies whilst Appeal For Witnesses updates an ancient mythology into a police procedural that put me in mind of some of Joel Lane's stories. In White Butterflies and Notre Dame the monsters are all too human, whether through violence and aggression or religious intolerance.
Who Dies Best provides a satirical look at the movie making business with a novel approach to filming death scenes whilst the immensely disturbing In The Colosseum uses inner city violence and voyeurism to deliver a blistering attack on the current state of TV broadcasting.
Pied a Terre is a ghost story but ironically is the one I enjoyed the least. In his notes, Stephen acknowledges the risks he took in writing the story, that offence could be taken. I wasn't offended but did feel slightly uncomfortable reading it. Good horror should make the reader uneasy, just not like this...
The Hair is a good old fashioned horror yarn, a tale of voodoo rituals leading to a conclusion that's truly horrible. And which, when you think about it a wee bit more, becomes even more horrible.
A Paper Tissue is possibly the least overtly horrific story in the book but which for me was the highlight of the collection. There's nothing supernatural in this tale of a couple holidaying in Italy but the writing is superb, a perfect description of a relationship that's failing until a chance encounter changes everything. The conclusion of the story is truly unsettling - subtle but deeply disturbing.
Monsters in the Heart is a marvellous collection. Imaginative, intelligent writing from a master craftsman. Highly recommended.
Monday, 5 August 2013
Differently There.
Differently There is a new novella from John Llewellyn Probert and is published by Gray Friar Press. It tells the story of Paul Webster, admitted to hospital on the night prior to his operation to remove a cancerous tumour. The nature and location of the lesion mean that the operation is a risky one, the outcome uncertain and it's this enforced confrontation with his own mortality that provides the context for the story which unfolds.Anyone familiar with John will know that he has faced a similar situation himself recently and this experience obviously informs the writing which, as expected, is a joy to read. The subject matter means that this is indeed something different from John, a more contemplative, melancholic piece but in so being, proves just how good a writer he is, whatever the style or theme of the story. There is a touch of whimsy at the beginning of the tale, with descriptions of the mundanity of the room in which Paul finds himself and the furniture therein. It's actually a very effective device and it was nice to see it reprised at the story's conclusion.
The novella is written in the present tense which works beautifully and is entirely appropriate given the storyline. As Paul drifts in and out of consciousness, he dreams of past experiences, gradually realising as the night progresses that there is a significance attached to them and also that there is something more to them than merely reminiscence. The memories he has are subtly altered, at first it seems by his love of fantasy and horror somehow merging into them but in reality by something a lot more sinister.
To describe more would be to give away too much but the truth of what is really happening is slowly revealed and leads to a moment of decision that is the most important of Paul's life.
Differently There is an exploration of how the decisions we make, the memories we collect influence our lives and make us who we are. It's about the mistakes we make and how we respond to them. It's about optimism and, dare I say it, the human spirit. It's a love story - or, if I may be so bold - a love letter. John's own love of horror and science fiction shines through and it's significant that special mention is given to Alfred Bester's The Demolished Man.
It's a fabulous piece of writing - I use the word in its most literal sense as well as its more colloquial. There's a moral for sure but it's written with so much style that it's nowhere near preachy. It's ironic that a story whose subject matter is death and mortality is actually such a life-affirming piece of writing. I had goosebumps when I finished reading Differently There - and yes, I had to wipe away a little moisture from my eye. (I think the bloke sitting next to me on the train believed me when I said I had some grit in it). It pretty much goes without saying that I recommend it most highly.
Monday, 15 July 2013
The Condemned.
