Showing posts with label Tim Lebbon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tim Lebbon. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 June 2015

The Silence.

The world will end neither with a whimper or a bang but in total silence - at least according to Tim Lebbon's new novel The Silence. Well, not total silence as it happens but that's the concept at the heart of this new take on the end of the world.
The harbingers of the apocalypse in this instance are the vesps - prehistoric flying lizards that emerge from a cave in Moldova, unearthed by a scientific expedition. Life in the dark underground has rendered them blind meaning that they hunt their prey by sound alone - which is bad news for the human race whose noisy, modern existence provides food aplenty for the monsters.
In order to remain safe from the vesps, silence must be maintained and it's in this suppression of normal behaviour that comparisons can be drawn with Josh Malerman's brilliant Bird Box. In that novel, mankind had to blindfold itself, rendering itself blind - here the removal of noise to all intents and purposes results in a kind of deafness.
It's no surprise then that Ally, one of the main characters in the book, is actually deaf and it's her families 9enforced) ability to use signing that gives them an advantage over everyone else, living in a silent world is nothing new to them. The narrative focusses on the family's attempts to relocate to the wilds of Scotland, a place of (relative) quiet and hence safety and it's their journey - and their first hand encounters with the worst aspects of humanity - that takes up most of the book.
The opening chapters of the book were the most effective for me. The outbreak is at first reported on live TV but then picked up by social and other broadcast media, describing the inexorable spread of the killing hordes. The tension here is masterfully built with a palpable sense of dread created as the progress of the vesps towards the UK is monitored, and everyone realises that nothing will stop them. Each chapter begins with transcripts of TV and radio reports or blog/social media entries and it's a very effective device, building the tension to almost unbearable levels.
The vesps do reach mainland Britain of course and there the book makes a change in tone, becoming a survival thriller with some brilliantly executed set-pieces.
It's all high-concept stuff but it's a brilliant concept and what results is a tense, exciting and genuinely scary read. It cracks along at a blistering pace and really is a book you won't want to put down. (Though if you do, make sure you do it quietly).
I loved The Silence and heartily recommend it.

Sunday, 16 March 2014

In the Valley, Where Belladonna Grows.

I have to confess that when I read the novella Still Life from Spectral Press, it was my first encounter with the work of Tim Lebbon. On the strength of that book, and given my enjoyment of it, I sought out more of Tim’s writing and as a result find myself currently nearing the conclusion of Coldbrook – a hefty tome but one which I’m flying through, faster than the spread of a zombie plague. Listed within the book are all of Tim’s other publications – an extensive back catalogue that, whilst whetting my appetite greatly with the prospect of some wonderful reading ahead also made me wonder how I’d managed to miss so many books for so long.
Working through that back catalogue is something I’m very much looking forward to and so it was with great pleasure that I discovered that Tim has set up his own enterprise in the form of Dreaming in Fire through which he will be publishing electronic versions of some of his short stories and novellas.
Figuring that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I did, I took a break from the breakneck pace of Coldbrook to sample one of these newly resurrected stories, In the Valley Where Belladonna Grows.
The story focuses on Mary, living a life of isolation in a remote valley. What at first seems an almost idyllic existence turns into something more sinister as information is slowly drip-fed to the reader – it seems Mary’s isolation has been enforced, she has been exiled from “the city” by none other than her husband, Sherlock, a man who has achieved status and power through less than reputable means.
It seems that the years of exile are over however, as a series of emissaries from the city are sent to persuade Mary to return…
In the Valley… is a story of changing perceptions, playing with expectations, presenting a scenario which raises questions in the reader’s mind and then slowly reveals information that offer clues and suggestions as to why Mary is where she is.
Or does it?
Certain aspects of Mary’s situation don’t seem to ring true – in particular, it’s stated that she hasn’t seen another human being for sixteen years which begs the question of how far removed from society can she actually be? It’s a clever device, planting the seeds of suspicion in the reader’s mind that all is not what it may seem. Much is made of the presence of Belladonna growing in profusion around Mary’s homestead, a plant well known for its hallucinogenic, as well as poisonous properties. Dreams and visions (of a generally post-apocalyptic nature) are woven into the narrative and add to the feeling of uncertainty - are her visitors real or imagined, and what of the wild dogs that terrorise the surrounding countryside? Are all of her experiences actually happening or simply the products of her own imagination – brought on by loneliness and isolation or the insidious influence of the Belladonna?
To say more would be to potentially spoil what is an extremely cleverly written story. Its conclusion is eminently satisfying and will cast a whole new light on all that has gone before. It will probably make you want to read it again so you can see just how clever it actually is. I did. (And it is very clever).

The idea to re-release a back catalogue in this way is one I heartily applaud and I look forward to more from Dreaming in Fire, especially if they are of the same high standard as In the Valley…

Monday, 13 January 2014

A Spectral double bill.

Still Life is the latest novella in the Spectral Visions series published by Spectral Press and is written by Tim Lebbon, who joins ranks with Gary Fry, John Llewellyn Probert and Stephen Volk who have all produced books of the highest quality. It's another beautifully produced book with an amazing cover image by Jim Burns which illustrates key elements form the plot.
And quite a plot it is too. Epic in fact, and it's to Tim Lebbon's credit that he can create the world in which the story takes place, and convey all the detail the reader requires in a format as short as a novella. It's a vignette really, a glimpse into a much bigger story, but it works very effectively indeed.
An invasion by "The Enemy" (and I love the fact that no other detail is given in the book about them) has left a subjugated population, corralled into settlements and living under martial law. One result of the war - and an idea I absolutely loved - is the "Road of Souls", a road made up of the remains of those killed in battle (and illustrated on the cover). It's a great concept and reminiscent of the roads constructed by the Nazis from Jewish headstones in the concentration camps during the second world war. That echoing of concentration camps is also apparent in the description of life in the settlements, most notably in the characters of the "Finks", collaborators very similar to the kapos of the camps.
Where there's subjugation, so there is resistance and it's this that provides the main narrative thrust, centering in on Jenni, whose reluctance to become involved is overcome by - well, that would possibly give too much away, suffice to say that it provides one interpretation of the book's title.
Still Life is an immensely satisfying read and a fine addition to the Spectral Visions stable.
Ghosts is a collection of sixteen stories and one poem from Paul Kane, drawn from his back catalogue and based on the theme of, well, ghosts. The suitably atmospheric cover is by Les Edwards and it is, of course, another beautifully produced book.
It's a strong collection of stories, written in clear, precise prose - there aren't too many stylish flourishes here, this is straightforward story-telling. With so many stories, there's always the risk of it being a hit and miss affair and I did feel that was the case here, with one or two of the stories veering too far into sentimentality. It's difficult in these post-modern times to make a ghost story scary and the tale that probably best achieves this is Homeland which uses the haunted house trope to good effect.
The stand out stories for me were Kindred Spirits and The Suicide Room for the concepts behind them and Wind Chimes which is a nicely atmospheric tale with a twist. A DVD of the short film made form this story is also included.
Dickens provides the starting point for two of the stories in the collection. Humbuggered is an updated version of A Christmas Carol which didn't quite work for me, whereas Signals was my favourite story in the book. The story it references is The Signalman - which just happens to be my favourite Dickens ghost story. (And which is definitely the best of the BBC's adaptations). I was a little apprehensive starting Signals - a high risk of sacrilege and all that - but actually really enjoyed this clever sequel to the original.
Ghosts is the first in Spectral's Collections series and provides a strong start to what will hopefully be a long line to come.