The Condemned is a collection of six novellas by Simon Bestwick and is published by Gray Friar Press. These aren't new stories - the oldest dates back to 2001 and the most recent is from 2010 - but they were all new to me and, given my admiration of Simon's other work, it was a collection I was very much looking forward to reading.World War One is a bit of a fixation for me so you can imagine my delight at discovering the first of the stories, Dark Earth, used those events as its backdrop, a first person narration by Private Bill Sadler, giving testimony at his court martial for murder, mutiny and desertion (thereby the most literal of the "condemned" in this collection). The story doesn't hold back on its descriptions of the horrors of war (the concept of battlefields being made up mainly of human remains a particularly chilling one) and benefits from the use of first person - and the unreliability frequently associated with it - to present an alternative explanation as to why the madness was perpetuated. It's a barn-storming start to the collection with strongly drawn characters which manages to be thought-provoking amidst the blood and guts.
There's a change of tone in the second story The Narrows which tells of a small group of survivors escaping a nuclear blast by entering an underground canal system. Unlike the visceral horrors of the first story, this is more a psychological horror, expertly creating a palpable sense of claustrophobia as the group travel deeper and deeper into the underground darkness. It's unremittingly bleak and utterly encapsulates the feeling of despair felt by its protagonists, a story that slowly chips away at the reader, drawing them into the nightmare unfolding before them.
A Kiss of Old Thorns comes as some (relatively) light relief after the intensity of the first two stories, employing the trope of Arcane Ritual To Defend Against Ancient Evil to good effect, the arrival of an escaping gang of bank robbers disrupting the world of this story's guardian - to devastating effect. It's probably the most conventional horror story of the collection.
The Model returns to more psychological themes but has a wonderful creation in Ken, a shadowy figure who employs life models but who takes much more than just sketches from them. It's an atmospheric tale, hinting at its horrors rather than explicitly showing them.
And then there's The School House, the highlight of the collection for me and up there amongst the best stories I've ever read. Reading this story is like having a waking nightmare; it's full of disturbing images - and acts - and moves seamlessly between past and present, dreams and reality in a confusing, overwhelming and utterly terrifying way. In his story notes, Simon explains his attempts to "evoke the feel of someone going out of his mind as intensely as possible". He has succeeded admirably in this - The School House is one of the most powerful stories I've read and is a wonderful piece of writing.
The Condemned is - given the author - fairly free from political statement. There's comment on the futility of war in Dark Earth of course, and it's no coincidence I'm sure that the protagonists in many of the stories are homosexual, "condemned" not in their own eyes but by the attitudes of others. The last story in the collection however, Sleep Now in the Fire, grabs hold of political metaphor and symbology and has a whale of a time with them. The demonisation of the inhabitants of sink estates takes on a more literal meaning within this tale and I smiled when I saw that the "monsters" here were called BLUEboys and that the weapon used to combat them them were red stars (along with a socialist concept of co-operation and revolution). Not as much as I laughed when the location of the source of the evil was discovered mind you... There's even a nice little dig at religion. It's a rollercoaster ride of a story with its tongue firmly planted in its cheek and makes an entertaining conclusion to an excellent collection of stories.
I heartily recommend The Condemned, horror writing at its best.
Monday, 17 September 2012
Peel Back The Sky.
Peel Back The Sky is a collection of 21 stories by Stephen Bacon and is published by Gray Friar Press. I've been a fan of Stephen's writing since I first came across him a few years ago when I read his story The Strangled Garden in Tales From The Smoking Room published by Benedict J Jones (and which is reproduced in this volume). Since then I've tried to track down as much of his writing as possible and have been thoroughly impressed with everything I've found. It was great news then when Gray Friar announced this collection and I've been eagerly awaiting its arrival. There's always the possibility that anticipation can make you build something up too much and the reality is a letdown but this is absolutely not the case with Peel Back The Sky. This is, in all honesty, one of the best collections of short stories I've ever read. There are no weak stories in here, no filler, every one drips with quality.It's an eclectic mix, covering unambiguously supernatural elements as in With Black Foreboding Eyed (which gave me a warm glow of nostalgia, the mystery of Flannan Isle something I came across in my childhood) and Hour Of Departure, PA (including - yes, zombies), and Science Fiction. The strongest theme in the collection though is the darker side of human nature whether it be the spitefulness within a relationship described in The House Of Constant Shadow or from an external agent (a real monster) in Catch Me If I Fall, or the loss of innocence as a result of abuse in Persistence Of Vision and Daddy Giggles.
Even given the subject matter, these stories are two of the highlights of the book. Neither story is exploitative of its subject, are written in the precise, understated prose that is a feature of Stephen's work. The last lines of Persistence are a shock, changing your perception of everything that has gone before and are utterly heartbreaking. Daddy Giggles astounded me. This is one of the best stories I've ever read. On reading stories I often think "I wish I'd written that", after reading Daddy Giggles I thought "I wish I could write like that". Without resorting to hyperbole or melodramatic language, this story consumately portrays the impact of childhood abuse. The prose is matter of fact, undramatic but when I'd finished reading it I could feel the anger, the frustration of its protagonist Duffy. It's an incredible piece of writing, profound and moving.
I think it's these stories where Stephen's "voice" shines through but this collection shows his versatility as a writer, his ability to adopt different styles to complement the story he's telling. The Strangled Garden and A Solace Of Winter Rain are both written in the style of "Tales From A Gentlemen's Club" - and brilliantly so and there's an authentic period feel to The Toymaker Of Bremen and Cone Zero.
Perhaps the most stylised of all the stories is Girl Afraid which is presented as diary entries from a nine year old girl. It's a device that works brilliantly (and which, despite his reservations in the story notes at the end of the book, one which Stephen pulls off brilliantly) and makes the story another highlight. Terrible things happen in this story, made all the more terrible by the innocence of the narrator. The horror lies not just in the events that unfurl but in the fact that the reader knows more than the narrator. It's another story about loss of innocence, in this case the most horrifying aspect of that is that the narrator doesn't know it's happened. But she will...
I am - to quote Stephen King on Dan Simmons - in awe of Stephen Bacon. This is an outstanding collection of stories from a writer who has mastered the craft of writing and who deserves great success. I can't wait for his debut novel. Peel Back The Sky is a showcase for his versatility as a writer but it's capturing emotions that is his greatest strength. There's a melancholic edge to a lot of what he writes but hey, it's the sad songs that have the most impact and the same goes for stories. It's fitting that the title of one of the stories - I Am A Creation Of Now - is a line from the last song, on the last album by REM. Melancholy indeed...
Peel Back The Sky is highly recommended, great stories from a great writer.
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
It Knows Where You Live.
It Knows Where You Live is the latest collection from Gary McMahon, published by Gray Friar Press as a limited edition hardback with every book signed by, and containing a personal message from the author.
Given that all 100 copies of the book have sold, it's a bit redundant of me to make any recommendations (even more so than usual...) about the book but irrespective of that I wll say that this is an excellent collection from the consistently brilliant Mr McMahon.
The collection opens with Just Another Horror Story which is anything but, in reality a cleverly structured story touching on themes of paranoia and which creates a strong sense of claustrophobia with the protagonist trapped in a (seemingly) constant cycle of horror.
Hope is a Small Thing Dying in a Bin Behind an Abandoned Kebab Shop is one of the longest titles I've seen for a short story but also one of the best. (It may even be the quintessential Gary McMahon title?) It's another cleverly constructed tale told from the viewpoint of the most unreliable of narrators. In the first paragraph he tells us how it's the "normal things...[that] take on an unholy resonance" a sentiment reiterated with devastating effect at the end of the story.
Barcode is a topical story dealing as it does with the effects of the Global Recession (Part Two in a theatre near you soon!) and is disconcerting in the way that it actually ends on an optimistic note - not at all what I was expecting from the King of Bleak..!
Among the Leftovers is, I think, my favourite story in the collection. It's a strong concept for a story but one that works brilliantly. It's a short piece but still manages to be both scary and profound, having much to say about the human condition.
When One Door Closes is another story inspired (if that's the right word in this context) by the recession. It's almost a fable and underlines very effectively how it's the ordinary Joe - at the bottom of the financial food chain - who is the one to suffer the most from massive, world-wide failures. Unlike Barcode this has a much bleaker (and therefore, unfortunately probably more realistic) conclusion.
The Chair first appeared in Black Static and was, if memory serves, my first exposure to Gary McMahon. I remember it puzzled me at the time, I wasn't entirely sure what it was about but had my theories... Re-reading it now confirmed those theories but I have to say reading the next story The Table helped greatly in cementing them. You want ghostly furniture-based stories? Gary McMahon's your man. C.S. Lewis might already have grabbed the Wardrobe but the place Gary's furniture is a conduit to is no Narnia...
Nine Lives takes us back out of the supernatural realm with a harsh tale of infidelity and revenge. If you like cats, maybe give this one a miss...
Truth Hurts is a love story. Yup, that's right. It's a twisted love story of course with the title a real affliction for one of the protagonists. It's a metaphor made real (with horrific consequences) which, in a paradoxical way, somehow manges to reinforce its meaning.
Down is perhaps the most traditional scary story in the book. It's an effective little chiller that preys on our fears of being trapped in the dark. My love of the "Stumphole Cavern" monologue notwithstanding, I really liked this homage to RamseyCampbell.
Sounds Weird is possibly the bleakest story of the collection. We all have our "what if..?" moments, regrets over decisions made or not made that in hindsight we would have handled differently. The grass isn't always greener but sometimes not even having the opportunity to find out makes the reality we find ourselves in even harder to take. The reality the characters in this story find themselves in is about as bleak as it gets - and there's no-one better than Gary McMahon at describing that world.
The Row treads more traditional supernatural ground. Are places haunted - or is it the people who visit them? There's just the right amount of ambiguity in this tale of a row of houses with a dark history and their influence on the council surveyor visiting them prior to their planned demolition.
The Sheep is set on my home patch of Northumbria and begins with the all too accurate proclamation that "it always rains in Northumbria in the springtime". It surely does - when it's not snowing that is. There's a feel of Lars Von Trier's Antichrist about this one with a troubled couple seeking solace in nature and coming across... well, in the film a fox disembowels itself, turns to the camera and says "chaos reigns!" The titular creatures in this story don't actuually speak but chaos well and truly reigns by the story's conclusion. I really liked it.
Small Things do matter. Common courtesies and pleasantries make life better for all of us. This is another fable-esque (is that a word?) story telling of the dangers inherent in forgetting those niceties,opening up the first cracks in the ultimate breakdown of society. It's a dark fable of course, and extreme - but chillingly effective.
It Knows Where You Live rounds off the collection in fine style, reflecting a lot of the themes already explored in the earlier stories, wrapping them all up in a neat little tale about a DVD of the same name with malevolent properties.
This is an excellent collection of stories and maintains the exceptionally high standard Gary McMahon has already set with his previous work. Should you go and buy it? Yes, of course you should. Except you can't. But if you could...
Given that all 100 copies of the book have sold, it's a bit redundant of me to make any recommendations (even more so than usual...) about the book but irrespective of that I wll say that this is an excellent collection from the consistently brilliant Mr McMahon.
The collection opens with Just Another Horror Story which is anything but, in reality a cleverly structured story touching on themes of paranoia and which creates a strong sense of claustrophobia with the protagonist trapped in a (seemingly) constant cycle of horror.
Hope is a Small Thing Dying in a Bin Behind an Abandoned Kebab Shop is one of the longest titles I've seen for a short story but also one of the best. (It may even be the quintessential Gary McMahon title?) It's another cleverly constructed tale told from the viewpoint of the most unreliable of narrators. In the first paragraph he tells us how it's the "normal things...[that] take on an unholy resonance" a sentiment reiterated with devastating effect at the end of the story.
Barcode is a topical story dealing as it does with the effects of the Global Recession (Part Two in a theatre near you soon!) and is disconcerting in the way that it actually ends on an optimistic note - not at all what I was expecting from the King of Bleak..!
Among the Leftovers is, I think, my favourite story in the collection. It's a strong concept for a story but one that works brilliantly. It's a short piece but still manages to be both scary and profound, having much to say about the human condition.
When One Door Closes is another story inspired (if that's the right word in this context) by the recession. It's almost a fable and underlines very effectively how it's the ordinary Joe - at the bottom of the financial food chain - who is the one to suffer the most from massive, world-wide failures. Unlike Barcode this has a much bleaker (and therefore, unfortunately probably more realistic) conclusion.
The Chair first appeared in Black Static and was, if memory serves, my first exposure to Gary McMahon. I remember it puzzled me at the time, I wasn't entirely sure what it was about but had my theories... Re-reading it now confirmed those theories but I have to say reading the next story The Table helped greatly in cementing them. You want ghostly furniture-based stories? Gary McMahon's your man. C.S. Lewis might already have grabbed the Wardrobe but the place Gary's furniture is a conduit to is no Narnia...
Nine Lives takes us back out of the supernatural realm with a harsh tale of infidelity and revenge. If you like cats, maybe give this one a miss...
Truth Hurts is a love story. Yup, that's right. It's a twisted love story of course with the title a real affliction for one of the protagonists. It's a metaphor made real (with horrific consequences) which, in a paradoxical way, somehow manges to reinforce its meaning.
Down is perhaps the most traditional scary story in the book. It's an effective little chiller that preys on our fears of being trapped in the dark. My love of the "Stumphole Cavern" monologue notwithstanding, I really liked this homage to RamseyCampbell.
Sounds Weird is possibly the bleakest story of the collection. We all have our "what if..?" moments, regrets over decisions made or not made that in hindsight we would have handled differently. The grass isn't always greener but sometimes not even having the opportunity to find out makes the reality we find ourselves in even harder to take. The reality the characters in this story find themselves in is about as bleak as it gets - and there's no-one better than Gary McMahon at describing that world.
The Row treads more traditional supernatural ground. Are places haunted - or is it the people who visit them? There's just the right amount of ambiguity in this tale of a row of houses with a dark history and their influence on the council surveyor visiting them prior to their planned demolition.
The Sheep is set on my home patch of Northumbria and begins with the all too accurate proclamation that "it always rains in Northumbria in the springtime". It surely does - when it's not snowing that is. There's a feel of Lars Von Trier's Antichrist about this one with a troubled couple seeking solace in nature and coming across... well, in the film a fox disembowels itself, turns to the camera and says "chaos reigns!" The titular creatures in this story don't actuually speak but chaos well and truly reigns by the story's conclusion. I really liked it.
Small Things do matter. Common courtesies and pleasantries make life better for all of us. This is another fable-esque (is that a word?) story telling of the dangers inherent in forgetting those niceties,opening up the first cracks in the ultimate breakdown of society. It's a dark fable of course, and extreme - but chillingly effective.
It Knows Where You Live rounds off the collection in fine style, reflecting a lot of the themes already explored in the earlier stories, wrapping them all up in a neat little tale about a DVD of the same name with malevolent properties.
This is an excellent collection of stories and maintains the exceptionally high standard Gary McMahon has already set with his previous work. Should you go and buy it? Yes, of course you should. Except you can't. But if you could...
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Terror Tales of the Lake District.
I love The Lake District, it's like a second home to me and I've holidayed there since I was very young. It's where I go to recharge my batteries and is a constant source of inspiration to me. I also love horror stories so the new anthology from Gray Friar Press Terror Tales of the Lake District was one book I was very much looking forward to reading. It's edited by Paul Finch and contains thirteen (naturally) stories set in that beautiful part of North-West England.
Even before you open the book you're going to be freaked out by the cover art by Steve Upham - a well creepy image of Tom Fool, the Mad Clown of Muncaster, whose story is recounted in one of the factual inserts between the stories which tell some of the myths and legends associated with The Lake District.
Little Mag's Barrow by Adam L.G. Nevill opens the collection in fine style. It's an extremely atmospheric tale and genuinely scary. In it, the thoroughly unlikeable Kitty takes possession of the isolated cottage that gives the story its name for a weekend break. It turns out Kitty isn't entirely on her own after all and the scene in which the cottage's other occupant reveals themselves is brilliantly written.
The Coniston Star Mystery is by Simon Clark and tells of a diving expedition to locate the wreck of a steamer which sank in the lake in 1910, taking with it the body of escapologist Iskander Carvesh. One of the diving team has motivations other than financial gain for making the dive and these provide a twist of sorts at the end of the story. (As an aside, the epilogue is dated "one year later" - I think it could have worked as well had it been "one month earlier".)
Devils of Lakeland is by Paul Finch and is an atmospheric ghost story of a childhood haunting that has terrible repercussions in adult life. The pedant in me got riled at Catbells being called The Catbells and the reference to (the non-existent) Borrowdale Village but these are minor quibbles about what is a very enjoyable story which retains an air of mystery throughout.
The Moraine by Simon Bestwick brilliantly captures the whole feeling of getting lost in the mist when out walking, something I've done many times, once on top of Scafell Pike where I managed to do a complete 180 degree turn and ended up heading in completely the opposite direction. Fortunately, my predicament wasn't made worse by having some deadly creature pursuing me as does befall the protagonists in Simon's story. It's tense, scary and exciting, another excellent story from one of my current favourite authors.
The Claife Crier by Carole Johnstone is similar thematically to the previous story in that a couple out walking are terrorised by a monster. I think this is an even scarier story than Simon's and manages, in its short length, to create well drawn characters and a completely believable father/daughter conflicted relationship which adds depth to the story. Oh, and there's the added bonus of Carole's trademark writing speech in dialect - a rare skill that's tricky to pull off but which she accomplishes with consumate ease.
Jewels In The Dust is by Peter Crowther. It begins with a quotation from the 17th Century metaphysical poet Henry Vaughan. That's always a bit intimidating, here's an author flexing their intellectual muscles, foreshadowing a weighty piece of writing, one that's going to require some concentration and deep thinking to appreciate. He then spoils the illusion somehwhat by mis-spelling Jackson Pollock's name but hey, it took some of the pressure off! I'm waffling on here to avoid having to talk about the story itself which I really didn't like. It's a tale about as far removed from terror as you can possibly get (though it is set in the Lake District), all about death - and a love which transcends death. I'm cringing as I write that last line, aware of how corny it sounds but then that's how this whole story felt to me. A family who I instantly disliked for being just too nice (including little Tommy who is so cute it's nauseating), go for a picnic at the behest of the grandmother who belives she's finally going to die. It's all meant to be uplifting stuff - there's even a visit from dearly-departed grand-dad - but for me it tipped over the edge of sentimentality to tumble down the slippery slope of mawkishness and I personally found the final line of the story to be jaw-droppingly patronising.
Above The World is by Ramsey Campbell and restores the balance admirably. This was a bit of a nostalgia trip for me as I'd read this story many years ago in an earlier anthology. It's a classy piece of writing - as one would expect - and is beautifully atmospheric, recreating the atmosphere of the Lakes wonderfully. It's a ghost story where the surroundings really do add to the fear and confusion that beset the protagonist. Lovely stuff.
The Jilted Bride Of Windermere is by Gary Fry and, like The Claife Crier, is an updating of a pre-existing legend. The title pretty much gives away what's going to happen so there are few surprises here but the strength of the story is in Gary's skills at creating believable - albeit thoroughly unlikeable - characters, including the first person narrator.
Walk The Last Mile is by Steven Savile and is by far the darkest piece in the book. (No mean feat considering there are stories here by Gary McMahon and Simon Bestwick). It's another first-person narration that extremely effectively changes tone as the story progresses. From what appear at first to be romantic recollections it changes into... well, something else entirely. Nothing nice though. It's cleverly written and constructed and of all the stories has lingered most in my memory after completing the book.
Framed is by Peter Bell and unfortunately opens up the big box of Horror Cliches and digs deeply into it. Here's the set-up: A couple of petty thieves drive out to a graveyard reputedly haunted by a malevolent spirit in order to stash their booty. Can you guess what happens next? Yup, you're right.
Night Of The Crone is by Anna Taborska and fails to close the lid of the box opened in the previous story. I smiled a bit at the thought of a farmer writing a sign in dialect like it was an actual language but the smiles soon faded. It's a bit of a stretch to think that a bunch of modern day yobbos would a). believe and b). act on a legend about buried treasure. They do though, desecrating a stone circle in the process. Can you guess what happens next (the clue's in the title)? Yup. You're right.
Along Life's Trail is by Gary McMahon. It's not the typical dark, gritty fare that usually characterises Gary's work (there's a hint of marital discord but little more) but it's an entertaining - and scary - story in which the act of stumbling across an old deserted building results in a supernatural connection being made that has disastrous, (and gory) repercussions.
Striding Edge is by Reggie Oliver and uses the eponymous ridge walk on Helvellyn as the setting for some bizarre encounters between a man and some of his old school friends. It's another classy piece of writing from Mr Oliver (and reinforces my own prejudices aginst organisations like the Boy Scouts) which makes an already scary place even scarier. A traditional spooky story from the current master of that particular sub-genre.
Terror Tales... is a really strong collection (despite my reservations about some of the stories). Of them all, I think the Bestwick, Johnstone and Campbell stories capture the unique atmosphere of the district the best. Highly recommended.
Even before you open the book you're going to be freaked out by the cover art by Steve Upham - a well creepy image of Tom Fool, the Mad Clown of Muncaster, whose story is recounted in one of the factual inserts between the stories which tell some of the myths and legends associated with The Lake District.
Little Mag's Barrow by Adam L.G. Nevill opens the collection in fine style. It's an extremely atmospheric tale and genuinely scary. In it, the thoroughly unlikeable Kitty takes possession of the isolated cottage that gives the story its name for a weekend break. It turns out Kitty isn't entirely on her own after all and the scene in which the cottage's other occupant reveals themselves is brilliantly written.
The Coniston Star Mystery is by Simon Clark and tells of a diving expedition to locate the wreck of a steamer which sank in the lake in 1910, taking with it the body of escapologist Iskander Carvesh. One of the diving team has motivations other than financial gain for making the dive and these provide a twist of sorts at the end of the story. (As an aside, the epilogue is dated "one year later" - I think it could have worked as well had it been "one month earlier".)
Devils of Lakeland is by Paul Finch and is an atmospheric ghost story of a childhood haunting that has terrible repercussions in adult life. The pedant in me got riled at Catbells being called The Catbells and the reference to (the non-existent) Borrowdale Village but these are minor quibbles about what is a very enjoyable story which retains an air of mystery throughout.
The Moraine by Simon Bestwick brilliantly captures the whole feeling of getting lost in the mist when out walking, something I've done many times, once on top of Scafell Pike where I managed to do a complete 180 degree turn and ended up heading in completely the opposite direction. Fortunately, my predicament wasn't made worse by having some deadly creature pursuing me as does befall the protagonists in Simon's story. It's tense, scary and exciting, another excellent story from one of my current favourite authors.
The Claife Crier by Carole Johnstone is similar thematically to the previous story in that a couple out walking are terrorised by a monster. I think this is an even scarier story than Simon's and manages, in its short length, to create well drawn characters and a completely believable father/daughter conflicted relationship which adds depth to the story. Oh, and there's the added bonus of Carole's trademark writing speech in dialect - a rare skill that's tricky to pull off but which she accomplishes with consumate ease.
Jewels In The Dust is by Peter Crowther. It begins with a quotation from the 17th Century metaphysical poet Henry Vaughan. That's always a bit intimidating, here's an author flexing their intellectual muscles, foreshadowing a weighty piece of writing, one that's going to require some concentration and deep thinking to appreciate. He then spoils the illusion somehwhat by mis-spelling Jackson Pollock's name but hey, it took some of the pressure off! I'm waffling on here to avoid having to talk about the story itself which I really didn't like. It's a tale about as far removed from terror as you can possibly get (though it is set in the Lake District), all about death - and a love which transcends death. I'm cringing as I write that last line, aware of how corny it sounds but then that's how this whole story felt to me. A family who I instantly disliked for being just too nice (including little Tommy who is so cute it's nauseating), go for a picnic at the behest of the grandmother who belives she's finally going to die. It's all meant to be uplifting stuff - there's even a visit from dearly-departed grand-dad - but for me it tipped over the edge of sentimentality to tumble down the slippery slope of mawkishness and I personally found the final line of the story to be jaw-droppingly patronising.
Above The World is by Ramsey Campbell and restores the balance admirably. This was a bit of a nostalgia trip for me as I'd read this story many years ago in an earlier anthology. It's a classy piece of writing - as one would expect - and is beautifully atmospheric, recreating the atmosphere of the Lakes wonderfully. It's a ghost story where the surroundings really do add to the fear and confusion that beset the protagonist. Lovely stuff.
The Jilted Bride Of Windermere is by Gary Fry and, like The Claife Crier, is an updating of a pre-existing legend. The title pretty much gives away what's going to happen so there are few surprises here but the strength of the story is in Gary's skills at creating believable - albeit thoroughly unlikeable - characters, including the first person narrator.
Walk The Last Mile is by Steven Savile and is by far the darkest piece in the book. (No mean feat considering there are stories here by Gary McMahon and Simon Bestwick). It's another first-person narration that extremely effectively changes tone as the story progresses. From what appear at first to be romantic recollections it changes into... well, something else entirely. Nothing nice though. It's cleverly written and constructed and of all the stories has lingered most in my memory after completing the book.
Framed is by Peter Bell and unfortunately opens up the big box of Horror Cliches and digs deeply into it. Here's the set-up: A couple of petty thieves drive out to a graveyard reputedly haunted by a malevolent spirit in order to stash their booty. Can you guess what happens next? Yup, you're right.
Night Of The Crone is by Anna Taborska and fails to close the lid of the box opened in the previous story. I smiled a bit at the thought of a farmer writing a sign in dialect like it was an actual language but the smiles soon faded. It's a bit of a stretch to think that a bunch of modern day yobbos would a). believe and b). act on a legend about buried treasure. They do though, desecrating a stone circle in the process. Can you guess what happens next (the clue's in the title)? Yup. You're right.
Along Life's Trail is by Gary McMahon. It's not the typical dark, gritty fare that usually characterises Gary's work (there's a hint of marital discord but little more) but it's an entertaining - and scary - story in which the act of stumbling across an old deserted building results in a supernatural connection being made that has disastrous, (and gory) repercussions.
Striding Edge is by Reggie Oliver and uses the eponymous ridge walk on Helvellyn as the setting for some bizarre encounters between a man and some of his old school friends. It's another classy piece of writing from Mr Oliver (and reinforces my own prejudices aginst organisations like the Boy Scouts) which makes an already scary place even scarier. A traditional spooky story from the current master of that particular sub-genre.
Terror Tales... is a really strong collection (despite my reservations about some of the stories). Of them all, I think the Bestwick, Johnstone and Campbell stories capture the unique atmosphere of the district the best. Highly recommended.
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